The Fire King (5 page)

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-NINE

C
HAPTER
Twenty-T
HIRTY

C
HAPTER
O
NE

London, 1666. In which Emily and Co. find themselves in a spot of bother. A Murder of Ravens.

E
mily woke up in darkness.

She yawned, her mind going through the usual checklist of hopes and fears that accompanied every awakening. Would there be snow today? Would she get to the market in time? Would she sell enough watercress to feed William and herself?

She rolled lazily onto her back. Motes of dust glowed in the sunlight that skewered through gaps in the wooden walls. Emily frowned, sleepily confused. Wooden walls? Their room in Cheapside didn't
have
wooden walls. And what on earth was that
smell
?

Then it all came back to her in a rush of disjointed images. The battle in Hyde Park. Grabbing the key from the Faerie Gate just in time to stop the Faerie Queen's soldiers from invading London. And in the process leaping through the gate and finding herself trapped here. In 1666. She quickly felt around beneath the old sacks that covered the dirt floor. The key was still there, safely hidden away.

It was only then that Emily realized how quiet it was. She sat up and looked around their hiding place—an old tanning shed on the north bank of the Thames. (Jack had suggested it. He said the smell of old animal hides would make sure no one bothered them.)

She was alone. The others had gone.

A wave of panic threatened to overwhelm her, but Emily struggled against it. Keep calm, she told herself. Obviously, they hadn't just deserted her. She had dozed off while they had all been talking about finding something to eat. The others must have simply slipped out to get some food.

But why had William gone? She had told him not to leave the shed. He was too young—only nine years old. The city would be far too dangerous for him.

He hadn't been happy with that. But then, he hadn't been happy with anything she had told him to do for a very long time. There had been a brief period of reconciliation after he, Corrigan, and Jack appeared through the gateway after defeating Queen Kelindria, but that hadn't lasted long, and he had quickly slipped back into his old ways of arguing with her whenever she tried to tell him what to do.

The door to the small shed opened slightly, then got stuck on the sacking that littered the ground. A mop of untidy hair appeared in the gap as Jack tried to see what was jamming the door. He shoved with his shoulder, pushing the gap wider, then slipped inside and pushed the door closed. He turned with a grin.

“I come bearing gifts,” he proclaimed. His grin faltered as he took in the interior of the shed.

“Where's Will?”

“What do you mean? Isn't he with you?”

“No.” Jack held up a bundle of grubby paper. “I went out to get food. Meat pastries.” He looked dubiously at the paper. “At least, I
think
it's meat.”

“Then where is he?”

Jack tore his gaze away from the pastries. “Probably wherever Corrigan is,” he said darkly. “They seem to have taken quite a shine to each other. We need to watch that piskie, Snow. He's trouble.”

Emily tended to agree. Corrigan
was
trouble, but not in the way Jack meant. He had a knack for getting into mischief, but that was about it. Yes, he had betrayed her to the Faerie Queen, but he also came back for her. He had rescued William and herself from the Queen's cells. That was what counted.

But that didn't matter to Jack. He and Corrigan had clashed from the moment they met, and that didn't look set to change anytime soon.

As to whose idea it was to sneak out of the shed while Emily slept—both Corrigan
and
William were capable of making such a rash decision.

“We should find them,” she said. “Before they get into trouble.”

“Agreed. But one of us should stay here. If they come back and find the shed empty, they'll just head right back into London again.”

Jack was right. And as much as Emily wanted to feel as if she was doing something other than sitting around, Jack had already been into the city. She'd probably only get herself lost.

“Then you should go,” she said. “But if you don't find them in an hour, come back so we can figure out what to do next.”

Jack nodded and yanked the door all the way open. Hazy afternoon light spilled inside, illuminating moth-eaten pelts and three large barrels that had been shoved up against the sidewall. Outside, a dusty avenue lined with more halfruined sheds led down to the brown waters of the Thames, the sun glinting on small waves as they lapped against the muddy riverbank. Jack handed her the small package of pastries (Emily briefly thought about asking him where he got the money to buy them, but she wasn't sure she would like the answer, so decided against it), then he hurried along the weed-choked road.

Emily watched until he disappeared behind one of the tumbledown shacks, then sat down on a smooth boulder outside the shed.

She fished around in her jacket and once again pulled out the pocket watch the Dagda had given her. The metal was covered in patterns so delicate they were hard to see unless you tilted the watch to catch the light. Emily gently rubbed her fingers across the engravings, then pressed the gold button at the top. The lid clicked open, revealing a circle of plain, dark glass. What did it mean? Had the Dagda tricked her after all? Back in Hyde Park the watch had shown Emily her ma and da, sitting in a room in an old castle, dragons circling overhead. But ever since she'd come through the Faerie Gate, all it showed was a blank face. How could she tell if the images had even been real? She'd been tricked and lied to over and over since this whole thing began. It was hard to know what the truth was anymore.

A loud caw echoed forlornly through the ramshackle buildings. Emily looked up, startled by the sound. A large raven was perched on the rotting roof of one of the sheds. But it wasn't like any raven Emily had ever seen. Instead of the normal black color, this one was totally white, with eyes that were a bright, startling blue. The bird tilted its head to the side, staring down at the package of pies in Emily's lap. It cawed again. This time, the caw sounded demanding, as if the bird was giving her an order.

Emily hesitated, then put the watch away and unwrapped the flimsy paper. She broke off a chunk of crumbly pastry and threw it onto the path. The raven let out a triumphant caw and flapped down from the roof, its pale beak stabbing violently at the food, throwing it up into the air and catching it before it touched the ground. Emily watched the bird with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. It was the biggest raven she had ever seen. Its beak alone was about the length of her middle finger.

The bird finished the morsel of pastry. Then it tilted its head again so it could stare at her with one pale blue eye.

“No more for you,” she said firmly. “Shoo.” Emily tried to wave the raven away, but the bird simply followed the movements of her hands, watching expectantly for more food. When nothing was forthcoming, it hopped closer, snapping its beak rapidly together, making a
click-click click-click
noise that Emily found vaguely threatening. “Shoo,” repeated Emily. “Away with you.”

The bird ignored her and hopped even closer, still clicking its beak. Emily searched around for something to throw at it, but as she was doing so, she saw Jack reappear at the end of the lane, followed closely by William and Corrigan.

Emily surged to her feet. The raven let out a startled cry and danced backward. It launched itself into the air and fluttered to the roof, all the while cawing its raucous displeasure. Emily ignored it and hurried toward the others. As she approached, she could hear Corrigan complaining loudly from his position on Will's shoulders.

“I don't see what all the fuss is about,” he snapped. “We went to look for food. What of it? What if you hadn't found anything for us? Then we'd all be starving.”

“I
did
find something,” replied Jack, grim-faced. “But
you
didn't.”

Corrigan waved this observation away. “It was only a matter of time,” he said. “We only came back because William didn't want Emily to worry.”

“Bit late for that,” said Jack.

Emily met up with them halfway along the avenue. One look at Will's sullen face told her she shouldn't say anything. She knew that. But she couldn't help it. The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to stop them.

“What were you thinking?” she snapped. “Oh, how silly of me. You
weren't
thinking, were you? That is patently obvious.”

“It's not my fault if you fell asleep,” responded William hotly. “Corrigan wanted to wake you up, but I said we should let you rest. I was doing you a favor!”

“Then don't! Don't do me any favors, William. Wandering

off like that was a foolish thing to do. What if something had happened? We'd have had no idea where you were.”

“Nothing happ—,” started Corrigan, but Emily just turned her glare on the piskie, and he quickly clamped his mouth shut.

“Anyway,” said Jack uncomfortably. “We're all here now, eh? No harm done. Let's just eat our pastries, then we'll decide what to do next—”

“I can tell you what you'll be doing next,” said a voice. “And it won't be eating. Less you can eat with a knife in your guts.”

Emily whirled around. A girl who looked about the same age as Jack was leaning against one of the unused sheds. She wore a dirty shirt that might once have been white but had been washed so many times it had faded to a dull yellow. The shirt was tucked into leather breeches, which were in turn tucked into a pair of well-worn boots. Her outfit was topped off by a wide-brimmed hat with a white feather sticking jauntily from the top.

The girl was holding what looked to be a very sharp knife. She tossed it into the air, letting it turn end over end a few times before catching it again. She repeated this over and over, never once taking her eyes from the group.

After a brief moment to recover from his surprise, Jack sauntered forward, the cocky grin Emily always found so annoying flashing across his features. “Good day to you, miss. Spring-Heeled Jack's the name,” he said. “And who do I have the honor of addressing?”

The girl snorted, and for a moment she and Emily locked gazes. Emily only just stopped herself from rolling her eyes in commiseration.

“You have the honor of addressing Katerina Francesca. And most men bow when addressing me.” She looked at him critically. “Although I see you are no more than a boy, so your lack of knowledge of polite etiquette is perhaps understandable.”

Jack's smile slipped from his face. “Boy?” he spluttered. “You don't look any older than me!”

“Maturity doesn't come with age,” said Katerina. “Something most wise people already know. But again, allowances must be made for your obvious lack of upbringing.” For a moment the girl lost her haughty tones and frowned at Jack. “And what kind of a name is Spring-Heeled Jack? It's silly.”