by Gaie Sebold
“Not at all. I’ll confess to having ‘operatives’ – good word, innit, ‘operatives’ – that can get in his offices. And it in’t stealing if you give it back, is it? And then he’ll know it’s easy for someone to get in, and that if my ‘operatives’ know how to get in we’ll know how to stop anyone else getting in.”
“Are you feeling quite well? What is to stop him from summoning a policeman?”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that, I can talk me way out of that.”
“I should be intrigued to hear how.”
“A girl gotta have some secrets,” Evvie said, grinning, though it was more than a little bravado. Usually she was a good planner, but now, sitting here with Liu, she realised that maybe she should have thought a bit harder about what exactly she planned to say to Mr Stug when she presented him with evidence of her own breaking, entering, and theft. Would he believe in her ‘operatives,’ who were, as it stood, a bunch of eager, half-wild girls?
But no. Improvisation was her other strong point. One of them. And she was good. She hadn’t lost her touch, she hadn’t been caught, and she’d be right as rain.
“I hope this object you absconded with was worth the trouble,” Liu said. “If you are to be arrested it should at least be for something of value.”
“Don’t be daft – I wasn’t going to nick something valuable, was I? What if I’d been caught?”
“I see that you have indeed been most careful,” Liu said.
“Are you being ironical?”
“Actually, I believe I was being sarcastical.” She made to hit him, and he ducked away, grinning. “Show me?”
Evvie took the case out of her bag and opened it. “S’a whistle,” she said, helpfully, when Liu only stared in silence.
“May I see it more closely?” Liu’s voice was odd, distant, as though he were thinking of something else, but his eyes fixed on the whistle. “It is, in fact, a flute – or a whistle, if you wish.”
“Yes, I said.”
“It is made of elder wood.”
“Is it? I wouldn’t know.”
“No, I do not suppose that you would. Eveline...”
“What? It’s just a whistle, Liu. Why’re you looking so green?”
He put the whistle back in its case and snapped the lid shut, not looking at her. “Eveline – my Lady Sparrow, I don’t think you should do this.”
“Do what?”
“Become involved with this man, this Stug. What an unpleasant name. Definitely a name of ill-fortune. I am convinced he will bring you bad luck, you know. I know about these things.” He gave her his charming, foxy grin, but she sensed an effort in it; it did not quite reach his eyes.
“What are you on about? After all the trouble I went to, I’m not giving up because he’s got a funny name.”
“Please, will you take my advice on this?”
“No! Liu, what’s got into you? Is it because I’m going to turn respectable? It is, isn’t it.” Evvie felt a weight all over her, like a heavy gown. “Liu, you think I like it? I like being me, Evvie Sparrow, I was good. I was one of the best, and I was learning, and getting better. But I can’t risk it any more.”
“It isn’t that.”
“What is it then?”
“Tell me, when you found this flute, was it dusty? Tucked away in some hidden corner?”
“No, what would be the point of that? I wanted something he’d use – and miss. It was on a shelf.”
“Eveline, a flute of elder wood is used to summon the Folk.”
“What?”
“Yes. It is one thing they must obey, at least, the lesser Folk. They do not like it – in fact, it makes them angry. No-one wants to be summoned, and least of all the Folk. He is summoning them, he is using a discourteous method and he is getting on their bad side, and that is not a good idea.”
“Oh.” Eveline tucked her feet up under her skirts and wrapped her arms around her knees, and rested her chin on them. “Now why would someone like Mr Stug be summoning the Folk?”
“Do you understand me, Lady Sparrow?”
“Yes, yes, he’s calling ’em up and he’s hacking ’em off, that, I get. What’s it to do with me?”
“What it is to do with you is that the anger of the Folk is something that may spread beyond its immediate object. People may become caught up. Even possessing the flute...”
“I’m not keeping it.”
“Eveline, please allow me to guide you in this. You could give me that thing – I will dispose of it – no-one saw you, did they? No-one knows you were there. Stug did not wish to employ you – you can forget about him, and deal with something less troublesome. There is so much you don’t know,” he said, turning to look at her. “I tell you and tell you how dangerous they are – and who should know better than I? But you do not listen.”
“You’re still alive, and you’ve tricked ’em more’n once. So’s Charlotte – leastways she was...” Evvie’s voice tailed off.
“I am alive because I know how to play their games. And I keep track. Do you know the dances of the court, Eveline? Do you know who is up and down? Even being polite to the wrong person can change one’s status, dangerously. When the Queen is in one of her more fractious moods, all one needs to do is wear the wrong colour and the punishments could be more horrible than you can imagine.”
“Liu, I spent years scrabbling a pauper’s living since I was no more’n a kinchin mort. I had to eat things and do things and live through things that you never had to. So don’t tell me I can’t imagine horrible. I bin through horrible. ’Sides, I got no plans to cross the stream of blood, thanks very much.”
“But you might not have a choice. If you only stay out of their way and out of their notice, you may be safe.”
“May I indeed. How’d you know this Stug is doing anything at all to do with the Folk?”
“The flute.”
“Who’s to say he’s using it? P’raps he just likes having it about. Maybe it belonged to his family. Anyway, s’nothing to do with me. I need this work, Liu.”
“And is there no-one else who wants this kind of thing done?”
“Not so far. And how many more’ll there be who won’t even talk to me ’cos I’m female?”
“Then let me go. Let me negotiate with him. Then, if he is involved with the Folk, I can...”
“No.” Eveline stopped, and jammed her hands onto her hips. Her mouth was tight. “Liu, I’m not having you run this business for me. I can do this, and I will.”
“I didn’t mean...”
“Never mind what you meant. I’m not having it.”
“Do you think I meant to take over from you, your respectable business? I am sorry you think so poorly of me.”
Eveline heaved an exasperated sigh. “Don’t take me up so sharp!”
“What else am I to think? Is that not what you meant?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Neither do you. I am attempting to protect you from your own foolishness, Eveline.”
“Oh, so I’m foolish am I?”
“On this matter, yes. And stubborn. And innocent as a fox-kit on its first day out of the den. Your mother knows how dangerous my people are – she is wiser on this than you.”
“Oh, she is, is she? Well, I’m not having nothing to do with any Folk.”
“You already are,” Liu said, gesturing to himself. “And that alone...”
“That alone what?”
“I am only trying to keep you safe.”
“I can look after myself.”
“Indeed? Do you know that you must never carry St John’s Wort to a meeting with the Folk?”
“’Course I do. Ai... someone told me that.”
“And do you know who is currently in her favour at Court, and who is not?”
“Why would I be going anywhere near her Court?”
“You would not need to, to be at risk. Only to have words with one of her people. Do you know who Baba Yaga is?”
“Baby who?”
“Baba Yaga is the Russian version of the Queen, in her way. And at the moment your Queen –”
“She en’t mine.”
“The Queen of the English Folk, then – she has some quarrel with Baba Yaga, over who knows what. But speaking to one of her people you might easily do something that could be seen as showing favour to Baba Yaga. All you would need to do is, perhaps, to mention that you had a Russian doll of which you were fond, or that you had enjoyed a performance by Cossack riders at the circus.”
“What sort of riders?”
“Cossacks. Or people dressed as such, at least.”
“I wouldn’t know a Cossack if one should dance up and call me Nancy. Liu, you’re not making any sense.”
“I am trying to explain that should you have any dealings with the Folk, you could endanger yourself without even knowing it.”
“I en’t going to, I keep telling you.”
“Then you will not stop this nor let me do this for you.”
“No, I won’t,” Evvie said. “You’re worse’n Ma Pether.”
“Ma Pether did her best to keep you safe.”
“Ma Pether sent me out on jobs and would have abandoned me in a blink if I’d been caught, Liu. People talk about honour among thieves but there ain’t a lot where I come from.”
“But you were very, very good...”
“Will you stop it!” She jumped to her feet and glared down at him. “You got a proper romantic idea of what being a thief is all about. Might be different for you, being as you can change what you look like and I don’t know what-all other magic you might have going for you, but I could end up hanged. Or in prison. Or on me way who-knows-where in a sinking ship. And can I trust you to look after this lot? After Mama? You like Evvie the trickster, who didn’t have anyone. Well I got people now and I got to look after them and I can’t do that in prison. Or dead.”
“The Folk can do worse to you, Eveline. They are dangerous, and tricksy, and...”
“Well you should know,” Eveline said, “being as you are one. Leave me be. If you don’t like what I’m doing, you can... you can look the other way, or you can just go.” She glared at him.
Liu rose to his feet, shut his eyes and clenched his hands. His fox-tail puffed out straight behind him, his teeth grew sharp, and long claws pressed into the pads of his palms.
“Lady Sparrow, sometimes...” He took a deep breath, then he walked away, across the lawn among the shadows and sun, into the woods, where all the birds were singing as though their lives depended on it.
Evvie’s chest was tight and her eyes brimming. She’d never argued properly with Liu before, insults, yes, and well, there was when she’d found out what he was, but not since they’d been proper friends.
But she was furious, too. How dare he! She felt as though she were trapped in brambles, with thorns snagging and tugging at her every which way. Well, she was going back to Stug and she’d get this job and more, too – and they’d all see that she knew what she was about.
She needed some sleep, first. Sleep and breakfast and then she’d be able to think, and deal with Stug.
She saw Beth on her way to her workroom, with a pencil behind her ear. Beth was such an early riser, unable to wait to get to her beloved mechanisms. Even Mama didn’t get up so early, now she didn’t have small children to care for.
“Oh, hello, Evvie. You’re up early – or late,” she said, looking at the bag still clutched in Eveline’s hand.
“Things to do.” Beth was about the only person she could stand to see right now. At least she wasn’t forever going on about what she thought Evvie should do with her life.
“Are you all right, Evvie?” Beth peered anxiously at her face. “Would you like some tea?”
The kindness brought tears brimming. Eveline swiped at her eyes. “Go on, then.”
Beth waited until they had tea in front of them, before she said, “What is it?”
“Oh, Liu was being stupid.”
“Oh, dear. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”
“He just thinks he knows better’n me, and it made me cross.”
“That’s men for you,” Beth said.
Hearing one of Ma Pether’s phrases come out of the mouth of Beth, who’d had almost nothing to do with men until Eveline had come into her life, bringing Liu with her, made Evvie smile, and feel a little better. “How would you know, you juggins?”
“I watch,” Beth said. “I listen. I know you think I’m silly, Evvie, and never think about much that isn’t made of metal, but I’m not completely foolish. I do know things. And I know that Liu is a good sort, only he’s got a lot of pride. Like you.”
“I ain’t proud!”
“I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re proud of what you’re good at, and why shouldn’t you be?”
“Right now my life’d be a lot easier if I had something else to be proud of, Beth. You can make machines, you can invent, and no-one thinks the worse of you for it – what you do, that’s useful to anyone, and don’t make trouble nor get you the wrong side of the law.”
“Just being interested in machines got me into enough trouble, remember?” Beth said. “My mother threatened me with an asylum if I hadn’t agreed to go to the Britannia School. And whether machines are legal rather depends on what they get used for. I just wish...”
“What?” Evvie said, a little snappishly, hoping Beth wasn’t about to start on her.
“Oh, nothing.” She looked forlorn.
“Go on, Beth, what is it?”
“I just wish there was someone I could talk to about it. I mean, your Mama’s wonderful but Etherics is different from what I do, and there isn’t really anyone else here. The girls try, but there’s none of them... anyway. It’s nothing you should worry about.”
Eveline gave her a quick hug. “Poor Beth. I’ll keep my eye out, see if I can find some lass with a mechanical eye, eh?” She snickered. “That sounded strange.”
“Urgh, don’t,” Beth said. “Although...”
“You’re wondering how to make one, now, aren’t you?”
Beth grinned. “Maybe. You’d need lenses. And...” Her grin dropped away. “There’s soldiers,” she said quietly. “A lot of them lose eyes, and hands. Most of what’s made for them isn’t much good. And if there is a war... it would be good to have some designs ready.”
“You still on about the war? What’s it to do with us?”
Beth hunched her shoulders and drew a finger around the rim of her mug.
“Beth? You don’t think they’re going to come here, do you, just ’cos we’ve been teaching our girls stuff? They’re hardly going to come swanning up going, ‘Right, we hear you got females what can handle a machine, off to the front with you,’ are they?”
“Women have been soldiers, you know. Artemisia of Caria was a famous one.”
“Who?”
“She was a naval commander under Xerxes.”
“What are they?”
“He was a very famous Greek person who won a lot of wars. And he said Artemisia was the finest officer in his fleet. And there was Boudicca.”
“I thought Boudicca was made up, like Robin Hood and that.”
“No, she’s real. She was.”
“Where d’you find all this stuff?”
“One thing we had at home was books. Not much else, but a lot of books. Explorations and politics and military history. They were left to Mama by one of her uncles, she used to say he must have thought she’d have a son one day. Then she’d cry, or break something.” Beth looked down at the table, rubbing at a stain with her finger. “Anyway I read quite a lot of the military history. See, I had an uncle, too. My Uncle Bertie. He was a soldier. My Mama’s brother. The only one of her family who still came to see her, once... once she had me, and was in disgrace.”
Beth pulled out a rag from her pocket to blow her nose. The rag had probably been a perfectly good handkerchief before it got used to wipe down oily ma
chinery and sop up various colourful fluids. It left a dark streak down one side of her nose.
When it seemed she wasn’t going to go on by herself, Eveline said, “He came to see you.”
Beth nodded. “That house was so quiet. Mama hated noise. The first thing I remember her saying to me is, ‘Ladies do not shout.’ She’d get headaches, and lie on the settee, and if one of the neighbours banged a door loudly or a carriage went past she’d moan. If I made too much noise she’d shut me away until she thought I would be quiet.”
No wonder Beth hardly ever raised her voice much above a murmur. Now it was so low Eveline had to lean forward to hear her.
“Uncle Berry – it was Bertie, really, but when I was little I couldn’t say it, so I called him Berry. I kept doing it, because it made him laugh. He used to come to visit and he had such a loud laugh, and sometimes he came in his uniform, all bright and brass buttons, he had a great big blonde moustache and when he smiled it bushed out, and it was like... he was like this big happy wind blowing through the house, waking things up. He’d bring me things, toys. Dolls, mostly. I’d rather have had a train set, but the only time I asked him for anything like that Mama...” Beth’s hand wandered to her cheek. “She was so furious. I don’t know if she was more angry that I’d asked for something that wasn’t suitable, or that I’d asked at all. So I played with the dolls when he was there because it made him happy. I felt guilty that I didn’t like them much. But I found the books, then when he came I’d tell him I’d been reading Vegetius or Polyaenus’ Stratagems. He’d laugh and swing me up and call me his Little General. Mama hated it but she couldn’t say anything, in case he stopped coming to see us. I think he gave her some money, sometimes. He’d take us out to the seaside. I remember him lifting me onto a donkey, and the sound of the gulls and the children shouting, and the beach, and the sea so long and wide and blue. There was a boat and I thought, I want to be on one of those.” She sighed. “One day he told us he was going on campaign. He was very excited.
“Then we didn’t see him for months. When he came back for a visit, I was so looking forward to seeing him. Mama had already threatened me with being sent to Bedlam, you see. I thought perhaps he would help me. But... oh, Evvie.