Elementary (29 page)

“
I don't know what you're talking about,” the Girl said in the same language.

“Watch and see,” Badstink Man said, taking something long and sharp and gleaming out of his pocket. Bounce couldn't see exactly what it was, but it smelled Wrong. Badstink Man walked over to the bear's cage and reached inside where the bear couldn't get at him. He did something, and the bear roared in pain.

And then the bear
Changed.
He grew until he pressed against the cage on every side. His teeth grew, and his claws grew, and the smell of Wrongness came from the bear now, and that was the most terrifying thing of all.

Badstink Man backed away to the other side of the room, but his voice held no fear as he said, “Be free, precious one.”

The bear tore the cage open, and when he stood, his head nearly touched the ceiling. For a moment Bounce hoped the bear would kill Badstink Man, but then his muzzle wrinkled as he sniffed the air of freedom. He opened his jaws and roared, then flung himself up the steps that led to Above.

“He is free,” Badstink Man said. “Not merely of his cage, but of every restraint of Nature. It is a pity you cannot understand the wonder of what you have seen.”

“Water,” the Girl said. “They will die without water.”

“What is that to me? I no longer need them.” After a few moments, Badstink Man followed the bear.

 • • • 

The rain didn't let up until half past two the following afternoon, but Frederick had slept until noon. Bucket had to be bathed and fed and bandaged, and he hadn't wanted to disturb Mina by then, so he'd slept in his dressing room, with the puppy curled up under his chin.

When he awoke, Bertram brought him
The Illustrated London News
and a summons from the Council in its usual tidy vellum envelope, complete with sealing wax and ribbons. The
News
was more interesting. On the front page, complete with a lurid sketch, was the story of an attack on the sexton of St. Matthew's on Church Row. He'd been dismembered by what witnesses swore was an enormous
bear—
the only witnessed attack, but a dozen people had died in the same manner last night.

Frederick regarded the unopened summons balefully. He already knew what it contained. A dozen murders, whatever their cause, would spark a panic. And so Captain Wentworth, as the sole Animal Speaker on the Council, would be dispatched to deal with the matter—after suitable lecturing about how this wasn't their problem in the first place.

He got to his feet and began to pace. Bucket, who had been lying at Frederick's feet, stood as well.

“Go now?”
Bucket asked. “
Find the Girl?”

“You know,” Frederick said, ringing for Bertrand, “I think we might as well.”

It would spare him a conversation with Alderscroft, since the Poison Master was probably the one responsible for this plague of werewolves. And stopping him was undoubtedly what the Council wanted Frederick to do in the first place.

Even if it wasn't, it was always better to ask forgiveness than permission.

 • • • 

It was a long time before the smell of Wrongness faded, and even longer until the Girl stopped weeping. But when she finally spoke, there was iron in her voice.
“We have to get out of here before he comes back.”

“How?”
Jingo demanded, hooting and leaping.
“We are all trapped in little boxes.”

“Not all of us,”
the Girl said firmly.
“The rats in the walls are free.”

“They won't come here,”
Bright Eyes said, and Bounce knew she was right. Rats were clever, and the cellar was filled with smells that promised death.

“I think I can persuade them,”
the Girl said as she produced something from her pocket. The smell of food—even if it was nothing but a piece of stale bread—made Bounce's mouth water. It had been so long since he'd eaten.
“But you have to promise to be still,”
she said firmly to Bounce and Bright Eyes.
“If you frighten them, they will not help us.”

Bounce lay down and rested his head on his paws.
“All right,”
he said.

“All right,”
Bright Eyes agreed.

And the Girl called the rats.

 • • • 

If he hadn't been able to draw a glamour around himself, Frederick wouldn't have ventured into this part of London for a hundred guineas, even dressed as he was in his oldest and most disreputable clothes. He began in the alley where he'd found Bucket, hoping the puppy could pick up the scent. Day turned to evening and then to night as they walked the streets, circling and backtracking as Bucket found the scent and lost it again. At last Bucket struck a strong trace, at almost the exact instant Frederick caught a hint of Water Magic. It was like something glimpsed out of the corner of his eye—there and gone and there again. It made him a bit dizzy.

“Man,”
Bucket whispered.
“Man who took the Girl.”
He leaned against Frederick's leg and trembled.

Frederick squatted down and stroked his head. “Do you know where?” he asked gently.

“This way,”
Bucket said, putting his nose to the ground and taking a reluctant pace forward. Frederick followed. The Water Magic lay that way, too. He was pretty sure he didn't like this any more than Bucket did.

 • • • 

Finally, an enormous gray rat reluctantly emerged from the wall. Bounce knew there had to be others. Where there was one rat, there were many. The smell was nearly enough to drive him mad. He imagined the rat between his strong jaws. He imagined the swift shake that broke a neck. He whined softly with longing.

“I promise Bounce and Bright Eyes will not hurt you,”
the Girl said to the rat.
“They have given me their word.”
Unafraid, she held out the bread.
“And I will give you this for your help.”

 • • • 

Frederick began to understand why the gnome had been unable to track the man who kidnapped the Goose Girl. The Water Magic wasn't the work of a Master, but it was cleverly woven. All around him, the world seemed to ripple and shift, dissolving here and there into bright sparks of light. It dazzled the inner eye and drew the attention first here, then there, and then to still another place on the horizon. If not for Bucket, he would have gotten hopelessly lost, and even forgotten why he was here in the first place. Fortunately, the Poison Master hadn't thought to ward his domain against the puppy's sensitive nose. He kept on walking, nose to the ground and hackles up, and Frederick followed.

 • • • 

Stumptail clambered up onto the crate where Percy's cage rested and stood on his hind legs in front of the door. The cage was made of wire, but a rat's teeth were strong. Suddenly the cage door sprang open, and the raven hopped out, flicking his wings to settle the feathers. Stumptail leaped from the crate to the ground and darted back to the hole in the wall from whence he'd come.

“Now you must free Bright Eyes,”
the Girl said to Percy.
“I know you're clever enough to figure out the latch.”

“Of course I am,”
Percy said, and flap-hopped across the floor to where the cat's cage sat, his talons clicking against the stone. Percy hopped around the cage a couple of times with his head cocked, studying it, before he nudged up the hook and the door swung open. Bright Eyes leaped free and whirled to face the raven.

“I am not supper, you stupid feline,”
Percy said, spreading his wings
in unmistakable threat.
“Try it and I'll peck your eyes out. Free Jingo. You promised.”

Bright Eyes lashed her tail and fixed Percy with a stare that would have made a lesser bird take wing, but finally—reluctantly—she sprang up to the crate over which Jingo's cage hung. Percy and she both inspected it carefully, but the latch had been designed to defeat a captive with hands.

“If it falls, it will smash,”
Bright Eyes finally said. Without waiting for any reply, she sprang upward, clinging to the cage as it rocked. Jingo whimpered.

Then it fell, and Bounce yipped despite himself. For a moment nothing happened, but the fall had sprung the bars enough for Jingo to reach through them. In a moment he was free. He bounded over and drew the pin from the latch on Bounce's cage.

“Here you go, old chap,”
the monkey announced, swinging the door wide. Bounce crept out of the cage, savoring his freedom. Jingo turned to the Girl's prison.

“A lock,”
he said.
“I cannot open a lock.”

“Is there a key?”
the Girl asked hopefully.

Just then the door to Above slammed open, and the scent of Badstink Man filled the air.

“Go!”
the Girl cried.
“Save yourselves!”

“The window!”
Jingo said. It was the work of a moment for him to unfasten the latches. He paused on the sill, then leaped through the opening. Percy and Bright Eyes followed. Bounce hesitated. The Girl would be here alone. He could stay. He could protect her.

“Hurry!”
the Girl said. There were footsteps on the stairs.
“Go! You must go now!”

Bounce sprang onto the table beneath the window and looked up at the window. He was not a cat or a raven or a monkey. He did not fly or leap. He dug. He pounced. He ran fast.

But the Girl had asked this, and so he crouched down and jumped up as high as he could. His forepaws hooked over the sill, and his hind legs scrabbled against the wall. For a moment, he thought he would fall back.

Then he was through.

 • • • 

Frederick nearly shouted in surprise when a cat, a terrier, a monkey, and an enormous raven burst abruptly from an alley not three yards from where he nursed the headache that damned Water working had given him.

“Here!”
Bucket cried.
“Here! Girl! Here!”

“Earth Master!” t
he raven said in surprise.

“Help the Girl!”
the monkey shouted, his lips going wide in a fear grimace as he sprang from the ground to a box and then to Frederick's shoulder. “
Help the Girl!”

“This way!”
said the terrier, and Bucket followed. Frederick ran after them, the monkey on his shoulder, followed by the cat and the raven.

Kits, cats, sacks, and wives,
he thought giddily, as he followed the dogs down the alley from which they'd just come. There was an open cellar window through which his new friends had clearly made their exit, and next to it, a door.

It would have had to have been a much stronger door than Whitechapel usually boasted to resist Frederick's efforts to enter. The Water Magic wrapped around him like a stifling blanket, and he stumbled across the kitchen, barely catching himself against a wall before he fell down the stairs to the cellar. But now even the Water Magic wasn't enough to keep him from sensing the presence of another Earth Magician.

The Goose Girl. Claire Prentiss' daughter. It had to be.

He headed for the stairs. He could hear voices.

“What did you do?” a man snarled, and the voice was startlingly familiar.

Frederick flung himself down the last ten stairs.

In the cellar stood George Cliburn, holding a soot-streaked, rag-clad street urchin by the upper arm. The girl was struggling, but while Frederick could sense the latent Earth power coiling around her, it was clear she had no idea it was there, let alone how to use it.

Cliburn turned at the sound of Frederick's footsteps on the cellar floor. His eyebrows lifted. “Well, if it isn't Captain Wentworth, here to rescue another one of his strays.”

“Let her go, Cliburn,” Frederick said through gritted teeth. “I'm here to bring you before the Council.”

“The Council is finished. I've done it, don't you see? My lovely hound and my beautiful bear are only just the beginning. I've mastered Stevenson's elixir. Magic is dead, and Science is king. Men shall become as gods.”

“You're mad,” Frederick said flatly, reaching into the ground beneath him for the tiny trickle of available Earth power. He wished now that he'd thought to bring a pistol.
Come on, Wentworth, you're a Master, not an untutored child,
he told himself
.

Cliburn
tsk
ed mildly. “Oh, come now, Frederick, you're a forward-thinking man. Surely you can see I'm the future. Imagine an army of soldiers augmented by my elixir. What force could stand against the Empire then?”

“You can tell Alderscroft all about it,” Frederick said. He drew a deep breath and began haltingly to weave a net of compulsion around Cliburn. The bright flickers of Water power darted around him, dizzying him, disrupting his focus.

“Now, now, my good Captain, I'm not ready to publish yet. But I have been working on something else that might interest you.” Cliburn reached into his pocket and flung the contents of a little vial into Frederick's face.

Blackness swamped his senses as the ground rushed up to meet him.

 • • • 

The Earth Master crashed to the ground, and the Girl cried out. Badstink Man laughed delightedly.

Jingo leaped to the windowsill, and Bounce cringed back into a corner, but Badstink Man didn't seem to notice them now.

“I'm sorry,”
Bounce whispered, gazing up at the Girl.

“You tried,”
she whispered back. Her Voice was full of pride, even though her eyes were full of terror. And then she went utterly still, as if listening to something.
“Wait,”
she said. “
Do you hear that?”

Bounce didn't hear it, but he could
smell
it. The bear. Close. He must have come back to the only familiar place he knew. The Girl had called him a Circus Bear and said Men had treated him badly. Perhaps the Circus Bear thought cruelty meant Home.