by Emma Newman
Erin glanced back at him. “Everyone is different from everyone else.”
“Yes, I didn’t mean that … I mean that I think we’re special in some way. Don’t you feel it?”
Both Zane and Erin shrugged. “Mum says I’m special all the time,” Zane commented.
Titus frowned and let it go.
“I wonder who made this room,” Erin said, twisting the figurine on the shelf to make the dancing woman twirl.
“I don’t know,” Titus answered. “I just woke up here the other night.”
Zane looked at the drawing on the wall. “Maybe the same people that drew that on Jay’s building.”
“But why do that?” Titus said, puzzled. “And why paint it so high?”
Zane gasped. “Perhaps the Giant did it!”
Titus shook his head. “The Boys would’ve heard him if he were that close.”
The three of them pondered a while until Zane said, “I’ve had an idea about something, but I’m not sure if I should make it happen. Can I talk about it with you two?”
The next morning, as soon as they woke, Zane sat up quickly. “I wish I could make Titus better!” he said in a loud, eager tone. Titus watched him carefully, remaining silent, waiting for something dramatic to happen. After a few moments Zane sighed. “Nothing.”
Titus shrugged. “Never mind.”
Titus sat up, twisting too much, and winced in pain. At that moment Zane’s expression transmuted into surprise.
“It’s happening!” he whispered urgently, eyes darting around the room.
“Just go with it,” Titus whispered back as Zane stood slowly and then went over to his friend. “Don’t be scared, do what you feel is right.”
Zane looked down at Titus, concentrating on the area of his broken ribs. Gingerly he reached down and touched the bandages. Titus drew in a breath as Zane’s face strained with increasing effort.
“I can see it healing!” Zane gasped as his forehead began to glisten with sweat. Awestruck, he saw the blue haze around Titus, but not only that, into him, past the bandages, through his skin and muscle, to his very bones! Entranced, he watched the tiny fractures in three of the ribs very slowly begin to close, the bone knitting itself back together again. It was like watching the natural healing process, only sped up. In less than a minute, the bones were fused back to their rightful state, and as Zane’s mind withdrew, he noticed the inflammation around the area and willed it to subside. Before his eyes, the tissue swelling began to reduce, and then all of a sudden his vision was outside Titus’ body. Zane staggered back and sat down heavily, shaking as if he had run a marathon.
He rested his head between his knees as Titus sprang up out of bed and hurriedly began to unwrap the bandages. “I think it worked!” he said excitedly as Zane pulled himself up to flop on top of the bed with an exhausted sigh.
The bruising on Titus’ chest was only a pale yellow and less swollen that it should have been. He bent from side to side experimentally and stretched up towards the ceiling, then down to touch his toes.
“Brilliant!” he cried and rushed back to Zane. “Oh.” He deflated slightly, seeing that his healer was fast asleep.
It took a day for Zane to recover. Titus got to work clearing out the house next door, on the other side of the arched alleyway that ran down the side of Miri’s house. When she commented on the speed of his recovery, he assigned it to her excellent care.
Luthor and Erin began to move into a Georgian townhouse on Boswell Street, just off the southeast corner of Miri’s square. It made Jay even harder to live with. He seethed as he heard them clearing out rubbish that clattered into the street. He snapped at anyone who tried to talk to him, even Miri, whose previously bountiful patience was starting to wear thin.
In the afternoons and evenings Luthor would patrol the nearby streets to the south and then go hunting. He brought meat to Miri every day, which she genuinely appreciated. In an effort to improve the situation with Jay, Miri cured any leftover meat and sent a portion of it to the Boys. Jay was young and proud, but not stupid, and he could see that there was more to lose if he alienated the woman who cared for his gang so well. He was satisfied when Miri secured a promise from Luthor that the Red Lady still respected the boundary of the Blooms-bury Boys’ territory and would make no move to encroach any closer to it. Jay evidently hated Luthor, but it was clear that the Hunter was a man of his word and that it would be a serious matter for the Red Lady to retract such a promise. Miri reminded him pointedly that they hadn’t taken over her garden, only posted one person in it, but it was obvious that she feared the same as Jay.
It didn’t help Jay’s mood that, despite many creative attempts, the Boys couldn’t scrub the sign from his building. However, over the next couple of weeks, no more of them appeared, and Callum reassured him daily that no trespassers had been seen.
Titus began to train, much to his relief, and the daily routine, if occasionally strained, settled back down again.
The day finally came when Jay was given the all clear to return to his own territory. He hugged Miri tightly and told her that she was the best, waved to Zane, and hurried off. Both Titus and Luthor cheered up when they were told of his departure. Zane, however, was despondent; the house felt too quiet now that both Jay and Titus were gone.
Later that day, Jay reappeared, to Miri’s surprise. She was even more taken aback when he asked where Titus was. She directed him to the other side of the square where he and Zane were sitting on a wall talking in hushed voices.
“Alright,” he said, striding over confidently. Zane smiled and Titus fell silent, watching the gang leader with suspicious eyes. “Wanted to … er … I’d like you to come over to my patch, Titus,” he said and both Zane and Titus blinked in surprise.
“What for?” Titus replied warily.
“You’ll see. Nothin’ bad, honest-like.”
Titus looked to Zane who shrugged and nodded. He looked back up at Jay. “Only if Zane can come with me,” he replied.
Jay nodded. “No problem.”
When they entered the square, it was strangely quiet, with most of the Boys gathered in the central area. Zane picked up on Titus’ tension, even though his face betrayed nothing. He understood why; the last time Titus had been here they had beaten him and his sister had been stolen away.
Jay led them to the motley collection of Boys, several of whom were lined up in a row looking bad-tempered. Jay nodded over to Callum, who had been standing so still that at the far side of the square he’d escaped Zane’s notice. The old man gave a brief salute and shuffled off.
Jay turned to Titus. “Sommat ’appened that I wouldn’t normally be that bothered about, but I’ve been thinkin’ that I ’ent happy with it, so I’m gonna put it right.” One of the Boys in the row sighed loudly and Jay shot him a threatening look that soon quietened him.
“A while ago Titus ’ere and his sister came onto our patch and so we gave him a bit of a shooin’. You all know what else ’appened that night.” His eyes flicked over to two long mounds of earth in the far corner of the central square. “Since that night, Titus has been taken in by Miri, so I reckon Titus must be alright.”
Zane was astonished and smiled reassuringly at Titus, but his lips remained pressed tightly together.
“Now I ’ent sayin’ that he should be one of us,” Jay continued. “But what I am sayin’ is that we should try to make up for what happened when we didn’t know he was alright.”
He picked up on a movement near the back of the group. “What is it, Tim?”
“But Jay!” the Boy cried out. “He came into our patch! We didn’t do nothin’ wrong!”
Jay put his hands up. “I ’ent saying we did. What I’m saying is that he’s alright, and that I’m gonna give him a second chance. You know I don’t normally do that with those that ’ent one of us, but in his case I am, so shut it!”
The Boys fidgeted, clearly not happy with the turn of events, but still respectful enough of Jay to g
o along with his wishes.
“Go on, Smudge.” Jay poked the first Boy in the line and he sulkily approached Titus. He produced a small rucksack from behind his back that Titus clearly recognised.
“Sorry we nicked your stuff and walloped ya,” Smudge muttered, holding the bag out to him.
Titus took it and looked inside.
“Everything there?” Jay asked, keeping a close eye on the row of Boys, all of whom were staring at the bag resentfully.
Titus shook his head.
“Smudge!” Jay yelled and clipped him around the ear. “I told you to get everyone to put it all back in the bag.”
“I did!” the Boy yelled back, rubbing his ear furiously. “It ’ent my fault!”
Jay’s pale blue eyes scanned the gang, most of whom stared at their shoes. “What’s missing?” he asked, not taking his eyes from them.
“A jumper,” Titus replied. “A good one. It’s blue.”
One of the shortest Boys at the end of the line began to raise his hand in the air reluctantly.
“I gave that to Squeak, the new Boy,” he said tremulously.
“Squeak, come ’ere.” Jay beckoned to the far back of the group.
Zane tensed as he caught sight of the child peeping from behind one of the other Boys. He was dressed differently now, most notably in a blue jumper that came down to his knees. He was slightly less pale, but still watched Zane fearfully.
“Come ’ere!” Jay raised his voice slightly as the child shook his head. “Bring him over, Dev,” Jay said, and the ginger-haired Boy pulled the reluctant child with him despite his dragging his feet.
The Boy shook and Jay softened slightly. “You’re new, so I’ll let you off this one time,” he said and then frowned. “Nothin’ to be scared of.” He followed the Boy’s frightened gaze and then chuckled. “No need to be scared of Zane! He’s the last person that’d hurt ya! This your jumper?” he asked Titus, who nodded.
Jay pulled it off the Boy to reveal a tatty t-shirt and handed it over. “Dev, give ’im one of yours.”
“Aw, Jay! That’s not fair!” Dev complained.
“Shut it!” Jay growled and Dev withdrew, the little Boy scurrying away to hide behind the crowd again. Satisfied, Jay turned to Titus expectantly.
There was an awkward silence as all of the Boys looked at Titus too. Thank him! Zane thought, desperately wishing he could prompt him out loud.
“Thank you,” Titus finally said through gritted teeth.
Jay nodded in satisfaction. “Good. If you wanna come over with Zane, any time, you’re welcome. Hear that, Boys?”
The assembled muttered back their assent and Jay strode off, several of the Boys breaking away to trail after him with disputes that they wanted to bring to his attention.
Titus and Zane left the square in silence, Titus holding the bag to his stomach tightly. When they re-entered Miri’s garden square, Titus asked, “Why was that Boy scared of you?”
Zane told him about what had happened the day the Boy was found and how terrified he had been. Titus stopped in his tracks.
“You’re sure you’ve never seen him before?” Zane nodded. “And when did your mum say that your dad died?”
Irritated by how insensitively Titus asked the question, Zane reluctantly answered, “When It happened.”
Titus’ eyebrows shot up. “That’s a lie,” he said, matter-offactly.
Zane immediately took offence. “Don’t call my mum a liar!” he cried.
“But she must be,” Titus interjected calmly. “If you’re the same age as me, either he isn’t your Dad or she lied about when he died.”
Zane looked thoroughly confused.
“It happened twenty years ago,” Titus explained. “You were probably born about five years later. And seeing as how you look so much like him, I think she must have lied.”
Zane blinked, taken aback.
“In fact,” Titus continued, “judging by how frightened that Boy was, I’m starting to suspect that your dad isn’t dead at all. I think that he’s met him, and that somewhere, your dad is still alive.”
Chapter 18
CALLUM’ TRANSFORMATION
“No!” Zane replied forcefully. “I can’t do that!”
Erin sighed, flipping the ornate iron key over and over in her hand in frustration. Titus leaned against the captain’s desk and frowned at Zane, who was sitting in the corner of the dream room, knees under his chin.
“But don’t you want to know why she lied?” he pressed.
Zane bit his lip. “Of course I do, but you didn’t see how upset she was. She cried when I showed her that picture.”
“What about how upset you are!” Erin retorted.
Titus held up a hand in an effort to calm her and she put the key back on the shelf. Titus tried a different approach. “We could show the photo to Squeak–I think that was his name–and see what he can tell us.”
“We can’t do that!” Zane gasped and Erin looked up at the ceiling, trying to control her irritation. “He was scared of me and I only look like my dad. Imagine how he’d be if he saw a picture of him!”
Erin spun around. “Zane, this is your dad we’re talking about! What about how you feel? Don’t you want to know where he is, or what he’s doing? Stop worrying about everyone else and think about what you should know!”
Zane shook his head. “It’s not right to upset people. I’ve been fine without knowing up until now, and I’ll carry on being fine. And maybe Mum’ll tell me one day … it’s up to her.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell them that he was more frightened of what he might find out than curious to know it.
“Are you for real?” Erin exclaimed and Zane looked back at her, puzzled.
Titus put a hand on her shoulder. “I think if everyone were as concerned for other people as Zane is, London would be a much friendlier place.” She rolled her eyes.
“You’re too soft,” she muttered.
Zane looked down at the floor and a heavy blanket of silence descended over them. “I want to wake up now,” he said softly, and the room faded from around him. He turned over in his bed, lit the candle, and looked at the photo. It was crumpled around the edges from being carried in his pocket and stuffed under his pillow each night. He stared at the image of his father for a few minutes before pinching out the flame and sinking back into a restless sleep.
The next day, the children trained quietly, grateful to have Luthor’s lessons on setting snares to concentrate on rather than the uncomfortable conversation in the dream the night before. When the morning was over, Zane went over to Jay’s square and sought him out.
Jay made time for him, sending some of the Boys away so that Zane could speak freely to him. He listened patiently to Zane’s idea and when he was finished, scratched the edge of the bandage still left around his torso.
“You sure he’d like that?” he asked doubtfully. “Don’t see why anyone would meself.”
Zane nodded. “I know people used to really enjoy them before It happened. Can you help me, Jay? Please?”
Jay paused, thinking it all through. “I haven’t got all that stuff … I’ll have to trade with the Weavers for it,” he mumbled aloud. The Weavers were more a group of business associates than a gang, residing in Berwick Street, Soho, once renowned for its fabric trade. After any disaster, there’s always someone who finds a way to turn a profit from it, and the Weavers were expert at this, widely known as the first people to approach when searching for any rare goods. Rumour had it that the Weavers had filled every order ever placed with them, enjoying relative freedom from the more violent gangs due to their usefulness. Jimmy the Weaver, the nominal leader, may have seemed friendly enough but he was a shrewd fellow and one to take care around if you ever strayed that way. Jay knew never to go there at night as it was close to Gardner territory, and it was better to make first contact through a Runner for your own safety.
“You sure that’s okay?”
Jay nodded. “Callum did right
by us when I was laid up. I’ll send one of the lads over when it’s all set up … might take a while, though.”
Zane nodded, smiled, and then ran home, not noticing Dev wave at him hopefully as he raced by with his mind on the Weavers. He had never met any of them, of course, and Jay never sent any of his Boys there as it was so close to Gardner territory. If it wasn’t for the Runners, and the risks they were prepared to take to survive, the Weavers would probably have gone out of business. Zane had the feeling that so much happened in London beyond his mother’s garden.
Jay was true to his word, and three days later Tim was sent round to let Zane know that everything was ready.
He and Titus hurried to the square, leaving a message with Miri to let Erin know where they’d gone as she had been summoned by the Red Lady. Luthor was out hunting, so they didn’t have to worry about him seeing anything.
A huge bonfire was lit in the east of the inner square, and a tightly controlled operation stretched from its edge right into the Russell Hotel. Jay had a constantly moving stream of Boys carrying buckets of water from the rainwater butts nearby which were then poured into metal saucepans, heated over the bonfire, and carried finally into the hotel. He waved Titus and Zane over.
“Almost done, and Callum’s on his way. Go and check it’s all ok if you want.”
Zane and Titus went into the hotel to find the lobby lit with candles in jars, the filthy windows alone not letting in enough of the daylight. Very little remained of the reception desk; its wood had been taken and burnt a long time before. The former splendour of the walls and ceilings was now eradicated by years of neglect, the coffee tables smashed and the sofas stripped of their cushions and fabric. Now only a collection of springs and metal frames was left scattered around the edges of the area. The marble of the floor was revealed in the path where Boys had walked back and forth, brushing away the thick dust. More jars of candlelight spread up the large spiral staircase to their right, made hazy by the grime that clung to the glass wall that curved around it. Zane and Titus followed the light up the stairs, dodging small Boys either staggering under heavy pans of steaming water or scurrying back down the stairs with empty ones. It was easy to see where the small army was heading to and from, and Titus and Zane made their way to the same room.