“What did it say?” Sev asked.
“Hm? What?”
“The letter,” Sev clarified. “What did it say?”
“Oh.” Heph smirked. “Nothing. It was just a blank piece of parchment.” Sev laughed. He was really starting to like Hephaestus. “So there you have it, Mr. Seven. The truth. The whole story. Silas hasn’t even heard that little tragedy before.”
“You haven’t?” Sev turned to the other young man.
“No,” Kettlebent confirmed.
“So ye have an army o’children down here, workin’ fer yer revolution. How is that any different than what goes on in the factories up there?” Sev pointed to the ceiling.
“That’s easy, Mr. Seven. Down here, the children have a choice.” Heph turned and pinned Sev with an intense gaze. “Your turn, Mr. Seven. What do you know about Fairgate’s plan for the queen?”
“I don’t know anythin’,” Sev answered. “I stole the journal, but I turned it over t’Jack Midnight. I never looked at it.”
“You can’t be serious,” Kettlebent interjected. “You had a sorcerer’s personal grimoire, and you never even looked at it?”
Sev shook his head. “That wasn’t the deal. I was just supposed t’get the book. Besides, what do I know about magic? I wouldn’t have known what I was lookin’ at.” Kettlebent and Sev were both startled when Heph bellowed laughter.
“Well, that’s that. We still don’t know what that bastard’s up to,” Heph stated. “What about your aristocrat? Will he be able to get the journal from Midnight?”
“I don’t know,” Kettlebent answered. “Those two have a complex relationship. And Midnight is a wild card.”
“That’s true,” Sev added. “He’d keep that journal just t’make sure he had an excuse t’see Sutherland.”
“You stole it once,” Heph stated. “Would you be willing to do so again?”
“No.” Sev shook his head. “I realize Midnight’s a criminal and all that, but I won’t double-cross him.”
“Understandable. Respectable,” Heph muttered.
“Would you at least be willing to look at it?” Kettlebent wondered. “Tell us what it says?”
“Possibly. I can ask Midnight.”
“What? Just walk up and say, ‘Hey, Jack, can I get a look at that journal?’,” Kettlebent mocked.
“Why not?” Sev asked. “He likes me. Honesty and all that.”
“It could work,” Heph agreed. “Good. For now, why don’t you show Seven around the city? Introduce him to some of the children and Muriel.”
“She’s still with ye?”
“Of course,” Heph answered. “You know you’re the reason most of the recent recruits joined us.”
“Me?” Sev asked.
“You’re something of a legend to them. You’d be a great asset to us.” Heph laid a hand on Sev’s shoulder. “Go on.” He shooed the young men. “I have work to do.”
KETTLEBENT led Sev out into the underground city. “What’s all this strange writin’?” Sev asked.
“No one knows,” Kettlebent answered. “Heph’s mentor had some notes on it, but he never had time to figure it out. Don’t look at it for too long. It does things, makes one’s head hurt.” Sev believed it. “That’s why we try to cover up as much as we can. Hungry?”
“I s’pose.”
“We’ll go see Muriel.”
Sev smelled Muriel’s dwelling before he saw it, and his mouth watered. Kettlebent turned a corner, and Sev saw the home they were headed to. The entrance was decorated with paper lanterns and dried herbs. It was the most inviting sight he’d seen in this city of lost children. Kettlebent sniffed deeply. “Mmm. Muriel’s made her stew.” Kettlebent dashed up the steps, and Sev ran to keep up.
The interior was even more warm and delightful. Sev gazed around at the walls draped in variously patterned fabrics, not an inch of stone visible. It gave the dwelling the feel of a tent. More lanterns dotted the ceiling. Even Muriel’s furniture was inviting—warm, polished wood with comfy looking pillows and cushions. Rugs of all styles covered the floor. The cold and damp of the underground couldn’t seem to penetrate Muriel’s space. Sev could hear someone humming happily in the back of the compartment.
The woman who emerged into the chamber was the opposite of Sev’s mental picture of Muriel. He had imagined the nurse as an older woman, stout and strong with severe features and steel-gray hair. This must be Muriel’s daughter or younger sister. She was beautiful, tall, and lean with porcelain skin. Her hair was long. It fell in auburn waves over her broad shoulders. There was strength in her arms but a grace as well. Her eyes were dark brown, almost black, with thick lashes. Her cheeks and slightly upturned nose were sprinkled with freckles. When she saw Kettlebent, her full lips broke into a grin. “Silas, you’re just in time for dinner.” She opened her arms, and Kettlebent embraced her easily.
“Hello, Murry.” Kettlebent released her, stepping back.
“And who do we have here?” she asked, eyeing Sev.
“This,” Kettlebent said and stepped back, “is the young man they call the Seventh of London.”
“Good lord. Is it really?” Muriel asked in a cockney accent.
“Seven, ma’am,” Sev said, offering his hand. Muriel wiped her hands on her apron before she enveloped Sev in a firm hug.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Seven. We’ve been hearin’ so much about you.” She released him, and he heard laughter from outside. A few children entered Muriel’s home, four boys and a girl. A girl Sev recognized.
“Annie!” Sev blurted.
“Sev!” Annie ran over and embraced her old friend. “Ye made it! I knew ye would.”
“Well, it is a small world,” Muriel stated. “Sit down, everyone. It’s time to eat. I’ll fetch some more plates.” Muriel disappeared as the children gathered around the table. Sev could feel Kettlebent’s eyes on him as he spoke with Anne-Marie. She introduced her friends and asked about Sev’s snappy new clothes. Muriel reappeared with an iron kettle and two plates. She spooned stew onto all of their plates, then said a brief prayer and sat down to eat. Everyone at the table spoke easily, discussing the work they were engaged in or who might be next to join them. Many of them had questions for Sev and Kettlebent about the outer city.
After the meal, most of the children departed. Kettlebent helped Muriel clean up while Sev and Annie caught up. He told her about his time in the palace and Midnight’s job offer. She told him of the events that led up to her fleeing Beauchamps. “I have a long day ahead o’me, Sev,” Annie concluded. “I should get home. Sleep.”
“Sure, Dove. I’m glad ye’re safe.”
“Likewise.”
“Do ye have a place t’stay?” she asked.
“He does,” Kettlebent answered.
“It seems I do,” Sev agreed. “I’ll talk t’ye before I go above.” Annie squeezed her friend’s hand and kissed him on the cheek. Sev stood as Anne-Marie left. He wondered at Kettlebent’s scowl as the young man watched her leave. “Where am I stayin’, then?” Sev asked.
“At my place,” Kettlebent answered. “I want to keep my eye on you, and I have the space.”
“Fair enough.” Sev shrugged.
“Here,” Muriel said, bustling out of the kitchen with bundles. She handed one to each of the young men. “Take these. It’s just a little something.” She kissed Kettlebent on the forehead. She turned to do the same to Sev but paused. Sev chuckled and tipped his head, giving her permission to kiss him as well, which she did. “Good night, boys. It was nice to meet you, Seven.”
“You as well, Muriel. Thank ye fer the meal,” Sev added. She waved away the compliment and escorted her guests to the door.
KETTLEBENT and Sev picked their way through the city. They were full and content, walking in relative silence. Sev asked a few questions, and Kettlebent answered them before they returned to the latter’s quarters. Kettlebent set up a military-style cot and retrieved spare blankets and pillows for Sev. “Thanks,”
Sev said, placing the pillows on the cot.
“Don’t mention it.” Kettlebent shrugged and crossed to stoke the fire. Sev stretched and removed his coat and shoes. When he sat on the cot, he realized he was suddenly very tired. He yawned. Kettlebent slipped out of his overcoat. “It’s been a long day,” he said.
“It seems like every day is a long day,” Sev observed.
“Well said,” Kettlebent stated. “Seven?”
“Kettlebent.”
“That girl, Annie?”
“What about her?”
“You’re friends?”
“We are.”
“Just friends?” Kettlebent turned away from Sev.
“We’re very good friends, but that’s all.” Sev wondered where this was going. “Why?”
“Just curious,” Kettlebent answered, turning back. “I’m exhausted. I’ll be through there if you need anything.” Sev nodded but remained silent. “Good night, then.”
“G’night,” Sev replied. Kettlebent went into his bedroom, and Sev stripped off everything but his pants and undershirt. It wasn’t more than a moment after Sev’s head hit the pillow that he was sleeping soundly.
11
FOR once, Sev’s dreams were free of flames and screaming. Kettlebent woke him and they breakfasted on the bundles Muriel had sent. Bread, dried fruit, and small canisters of jam. They talked about Undertown, Kettlebent explaining the general layout.
After breakfast they dressed and walked into the city. Sev witnessed workshops and training facilities. He saw a storage space where a few weapons were kept. They ventured past a spot where some children were excavating another portion of the city. Curious, Sev stripped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to help. Within an hour they’d uncovered the head of a statue. Its face looked like a monster, with tendrils where a mouth should be. This entire space fascinated Sev.
Kettlebent and Sev were filthy and sweating from their work. They lunched with the young people at the dig site. The boys joked comfortably. They finished out the day helping with the dig. By the end of the day, they were gritty and exhausted. “Do you want to get cleaned up?” Kettlebent asked Sev.
“Sure,” Sev answered.
“Follow me.” Kettlebent once again dashed through the streets. Sev tried to keep up. They ran through the narrow paths until they arrived at something that looked like a giant stone tub. There were a few people soaking in the water. Kettlebent stripped to his shorts and slipped into the pool. Sev hesitated for a moment before doing the same. The water was warm, soothing. He rested on the edge of the pool, his eyes closed, relaxing. Kettlebent drifted over and handed Sev a bar of soap. The two young men washed, leaving the water soapy. “We can rinse off in the showers.” Kettlebent pointed to nozzles sprouting from a tank-like reservoir. He slipped out of the pool and Sev followed.
Sev pulled the chain to start his rinse. It was slightly cooler than the pool. Kettlebent pulled his own chain, rinsing off as well. “Seven,” Kettlebent gasped. Sev turned to see wide eyes. “My God,” Kettlebent said.
“What?” Sev asked. His hands were stretched above his head. He looked down at the shining pink skin of the scar on the right side of his torso. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry.” Kettlebent averted his eyes, blushing from embarrassment. He finished rinsing off and dressed quickly. Sev wasn’t sure what to say, so he remained silent, finishing his shower and dressing.
The two young men walked back to Kettlebent’s rooms in silence. A small girl approached them as they walked. “Mr. Silas,” she said. “Do you need any laundry done?”
“I do, Susie. How about you, Sev?”
“This is all I have,” Sev said.
“I can let you borrow something if you want those clothes cleaned.”
“All right,” Sev agreed. Susie followed them to Kettlebent’s home, collecting their dirty garments. Kettlebent gave Sev a dressing gown to wear temporarily. Kettlebent stoked the fire, and the two young men sat silently. Something in their relationship had been breached and neither was sure how to proceed.
“Tea? Coffee?” Kettlebent asked, breaking the silence.
“Tea,” Sev answered. Kettlebent jumped up, ran to the kitchen, and retrieved water and a kettle.
“That dig sure was something,” Kettlebent said as he put the kettle on the fire. Sev noticed a dent in the metal as his host grabbed mugs and tea.
“Is that where ye got yer name?” Sev asked. “Yer bent kettle?”
“What?”
“Yer tea kettle, it’s bent,” Sev clarified.
“Oh,” Kettlebent said, nodding. “I hadn’t noticed. That’s funny, isn’t it?” The two boys shared an awkward chuckle, but the conversation ended abruptly when the kettle whistled. Kettlebent prepared the tea and handed Sev one of the mismatched mugs. “Sugar? Cream?” Kettlebent offered. Sev took a deep sniff of the fragrant tea, inhaling the exotic scent. He shook his head, wondering at the blend. Kettlebent shrugged one shoulder and plopped two sugar cubes into his cup.
They sat across from each other, blowing on their tea, avoiding each other’s gaze and not speaking. Sev knew where the awkwardness originated—Kettlebent was wondering about his scar. It wasn’t surprising. Anyone who’d ever seen it wanted to know how it happened. Sev didn’t normally like to talk about that time in his life, but he felt like Kettlebent was someone he wouldn’t mind sharing with. The way Sev’s raven-haired host squirmed uncomfortably inspired a smirk on Sev’s lips.
“Go ahead and ask,” Sev stated, shattering the silence. Kettlebent had just taken a sip of his tea, and he aspirated the liquid in surprise. Sev chuckled softly.
“What… what do you mean?” Kettlebent stuttered.
“Ye’ve been a bit off since ye saw me scar,” Sev explained, his accent a little thicker than usual.
“No. That’s… um… what I mean to say is,” Kettlebent babbled. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. “Is that where you got your name?” he finally asked.
Sev nodded. “It’s not a time I like t’think about, normally.”
“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”
“No. It’s fine. I’d like t’tell ye.”
“Is it why you cry out in the night?” Kettlebent asked.
“Sorry,” Sev whispered, his cheeks coloring as he nodded.
“You really don’t have to talk about it,” Kettlebent reassured Sev.
“But ye’re curious,” Sev stated. Kettlebent hesitated, then nodded. “It’s understandable.” Sev didn’t continue right away, and Kettlebent refused to push. After a few moments, Sev sipped his tea and said, “My father was a shoemaker. Very successful. He and mum had come over during the famine with my two oldest sisters. Three more sisters, my brother, and I were born here. It wasn’t long after I was born that the spiral began.” Kettlebent nodded at Sev’s words. “That was the beginnin’ o’the end fer my family too.” Sev continued to relate the story of Fervis absorbing Sev’s father into his new automated shoe construction factory, the money loans that trapped Sev’s family under Fervis’s thumb.
AS EARLY as Sev could remember, his father made shoes, fantastic shoes that were all the rage with the elite of London’s high society. Sev’s father was making a very decent living for his little family. They’d escaped the famine in their homeland and managed to find prosperity in England. More children were born, and his parents built onto their home.
Then the queen started acting strangely. The separation of London, the great spiral, and suddenly Fervis’s mass-produced footwear became the height of fashion, and Sev’s father’s business dropped off, making him an easy target for Fervis. The factory tycoon agreed to help Sev’s father in return for his allegiance and design prowess. With Sev’s father’s help, Fervis’s Fine Footwear boomed. Fervis demanded more and more from Sev’s father, and with the new children born to his family, Sev’s dad couldn’t refuse. He worked himself to exhaustion. No one was surprised when Sev’s father took ill. Between the babies,
the improvements to the house, and her ill husband, Sev’s mother’s hands were too full. Sev’s father died.
Sev’s mother did the best she could without her husband’s income, but the bank was relentless. Seven children were too much for her, and when things looked most desperate and they were about to lose their home, Fervis swooped in and offered Sev’s mother not only a job, but a place to stay. Could anyone blame her for accepting, especially with the separation of London? She became Fervis’s maid, head of his household, and her children were put to work in his factory.
Sev’s siblings accepted their lot more readily than Sev. He constantly acted out, fighting against the man he viewed as their father’s murderer. His actions earned Sev extended visits to locked chambers beneath the factory.
In one of his more inspired moments, Sev sabotaged one of Fervis’s machines, delaying production for nearly a month. In retaliation, Fervis chose to beat Sev’s mother rather than punish the boy directly. Sev was furious and tried to tear Fervis apart with his bare hands. That stunt, along with the sabotage, earned him a six-week stint in confinement.
When he emerged, his mother had recovered from her physical injuries, but she’d been overcome with the fever. Her children did everything they could, but Fervis denied her a proper doctor and within a week Sev’s mother was gone. Fervis refused the children time to grieve, doubling their shifts in the factory. Sev’s oldest sister was almost of age, and Sev didn’t like the wolfish manner in which Fervis looked at her.
No one could have guessed how displeased Sev was until he attempted to escape the factory. Unfortunately, he was caught and brought before Fervis. The factory owner was furious. He felt betrayed after all he’d done for Sev’s family. “You’d all be dead if not for me!” he bellowed at them. “I’m sick of coddling you. You all need to be taught a lesson; that’s obvious.” Fervis called McGinty over, and the two men spoke in hushed tones. Sev didn’t like the crooked smile McGinty flashed at him and his siblings. Some of the Footmen herded the seven children into a room where they awaited their fate. Sev’s oldest sister tried to comfort her younger siblings. The remaining family took comfort in the heat radiating from the small stove in the room.
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