Camille (20 page)

I took the fairy from her fingers and watched
the sculpture twirl in the air. “Can you make me some wings like
these? I would like to fly away and find some mystical forest to
live in.”

“But your heart would be here. With that
boy.” She was only a half sister, yet she knew my every thought.
How could we be anything but whole together?

“Aye. That boy.” I sighed and searched for
Emily’s other hand beneath her shawl. It was cold even underneath
the knitted wool. “He’s gone, Em. I don’t know what will happen to
him. To us.”

She let go of my hand and brought me beneath
her shawl. “Love can be a wretched thing, little sister.”

“I had no idea I could feel this way about
someone. Everything about him, those thin lines around his mouth,
the way he scrubs his face with his hands when he’s frustrated,” I
laughed, “the way he wears that smelly old coat. Just saying his
name makes me dizzy.” I stood and walked to the window. The
hospital grounds were barely visible. “Nothing can happen to him.
Even if he leaves me forever and goes back to his old life for
good, I have to know that he’s alive and well.”

“Then find him, Cami.”

I plopped back down next to her. “Is life
supposed to be this difficult, or did we just happen to fall into a
particularly rotten one?’

Emily smiled. “Rotten. I could not have said
it better myself.”

I handed her the second chocolate. “Chocolate
does make it more bearable though,” she said and quickly removed
the wrapper.

“Emily, why did you not tell me about
John?”

“You are my sister, my twin sister, and I
didn’t want you to think differently of me.”

Strider had been right. “Tis John I cannot
seem to forgive,” I said.

“He was a man in love. People do and say
anything when they’re in love. Surely, you have discovered that
yourself.”

“But he was Father’s best friend.”

“I’m not saying what he did was right, but
try to think of it from the point of view of someone completely and
hopelessly in love.”

“Completely and hopelessly. I could not have
said it better myself,” I said with a sigh.

“And what has become of your friendship here
at the hospital?”

“Like the moon, it waxes and wanes,” she
said. “Let’s take a turn around the hall. I’m feeling quite
energetic today, and the weather does not permit for a stroll
around the yards.

“You should get outside more, Emily. You are
dreadfully pale.”

“Perhaps I should pinch my cheeks like mother
used to do.” She stopped to nod hello to several other patients who
lingered in the hallway chatting. “You know, Father never treated
me differently. After he found out, he could have turned me out in
the street or sent me to John’s. But he always treated me like his
own.”

“He was a good father,” I said. We reached
the end of the passage and turned to make the return trip to
Emily’s room. I laughed. “This is certainly invigorating, Em.
Nothing like that simple walk I must endure to visit you.”

She squeezed my arm. “I’m glad I could
encourage you to get some much needed exercise. It’s very good for
the mind. Or so they say.”

“Actually, I believe it is. And when I
finally drag you from this morgue, you’re going to take long daily
strolls that involve walking on cobblestone not rose patterned
rugs.” The corridor where we walked was dotted with trailing pots
of heart shaped leaves and ivory urns filled with ferns. It was
astonishingly quiet and comforting, and for a moment, I could see
why Emily preferred this place to the outside world.

“Someday, Camille. Someday soon. But for the
time being, you have enough to worry about. Was there anything
significant in the journal?”

“Do you mean besides Father’s confession that
he purposely contaminated his own blood?”

“He was a man of extraordinary curiosity. I
mean one can hardly blame him.”

“You’re very forgiving. He longed to satisfy
his own curiosity more than he longed to raise his daughters.”

“True. I guess since I’ve known longer, I’ve
had more time to forgive him. It will come for you too, Cami. With
time.”

And elderly woman shuffled toward us barely
moving her feet with each step as if they’d been tied together. The
woman’s shoulders sloped down from a large hump on her back, and
her thin hair barely covered her scalp. “Lovely day for a stroll,
is it not, Mary?”

The woman did not return the greeting but
continued past at a snail’s pace.

I leaned closer to my sister. “Why does she
walk like that?” I whispered.

“Mary has been here for decades. She walked
these halls with chains round her ankles for years. She still
thinks she’s chained.”

I glanced back at the woman who had hardly
covered any ground since she’d passed us.

Emily gave my arm a tug, and I faced forward
again. “Now back to my original question. Are there some theories
inside that will help?”

“John is still reading through it. Right now
he is trying something I came up with after reading about immunity
to Smallpox.” I lowered my voice, but it was not really a place
where people bothered to listen in on conversations. “We stole a
blood sample from a corpse, our last victim.”

“It isn’t as if he would miss it. And the
results?”

“It seems to be working. Nathaniel’s blood
cells have stopped mutating and are returning to normal.”

Emily made a sudden turn toward a tall
window, and we stopped to gaze outside. The fog had not lifted, and
the only thing visible was the faint outline of the large tree in
the center of the yard. “You need to find Nathaniel.”

“He could be anywhere. Even in jail, I
suppose, or worse.”

Emily stopped and turned to me. She kissed me
on the forehead, and I realized we hadn’t missed one heartbeat of
sisterhood even with the news that we had different fathers. “Start
back at the beginning and follow your heart, Camille. You’ll find
him.”

“Is it still working, then?” I asked from the
doorway of the lab.

Dr. Bennett’s face popped up from the
microscope. “Camille, I didn’t hear you come in.” He glanced at the
scope and back at me. “Yes, everything appears to be working.
Still, I’m worried about the trace amounts of silver from the man’s
blood. Even small amounts could eventually prove lethal. But time
will tell.” He reached for another slide and slid it under the
lens. “How’s your sister?” He asked trying to sound nonchalant and
doing a miserable job of it.

“She’s very well, actually. We strolled
through the hallway, and she was in good spirits.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

I stepped into the room. “We need to remove
her from that place. She needs to come home.”

His blue eyes lifted. They were Emily’s eyes
except cloudier from age and surrounded by tiny wrinkles. “I
couldn’t agree more.”

I moved to the microscope and bent over the
eyepiece. Blood cells, his blood cells, looking as they should,
shifted under the lens. I straightened. “But for now, I need to
find Nathaniel. Tomorrow morning, I’ll start off to Buck’s
Row.”

Dr. Bennett’s face whitened. “I’ll come with
you.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll dress like a boy. I think
I should talk to him alone.”

He stood and walked to the cot. The day’s
paper was spread out on it. He wrung his hands together before
reaching for a paper. The expression on his face when he faced me
again was grim. “There was an incident on the Strand, Camille.” He
handed the paper to me. “Several boys who’ve aligned themselves
with some lout called Smithy were attacked and beaten severely. One
of the boys clings to life in a hospital ward.”

I crumpled up the paper without reading it
and threw it against the wall. “Pray, don’t tell me anymore.” Dr.
Bennett placed a hand on my arm, but I yanked it away. “They
deserved it.”

“Camille, the boy is extremely dangerous. He
took on four and left them in a crumpled heap. The police mentioned
that the attacker had the strength of ten men, but the victims
insisted they saw only one man.” He stepped in front of me as if he
intended to keep me from going after Strider.

I could not look at him and stared down at my
feet instead. “Rage can make anyone dangerous.”

He moved closer and his tone softened. “There
is a difference between human rage and the rage of a beast.”

My face shot up. “He’s not a beast! We’ve not
even reached a full moon yet. And we’ll cure him before anything
more happens. You’ll not stop me, John.”

His shoulders relaxed. He nodded before
stepping aside. “Then go to Buck’s Row, Cami, and find him. I know
the boy cares for you a great deal and wouldn’t harm you while
still in human form.” The wrinkles on his face seemed more
pronounced as he looked at me. “There are only a few days left and
reading about the incident by the river, I fear if we do not stop
the transmutation now, we may never be able to stop him.”

I was absurdly happy to hear him say that. It
meant that one way or another, Strider would survive, and that was
all I cared about, no matter what the cost.

****

On the west side of town there was constant
change. Behind a shop window, a plush cashmere muff for winter
replaced an intricately painted fan for summer heat, the facade of
a coffee house changed from rich red to glossy blue, and the fur
trim and embroidered lace of cooler days stood in for the yellows
and pinstripes of fair weather. But the lower East End never
changed. Oil stained skirts and trousers that have seen more than
one owner until so ragged they are close to being returned to the
wool factories for shredding, the same dilapidated shop fronts with
the paint nearly gone and the foundation rotted by rain, the same
barefoot, bone thin children holding out a frozen palm waiting for
a halfpenny to be added to it. Nothing changed except the weather
on the East End. After walking through every alley and by every
public house, disappointment set in. There was no sign of him. It
was entirely possible that he was in hiding from retribution or
from the police. Although they were unlikely to spend much time
chasing down an attacker whose only victims were street thugs.

Every corner began to look the same and
fearing I might be lost forever in the maze of filth and despair, I
headed toward the sound of carriage traffic hoping to end up on a
main road. I pushed the sleeve of my coat higher and rubbed the
crescent-shaped scar on my arm. It had never given me trouble
before, but for the last several minutes, it had tingled oddly.

A pair of worn shoes jutted out from behind a
stack of empty barrels, and my heart raced as I drew closer. They
were Strider’s shoes. Not surprisingly, a flurry of feminine
giggles erupted from behind the barrels and I froze. Could I stand
to see him with another girl? Would he pretend not to know me?

Then I heard his voice, and my knees nearly
collapsed beneath me. I pushed forward on shaky legs and peered
around the wall of wooden containers. It was the other Strider, the
lad I’d followed after the night in the cemetery. There was an
empty bottle of gin between him and the girl at his side, a girl
I’d never seen before. The red head , Lucy, knelt behind him with
her arms around his neck. It felt as though someone had thrown a
lead cannon ball hard at my stomach. I stepped into Strider’s line
of vision, and he lifted eyes that were glazed with drunkenness. He
stared at me as if I were a hallucination but said nothing.

Both girls looked at me in my trousers and
hat and threw back their heads with laughter. The girl I’d never
seen jumped up and flicked off my hat. I didn’t move. “Ain’t you
bonny in your trousers and coat.” She laughed again and sat back
down next to Strider. He had not taken his eyes off me.

Lucy swung around the back of him and landed
in his lap. Strider dumped her onto the pavement. She shot up and
lifted a hand to slap his face, but he caught her wrist. Her hand
dropped, and she scooted onto the step next to him. She lifted the
bottle of gin to her mouth and threw back her head to get the last
drops.

“What are you doing ‘ere?” His voice sounded
low and hoarse.

“I got lost on my way to the palace.”

The girl I’d never seen before wrapped her
arms around his. “Strider, is this girl a witch? Only a witch would
have a streak of white in her hair.”

Strider pulled his arm from her grasp and
scooted back to rest against the wall behind him. His lids drifted
shut for a moment, then he opened his eyes again. “Aye, she might
be a witch at that. She definitely knows how to cast a spell,” his
gaze did not leave my face as he spoke.

“It’s time to go, Nathaniel. Days are running
short.”

He smiled. “She’s a witch and a huntress. And
I’m her prey.” The two girls looked completely befuddled by his
comment. They both eyed me suspiciously. Lucy attempted to get to
her feet. “I’ll get rid of ‘er for you,” she barked.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her down next
to him.

“Go home, Camille. I’m where I belong.”

“So you’re giving up now? You nearly killed
those boys.”

My statement sobered him some. He looked
sideways at the girls. “You lasses go on ahead. I’ll meet you at
Tom’s later.” They moved hesitantly. Lucy managed to clash
shoulders with me nearly pitching me sideways before she walked
away.

“How’s Goose?” I asked rubbing my
shoulder.

Strider flicked the empty gin bottle onto its
side with his thumb and forefinger before nudging it with the toe
of his shoe. The bottle clamored down the pavement and cracked
against the first building to land in its path. “Goose is dead.
They said his brain swelled and pressed against his skull.”

‘I’m truly sorry, Nathaniel. The boys you
beat—will Smithy come looking for you now?”