The Stolen Child (21 page)

Justin would come back for her.  She was sure of that.  
The thought lay at the back of her mind, something constant and unquestionable.  Like a stone.  She had never trusted anyone in the quite the same way.
 

There was a shuffling sound from beside the bed, and a quiet cough.

“You're not really asleep, are you?”
s
aid a voice
that it took a moment to recognise
.  
She
picture
d
the girl's face.  
'
Arsha
'
, that was her name.

“
Sorry, it's just kind of obvious.  Your face keeps moving.  And you're breathing too fast,” Arsha continued.  
“
I mean, i
t's OK, if you don't want to talk or whatever.  I've got a book to read.  I just thought... you know... you might want to talk.”

Carefully, Rachael opened her eyes.  Arsha
did indeed
ha
ve
a book open on one knee.  
The girl was dressed in loose silks, brightly embroidered in blues and greens.  An old fashioned brass lantern sat on a small table beside her, giving off a hazy white light, though Rachael saw no sign of a flame.
 

“
Hey,” Arsha said, smiling as she closed her book.
 

Rachael sat up, and as the covers fell back she realised that she was in her underwear
.  
She snatched up a blanket, and Arsha tried to conceal a smile.
 

“It's OK, I've got them too,”
t
he girl said, giggling.

Rachael scowled at
Arsha
, not saying a word.

“
S
orry.  
Y
our clothes
kind of... ummm... reeked,
” Arsha said.  The girl paused for a moment, then extended her hand.

“
So, w
e
sort
of met.  I'm Arsha,”
she
added
.

“
Yeah.  I know,
” Rachael muttered,
without making any move to take the girl's hand
.  “So, what... You're keeping an eye on me now?  Make sure I don't escape?”

Arsha scowled.
 

“You
were out cold.
 
We wanted someone to stay with you, make sure you were OK.
”

“How long?”

The girl looked confused.

“How long have I been here.”

“Oh.  
Since last night.  It's evening now.  Milima will have dinner on soon, if you're hungry.
”

“
Great.  Kidapping and room service.  You guys are the best,
”
Rachael said, her voice dripping sarcasm.
 

“Kidnapp
ing
?”  Arsha's eyes narrowed indignantly.  “We rescued you, from that monster.”

“Yeah, good going,”
Rachael
snarled.  “That 'monster' was my friend.  
He was...
”  She
couldn't
even shape the words around the lump that formed in her throat when she thought about Justin.  
Again, she remembered
smell of scorched feathers in the air.  “He was the only
person that's ever done right by me
, and you tried to kill him.  Nice rescue.”

“He was trying to kill us.”

For a moment it seemed that Arsha's indignant expression was masking something else.  Rachael saw a glimmer of fear in the
girl's eyes.
  “And anyway, we weren't trying to...  I told you that we were coming to help you...”  
The girl
floundered, a bitter look on her face.  
Without another word she opened her book and pointedly went back to reading
.  Rachael
sat back, relishing her small victory
.

As the silence deepened she
examined the room
.  It was tiny, barely
large enough
for the narrow bed, a small dresser, and what looked like a
closet
set in one wall.  
I
n the wall
over the bed there
was a round porthole, but a brief glance showed only clouds,
confirming
her theory about the flying
ship
.  The door had a latch and a keyhole.  She guessed it was probably locked, though she could
n't
actually remember hearing the lock turn when the girl had come in.

A
nagging voice
in the back of her mind
was telling her that whil
e
chewing
Arsha
out
had felt really good, it might not have been the best idea.  If she was up in the sky, with no way off this ship, she was going to have to deal with being stuck here for a while.  There'd be no chance of escape until they put down somewhere, or Justin came for her, and either way she'd be best off knowing as much about th
e
ship as she could.  The adults who'd hauled her aboard weren't likely to tell her anything,
but
Arsha seemed
much less guarded
.  Whilst she'd taken an instant disliking to the girl, that sneaky little voice was telling her that making friends with Arsha was probably her best chance of finding a way to escape.

“Look, I'm sorry,”
s
he said, flatly.  “I know it wasn't your fault and all.”

For a while, Arsha made no sign of having heard her at all.  Rachael felt
herself growing increasingly irritated, as the girl let the silence play out.  She was actually startled when Arsha finally spoke.
 

“You drool when you sleep.”

Rachael glanced down at the pillow, and saw a damp spot in the middle of the impression her face had left.  As silly as it was, she felt a colour rise in her cheeks.  Arsha closed the book and looked up.

“I saw what Ilona did to you,”
t
he girl said.  “It wasn't... She shouldn't have done that.”

“Thanks,”
Rachael
said, careful not to say more in case she crushed the fragile truce.  
In the awkward silence, her eyes wandered, settling on the strange lamp sitting by the bed.  Something about the light it gave seemed oddly familiar.  
Next to the lantern she noticed another object on the side table.  It was a small silver figurine, carved in the shape of a bird, head tucked under one wing as if asleep.  The detail was incredible.  She could make out each individual feather.  Curious, Rachael reached out to touch the little figurine, but no sooner had her fingertips brushed across one wing than the little bird sprang to life.  Silver wings chimed as they spread wide, and the little bird took flight, whirring around the room in a tiny grey blur.  Rachael pulled her hand back as if burned, and an astonished gasp escaped her lips.
 

“
Hey, hey, shhh...”  Arsha reached up with gentle hands to coax the bird down into her open palm.  “This is Penelope.  She's
a little excitable.”
 

The bird hopped from one foot to the other.
 

“
Is that thing real?” Rachael said.  Her heart was still pounding.
 

“
She's a real autom, yeah,” Arsha said.  “She's Telverian made.”
 

“
But it looks so real.  Like its almost alive.”
 

“
Well, she is, sort of.  She only pretends to eat and sleep of course.  But aside from that...”
 

“
How's that even possible?  She's like an actual robot or something,” Rachael said, still staring at the little machine.
 

“
A what?”  Arsha scrunched her face up.
 

“
I guess its what we'd call 'em, in the real world... Or, my world, or whatever you'd call it.  But I mean that's only in movies and stuff anyhow.  We can't really make, y'know, anything like this.  What did you call it again?”
 

“
She's an autom, if that's what you mean.  But her name's Penelope.  Or Penny is OK,” Arsha said, slightly put out.
 

“
Right, yeah.”  Rachael leaned forward to examine the little bird closely.  
Penelope hopped back a step and turned to regard her with one
pearly
bead of an eye.  Gently, Arsha began to stroke Penelope's feathers back, the metal seeming to move like something much softer under the girl's fingertips, as the little creature twisted her head appreciatively.
 

“
So
, is there anything I can get for you?” Arsha said, as she set Penelope down on the dresser again.  “Like, a glass of water, or...”

“
I wouldn't mind getting my clothes back, actually,” she said.
 

Arsha smiled.
 

“
They're in the wash... I think.  At least I'm pretty sure Milima was joking about burning them.  But I've got some of my stuff you can have.”
 

“
Um... OK.  I guess.”
 

Arsha
looked
her over for a moment,
eyes fixing on her cheeks and then her hair, and she sniffed pointedly.

“
Maybe a shower first,” she said, sticking her tongue out.  Without even thinking, Rachael smacked the girl on the arm, and was rewarded with a delicious yelp of pain.  As Arsha rubbed at her arm, scowling, Rachael wondered if she might have taken it a little too far.
 

“
Sorry,” she muttered.
 

“
It's OK.  I guess I kind of deserved that,” Arsha replied.
 

“
A bit, yeah,” Rachael said, but she found herself smiling, and to her surprise Arsha smiled back.
 

“
Come on then,” the girl said, gesturing towards the door.
 

Soaking wet and surrounded by clouds of steam, Rachael stood on the porcelain tiled floor of the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror.  She hardly recognised her face without the layers of grime that it seemed to have built up over the last year.  Her hair, sadly, remained an impossible mat of tangles, and after several painful attempts to pull a brush through it she was forced to give up.  She wrapped a towel about herself, and stepped out into the corridor.

Arsha was waiting for her, leaning against the wall with a
bundle of cloth folded over one arm.  Her little robot pet was sat on her shoulder, and in her free hand she held some kind of large blue crystal set into a silver frame.  Flickering lights hovered just above the surface of the stone.  As Rachael stared at it in fascination, Arsha looked up, smiled, and pocketed the device.
 

“
These should fit you OK,” she said, lifting the bundle slightly.
 

“
Thanks,” Rachael said, her eyes wandering to the lanterns that lined the hallway.  Like the one in her room, they showed no sign of a flame.  Just a glowing light, like a speck of dust floating inside the glass bulb.
 

“It's a ghostlight,” she said, more to herself than to Arsha.

“Yeah.  How'd you know?”
the girl
replied
, looking surprised.

“Something Justin told me.  I used to see them.  When I was little.”

“I didn't know you had ghostlights in your world.”

“Well we don't... I mean... I guess we do.  But it was only people like me that could see them.  
Or something.
”

“
Oh,” Arsha said, apparently at a loss.
 

“
Is that normal then?” Rachael gestured at the lamp.  “Using them as lights like that?”
 

The girl shrugged.
 

“
Yeah.  It's better than chemical lamps.  I mean they're not as bright, but they last for ages and they don't get hot or smell bad or anything.  You just close the shutter when you don't need them.  They go to sleep after a bit.”
 

“
Right.  Yeah,” Rachael said, feeling her stomach twist as she
watched the little mote of light drifting inside the glass.
 

The clothes at least didn't fit too badly.  Though Arsha was taller, and certainly larger in a few areas than she was, the loosely cut tunic and trousers seemed comfortable enough.  She stared at herself in fascination, silver thread gleaming against blue silk.  Nothing like the jeans and t-shirts she was used to.
 

She was still fiddling with the new clothes when Arsha appeared in the doorway.
 

“
They're OK?”
 

“
Yeah.  Thanks,” Rachael replied.
 

“
So, dinner should be ready
,
if you're hungry,
”
Arsha said
.

Feeling her stomach growl at the mention of dinner,
Rachael nodded.  
A
s they made their way up the stairs, Rachael found her attention caught by the smell drifting down from the kitchen.  
T
hey emerged into
a surprisingly large dining hall with a long bench table down one side.  The rest of the room was occupied by cupboards, counter-tops, a sink and an iron cooking range.  Standing by the stove, a woman in an apron was stirring something in a heavy copper pot.
 
Her long,
dark
braids were tied
back with a knotted hankie.  The woman
looked up
as they entered and smiled warmly.  
As she turned towards them, Rachael's attention was immediately drawn to the tattoo around her right eye.  Like the rest of her it had been weathered by age, but the white lines were still clearly visible against her jet black skin.
 

“H
ello
.  I was hoping you two might be up soon.”

“Hey Mi
m
,” Arsha said.  “Rachael, this is Milima.  She's awesome.”

“Hey,” Rachael said, cautiously.

“Hi Rachael.  I hope you're feeling better.”

“Yeah.  Sure,”
s
he said.

“It's OK,” Milima said, turning to stir
the
pot for a moment.  “I know you must be apprehensive right now.”