Sparrow Falling (6 page)

“He wants the Queen’s Harp.”

“Have you been taking opium or some other drug that you are so slow and stupid? You used to be sharp, it’s the only reason I ever knew you were my son.”

Liu bit down hard on his lip. “My mother would never have dishonoured you in that fashion.”

“What, by bedding another?” Shun waved a hand. “I suppose not, she didn’t have the imagination.”

Liu’s hands clenched, out of sight in the sleeves of his gown. “Was it Ao Min who brought this to His Majesty’s attention?”

“Oh, probably, what does it matter?”

“It is often useful to know who one’s enemies are.”

“Min is a grumpy old fool, clutching grudges to his breast as though they were finest jade.”

“You never told me why he hates you so,” Liu said.

“I bested him and he cannot forget it, that’s all. So he told our Imperial Majesty, may he receive ten thousand blessings , that he had been cheated, and that the only way to overcome the humiliation was to receive something of equal value. Thus, the harp. And you, having been instrumental in robbing him of his gift, are to fetch it. It’s all very simple.” He grinned at Liu. “Don’t tell me you can’t do it, boy, after all, you
are
my son.”

“What if I can’t?”

Shun swung his legs back to the floor, and waved his hands. “Then your father will be, if he is very lucky, only disgraced, cast out, and humiliated. If not... the mountain of ice, or the platform above the lake of fire, if his Imperial Majesty is in a traditional mood. Or perhaps the bamboo, which he picked up from the humans, charming creatures. Have you encountered that particular delight?”

“No. Father...”

“One is bound above it, and it grows through the body. Of course, when the humans do it, the victim dies, whereas for us... well, I should say, for me, that will not be the case. An unpleasant fate, that – and extended as long as it should please his Imperial Majesty to do so.”

“He would have you tortured.”

“Really, boy, of course he would.”

Torture. He will be tortured.
Liu felt as though his skin had suddenly become far too thin – the soft folds of his own clothing scraped at him like rusty nails.
The lake of fire, the mountain of ice...
as a curious pup, he had visited the lake of fire. What he had seen there had destroyed any desire to see the mountain of ice.

He had never seen the bamboo torture. His guts writhed at the thought.

“Come, my boy, why such a miserable expression? You will not permit any of these things to happen to your father.” Shun bounced to his feet. “Are you telling me you can’t outwit the Queen? Must I come up with a scheme? Have you been distracted by your little human?”

“What little human?”

“Really, boy, I’m not completely ignorant of your doings.”

“I am honoured by your interest.”

“Don’t look sulky, that’s no way to answer a father’s care. I happened to hear that you were spending a lot of time with the humans, I thought I should look into it.”

In case you could find some advantage to yourself,
Liu thought, before he could stop himself.

“Thank you, Father, but I think it best if I try to handle this.”

“There, I knew you could if you only put your mind to it. Stop looking so gloomy, come with me and eat. Have you seen the newest concubine? Delicious little thing, isn’t she? Now, put your eyes back in your head, I’m not a complete fool, you know.”

“Of course not, Father. But if you will excuse me I won’t stay to eat. ”

“You’re terribly dull today; don’t tell me you’re becoming like your mother, or I will certainly end up impaled on bamboo spikes.”

Liu could not quite manage a smile – he knew it would show too many teeth – but he forced his expression to one of slight boredom. “Min glares so at the pair of us that it quite destroys my appetite.”

“Oh, don’t let that old curmudgeon get in the way of your food, come, eat, grow fat on the Emperor’s bounty. Annoy Min by stuffing yourself with all his favourite dishes.”

“If I am to come up with a scheme that is both effective and sufficiently pleasing, I should begin to consider it immediately.”
Also, honoured Father, I am not sure I can bear your company for another minute.

But torture... no. No. I cannot allow it.

The Sparrow School

E
VELINE CHECKED HER
equipment. Rope, picks, paper, treacle, drugged meat (Stug might have been lying about the dogs to throw her off, but there was no point taking chances).

She was just easing open the door when she caught the smell of smoke. “Hope you remembered your picks,” Ma Pether said, from the shadows.

“Ma...”

“I ain’t interfering. Just you be careful. You’re out of practice.”

“No, I’m not! I teach this every day!”

“You teach cons, my girl. That ain’t the same as sticking a bust. Not one bit, it ain’t. And you ain’t been at any of my classes lately, I’da noticed.”

“I haven’t forgotten, Ma.”

“You got your...”

“I have everything.”

“Those fancy new picks you bought won’t be no good if you’ve forgotten how to get in and out quiet. Remember what I always sez...”

“There’s plenty of things you always sez, Ma. Which one’d you like me to remember?”

Ma pointed a stubby, tobacco-stained finger at her. “Don’t you cheek me, my girl, you’re not too big to be put over my knee.”

“Oh really? You want to go back to running cons, do you?”

“You’d throw me out, would you?”

“I will if you try to get in my way. I’m doing this for all of us, Ma. Now will you please go... do whatever you were doing, and let me get on.”

“Just you mind yourself, Evvie Duchen.”

“It’s Sparrow, Ma. Sparrow. You should remember, you’re the one called me it to start with.”

“So I did. Little Sparrow’s flown the nest, but there’s still nets out there to catch little birds.”

“Ma...”

“Go on then.”

“Thank
you,
” Eveline said, and went off with something that looked rather like a flounce.

Ma Pether took out her tobacco pouch and refilled her pipe, with a slight smile, as she watched Eveline go.

Eagle Estates

E
VELINE FOUND THE
office again easily enough, though the buildings in this square all looked a great deal alike. Once one knew where to look for the brass plate, it was simple.

Getting in was less so.

The back proved impossible. Great high walls around a small area, difficult to get in, even more difficult to get out of in a hurry. And he’d not been lying about the dogs, big ribby half-starved things. She could drug them, but she didn’t have enough meat to drug the dogs belonging to the buildings on either side as well, all of them kept hungry, all of them excitable. Seemed everyone in these offices was more afraid of a prig than they were of keeping an angry dog hungry enough to bite anyone who happened to be passing.

Beth was working on a folding ladder which would be perfect for upper-storey work, but it wasn’t quite finished. And though Beth was a finicky creature, if she said something she’d made wasn’t safe yet, then Evvie believed her. Landing on her backside in the road with bits of ladder all around her and the Peelers coming to see what all the noise was about wasn’t how she planned to end this evening’s festivities.

So it would have to be the front door.

Mr Stug knew his locks, or at least could pay those who did, but so did Eveline.

Speed, and confidence. Those were the tricks of it. And a set of nifty new picks, of course. It took a little finicking. The sound of approaching boots sent Evvie flat against the side of the porch, barely breathing, until the Peeler had passed – but pass he did, and eventually the door clicked open.

The office was pitchy dark, smelling of ink and dust. It didn’t do anything for Eveline’s nerves – she
was
out of practice, whatever she’d told Ma. Practising on locks in the safety of the school was one thing, but actually sticking a bust was another. She straightened her back and headed for the stairs.

She paused by the office. Stug was probably just the sort to have all his important papers locked away, but it never hurt to pick up a little extra information.

No lock at all on this door. Foolish Mr Stug. If everything went as planned, she’d advise him to change that. Anything that provided a little extra trouble would deter the casual prig, as most of them were, and even a determined thief could be delayed long enough to decide the game wasn’t worth the candle.

The room was bone-cold, with the faintest of light seeping through the shutters. But Evvie had a solution; a neat little lantern. Bless Beth Hastings and her inventive mind! The lantern lit at the turn of a small handle, silently, giving a gentle greenish glow that was almost invisible from more than a few feet away. Beth was so clever, if she ever turned that marvellous mind to making something dangerous she’d have the world asmoke.

The lantern’s soft glow lit framed certificates on the walls and a presentation pen-set from one of the more nobby charities – the sort which gave balls, where people wore a mint of finery and where Eveline, dressed as a servant, had more than once helped herself to some charity of the rather more direct sort.

She shook her head at herself. She hadn’t taken as much notice of these trappings as she should have – she, Evvie Duchen – (dammit,
Sparrow,
she reminded herself – couldn’t afford to slip that way, not even in her own head) – Evvie Sparrow, always so careful to know her mark. Here was a man who wanted to present a respectable face to the world. She could have used that. She’d been all of a fither, and trying to think lawful. It wasn’t just being handy with the picks she had to bring to this – a mark was a mark. What you wanted was for them to buy something, whether it were a pig in a poke or no, and the more you knew of them, the more you could convince them it was just what they wanted.

There was a pile of correspondence in a wooden tray. She flicked through it. Nothing of note, invitations to this and that... but one bore what must be Stug’s home address, and a very toff ken too. She knew that street, couldn’t throw a stone without hitting some swell. She made a note of it, and nosed around the rest of the room, picking up a pen-knife here and an inkwell there, finally, reluctantly, returning to the hall.

The stairs wound up into darkness, a thin draft tickled her neck.

Yes, she was out of practice, and yes, Ma had properly put the wind up her, but it wasn’t like her to be so laggard. She breathed in, darkened the lantern so no stray light would sneak through the unshuttered window, and set her foot on the stair.

But the closer she got to the room, the slower her feet went. There was something – a scent, a sound – that was riling her nerves. She stood still, listening, and sniffed the air, but whatever it was wouldn’t come forward and make itself known. There was a dog yipping a house or two away, and the rumble of wheels, raised voices – but all of it was outside, none of it had that quality that meant,
get out, now.

Eveline shrugged it off. She had to do this and do it now, or they were all in the suds. She knew which pick worked on this lock and could already find it in the dark with ease – she’d spent hours with these picks, learning the exact shape of each so no troublesome and easily spotted lantern was necessary.

Snick.
The door jumped a little on its hinges, and opened at a push. With her senses on edge, Eveline waited for a theatrically loud creak or groan, but there was none, only a faint, weary whine.

The room was even darker now, of course, with no daylight seeping around the edges of the curtains. Evvie stood for a moment, just breathing. There was not enough light for her eyes to find however long she stood there, so finally she pulled out the lantern.

The low, underwater light, which downstairs had been merely convenient, here seemed to elongate and twist what it fell on, so that the legs of the table took on a crouching look, the rods of the chair backs became prison bars, the curtains – both those at the window and the one over the alcove – shifted and stirred as though something waited behind them.
Stop it, Eveline.

The book on the table was far too big. What shewanted was something that would be easy to carry, but would be missed – not something shoved in a corner and forgotten. She trod careful as a cat around the dim space, blessing Ma Pether for getting her into the habit of trousers when she was out on a job like this. There was a lot of dust.
Whoever’s cleaning up here en’t doing much of a job,
she thought. But then, the office downstairs was somewhere visitors would see. Perhaps Stug didn’t think it worth the trouble – or perhaps he didn’t trust anyone enough to let them up here. Another little flicker of unease ran up Evvie’s spine at the thought.
What doesn’t he want them to see?
She could see nothing of such obvious value that Stug would fear thieving by his staff; no safe, no important-looking papers. Besides that poor secretary seemed far too cowed to be on the sneak.

She drew back the curtain over the alcove. There was a trunk there, its top covered with cushions. Out of habit she noted their position, so they could be put back in the same place – then mentally laughed at herself. She was planning, quite deliberately, to steal something that would be missed – and she worried about someone noticing disordered cushions!

The trunk, however, proved to be both unlocked, and empty of everything but an odd, penetrating smell that she associated with hospitals.

Yet another oddity, and she was getting twitchier by the minute. There were things here that didn’t seem to belong in an office. Bottles and jars that looked more suited to a chemist’s, bunches of herbs hanging from nails. Horseshoes, and other random things, that tugged at her with a sense of familiarity.

She could hear Ma Pether’s voice in her head clear as day,
If it stinks of a trap, look for the cheese, birdlets – it’s there as sure as eggs is eggs.