Shanghai Sparrow (36 page)

And that was not, by a long chalk, her worst problem.

Holmforth was taking her to Shanghai. To make his infernal machine, whatever it was, work. And she still didn’t know how.

And what about Mama? How was she going to keep her fed and cared for while she was away?

E
VERY TIME SHE
came up here, she was certain she was going to be caught; the back of her neck twitched with every rustle and creak.

“Mama, I brought you some food. It’s not much – potatoes, mostly – I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mama’s voice sounded almost as pale as she looked, as she pushed herself out of the ancient sagging chair and came to hug Eveline.

“Mind the potatoes! Oh, and I brought a book.”

“Oh, how marvellous!” Mama almost snatched the book out of Eveline’s hand, holding it close under the lamp and peering.

“It’s just some Shakespeare. I found it in the library.”

“Never say
just
Shakespeare, Eveline. What a delight. They would give us ‘improving tracts’ and other pap. Nothing to excite the brain, you see.”

“I’ll bring some more. Only, Mama, you’ll have to be careful about using the lamp. Someone might see.”

“I’ll be careful,” she said, though wistfully. “My darling, I can’t stay here much longer. Sooner or later someone is bound to find me.”

“I know, Mama. I’m trying to think of what to do. I’m going to have to be away for a little while. I was going to ask Beth to help, but now...”

“What about that young man who drove me here? Can he help?”

“No,” Eveline said. “No, he can’t, and I wish I’d never trusted him.”

“I’m sorry you feel like that, Lady Sparrow,” said Liu. He was standing by the open door that Eveline knew she had shut behind her. “Madam Duchen.” He bowed.

“Liu? How the...” Eveline swallowed the curse and contented herself with glaring. “Don’t
do
that.”

Liu was wearing dark green silks. Even in the dim lamplight, he looked weary and strained, not the merry imp she was used to. She shoved down the impulse to ask him what was wrong.
Don’t be soft, Eveline Duchen. He’d love to know you felt sorry for him. Remember who he is.
“What do you want?” she said. “It’s not safe, you coming up here. Someone’ll see.”

“No, they will not, I promise. I hoped that I might be able to persuade you...” He glanced at Madeleine Duchen. “Your daughter does not trust me, because my father was of the Folk.”

“He was?” Madeleine Duchen looked puzzled. “I didn’t know there
were
Chinese Folk.”

“Oh, yes. But I spend much of my time with the Folk of your lands. And that is why... perhaps I should get to the meat of why I am here?”

“Yes,” Eveline said. “Why don’t you?”

“I have been doing some investigating. I need you to believe me, Eveline. I need you to trust me. And I found out something I hope will please you. So...” He turned away, and made a gesture to the corridor.

Eveline, convinced he had betrayed them, expecting Miss Cairngrim and a phalanx of policemen, blinked as a slender young woman appeared.

She was slight, with a mass of curly black hair tumbling to her waist, dressed in a flowing gown of some pale green stuff and fragile, gilded shoes, completely unsuitable for the weather. She looked about fourteen.

“Who’s this? Another one of your Folk?” Eveline said.

“Oh, I’m not
his
,” the young woman said, giving Liu a glance that verged on contempt. “My name’s Charlotte. I suppose you must be Eveline.”

“C
HARLOTTE
?” F
OR A
moment the name meant nothing at all. Then Eveline heard her mother whisper, “Charlotte?
My
Charlotte?”

“Are you my mother?”

“No!” Eveline said. “No, it’s a trick! You... how could you, Liu? I know you’re Folk...”

“...half...”

“I didn’t think you were
cruel
.” She flung her arms around her mother, who stood rigid, her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes huge, staring. “What
is
this?” Eveline said. “Charlotte’s
dead
.”

“No,” Liu said. “Charlotte isn’t dead.”

“Of course I’m not dead,” said the girl. She had made no motion to approach either Eveline or Madeleine, but stood poised by the door. “This place is very dark. And it smells. I want to go.”

“Tell them who you are,” Liu said.

“I am Charlotte, a groundling, under the protection of Aiden of the Court Emerald,” she recited, with a sort of resentful boredom.

“Tell them what groundling means,” Liu said.

“It means I’m not Folk. It means I’m a human. I’m Aiden’s.
He
doesn’t care, he likes me.”

“Aiden,” Eveline said. “You know Aiden.”

“I don’t
know
him, I’m his.”

“I don’t understand,” Eveline said, looking at this strange, chilly, rude girl.

“I think I do,” Madeleine said, her voice unsteady. She put her arm around Eveline’s trembling shoulders. “Eveline told me what happened, in the woods. He saw you there, and realised you were sick, perhaps dying, and decided to take you in – like a stray puppy. You’re a changeling, aren’t you, my dear?”

Eveline fought to control her whirling thoughts. “I thought changelings... I thought they left a fairy child...”

“Oh, perhaps they have, in the past,” Madeleine said, “but mostly, it’s just a thing, a sort of mannequin. There was one in the village, when you were tiny. Sometimes they’re made of wood, but... I’m right, aren’t I? Come to me, child.”

Charlotte came forward, reluctantly. “You’re old.”

“Oh, not so old, just... just human,” Madeleine said. She reached out her hand and touched the glossy black curls. “My little Charlotte.”

Charlotte watched her warily, like a nervous colt.

“I don’t believe it’s her,” Eveline said. “It’s a trick.”

“It isn’t,” Madeleine said. “Oh, my little love.” Tears were trickling down her face. “Are you coming back to us?” she said.

“Coming
back?
” Charlotte backed away, looking dismayed. “Why would I come back?”

“But you’re family,” Eveline said. “If you really are.”

“So? All I remember about
here
is being cold, and hungry, and hurting. I remember someone, I suppose it was you” – she looked at Madeleine – “being sad. I don’t like sadness. Or cold. In the Crepuscular it’s always warm, and I have enough to eat and pretty things to wear. Aiden looks after me.”

“He looks after you,” Eveline said.

“Yes. He thinks I’m amusing.”

“And when you’re not ‘amusing’ any more?”

“I shall make sure I remain so.”

“And when you get old?” Eveline said. “Will he still think you’re amusing?”

“I shan’t – not like you. Aiden’s promised. I won’t get all... wrinkled,” she said, screwing up her nose.

Eveline glanced at Liu. He gave a small, sympathetic shrug. “Charlotte, do you remember the harper?” he said.

“No,” she said.

“I think you do.”

“I don’t
want
to,” she said. “Leave me alone.”

“What happened to him?”

“He was stupid. He displeased his mistress and she punished him. I’m not stupid like him.”

“Just tell them what happened, so they understand.”

“He didn’t want to play the harp any more, so she made him one with it, and now he sings all the time.”

Now he sings all the time...
The wind gusted hard against the corner of the eaves, and wailed. Eveline felt a shudder clench the muscles along her spine.

“Was it hard for her?” Liu said. “To do that?”

“Why would it be? She’s of the Court. She can do whatever she wants. I want to go
home
.”

“Home,” Madeleine said.

“Yes.”

“Come kiss me once, then.”

Charlotte scowled, but allowed herself to be kissed, and her lips brushed the air near Madeleine’s cheek. “Do you want a kiss too?” she said to Eveline.

“No,” Eveline said. “Wait. Mama...”

“Let her be, Eveline,” Madeleine said. “I understand. It’s hard for us, but she must do what she wants. One thing, Charlotte, before you go. Listen to your mother, this single time, will you please?”

“Oh, very well,” Charlotte said, smoothing her gauzy skirts.

“You’ve made your choice, and it is an easy life – unless you ever want something else. I’m sorry, my love, that this has happened. And if this is what you want, then you go with my blessing – though I suppose you don’t care much for that, not now.”

Charlotte’s lips pressed together, and she looked away.

“But if you ever decide you
do
want something else,” Madeleine said, “if you tire of being at someone else’s whim, or if they ever treat you badly, we’ll be here, Charlotte.”

“No!” Eveline couldn’t stop the word. It came out half-strangled, but loud. “No, you can’t just let her
go!
” She reached out for Charlotte, hardly knowing if she meant to embrace her, or shake her silly. Charlotte stepped back, a look of distaste plain on her face.

“I thought you were
dead
,” Eveline shouted. “I thought you were dead and it was
my fault!
You can’t just
leave!
” She swung round to her mother. “Why are you... what...” Tears choked the rest of the words in her throat.

“Because it’s what she wants, Eveline,” Mama said, folding her arms round her and holding her very tight. “Shh, poppet, shhhh. Goodbye, Charlotte.”

“Goodbye,” Charlotte said. She turned to Liu. “Take me home.”

“Lottie...” Eveline said, “please...” But then there was a faint distant shimmer of music, and Liu took Charlotte’s hand, and Eveline’s sister walked away, into the dark corridor, and was gone.

“W
HY DID YOU
let her go, Mama?”

“Because she has made her choice, Eveline. I did so badly by her, by you both – and what could I give her? She would be miserable here. I think it would be like Bedlam was for me. Cold and strange and she wouldn’t understand why she was here. And we’ve nowhere to live.”

“But she’s
family
.”

“So was Uncle James,” Madeleine said, sighing. “Family isn’t always the best choice, or even a possible choice, Eveline.”

“How can you be so
calm?
”

“I had to learn. I had to learn patience. And resignation. A great deal of both.”

“It’s my fault...”

“No.” Madeleine turned Eveline around to look at her. “No. You did your best, as I did. We did the best we could with what we had. And she is
alive.
Maybe, one day, she will decide she would rather not be a pet. If she doesn’t, well, she will have a comfortable life for a long time. If she can stay on their good side, she’ll probably live far longer than either of us.”

“She’s alive,” Eveline said. “Yes, well, I suppose that’s something, isn’t it?”

“That’s very much something, Eveline. Oh, come here, my love, don’t cry.”

But she did, for a long time, in her mother’s arms, while the wind howled and the rain beat its small helpless fists on the windows.

Liu had been standing there for some time before either of them noticed him.

“What do you want?” Eveline said, sniffing.

“I am very sorry,” he said, bowing. “I did not mean to cause you so much distress.”

“Why’d you do it, then?”

“You wanted us to understand,” Madeleine said, “didn’t you?”

“Yes. Also, I thought it would please you to know she was alive.”

“It does.”

“Don’t be nice to him, Mama, he wants something.”

“Eveline, hush.”

“I do want something,” Liu said. “I want you to promise you will not make that machine work. It’s not just the Folk here, but the Folk of my country. If they even
begin
to suspect...”

“You won’t, will you?” Madeleine said.

“That part’s easy enough,” Eveline said. “I can’t. Weeks, I’ve been looking at your machines, Mama, and I can make ’em make sounds enough to fool him, but they don’t work. But if I don’t go along and at least look like I’m trying, we’re in the... we’re in trouble, both of us. And what then? If I don’t manage it, he’ll find someone who does, sooner or later. If Etherics is a science, even if it’s one
I’m
no good at,
someone’ll
find out how to do it.”

They looked at each other in the deepening gloom. The lamp flickered, and a bell jangled in the quiet. “Oh, I’m late!” Eveline jumped to her feet. “I
have
to go with him, I’ll... I don’t know. I’ll work something out.” She kissed her mother. Liu followed her out of the door, but when he tried to speak to her, she repeated, “I’m late!” and ran. It was true – if she didn’t get to Evening Occupations, someone was bound to notice – but mainly she had no desire at all to talk to Liu just then.