Mairelon the Magician Page 2
“He is awake,” said the voice of Mairelon the Magician. “He’s just pretending. Come on, child, you might as well admit it. You’ll have to open your eyes sooner or later.”
Kim sighed and capitulated. She gave a hasty look around as she opened her eyes, in the faint hope of discovering a way out of her predicament. She was propped against the row of cupboards; one of the doors was open, presumably jarred free when she had been thrown against them. The cord that tied her looked regrettably sturdy, and the knots were unfamiliar tangles. After one glance, she abandoned any thought of slipping free while her captors’ attention was elsewhere.
“Quite so,” said Mairelon.
Kim looked up. Mairelon was standing next to the chest, on the opposite side of the wagon. He had removed his cloak and hat; without them, he seemed both shorter and younger than he had appeared on stage. His expression held none of the anger and annoyance Kim expected; instead, there was a gleam of something very like interest or amusement. She began to hope she would come around from this, after all.
Beside Mairelon stood the droopy man. He, too, had removed his hat, and his grey and black hair was plastered flat against his head. He alternated sour glares at Kim with nervous looks directed at Mairelon, and he was chewing continuously on one end of his mustache.
Kim looked back at Mairelon. “Proper knowin’ one, ain’t you?” she said in her best boyish tone.
“As far as you are concerned, not nearly so knowing as I would like to be,” Mairelon replied affably.
“You going to call the nabbing culls?”
“That depends on how much you are willing to tell me.”
“I got no reason to keep quiet,” Kim said frankly. If the toff who’d hired her had been more open, she might have felt some obligation to keep her mouth shut, but not even an out-and-outer would expect her to protect an employer who’d withheld crucial knowledge about a job. Especially when she hadn’t been too keen on it in the first place.
“Then perhaps you would explain just what you were doing in my wagon,” Mairelon said.
“Lookin’ about,” Kim said promptly.
The droopy man snorted through the damp ends of his mustache. “Stealing, more likely.”
“Quiet, Hunch,” Mairelon said. He looked from Kim to the open cupboard with a speculative gleam. “Just looking?”
“That’s right,” Kim said firmly. “Just lookin’ about.”
The magician’s eyes narrowed, and Kim wondered whether her reply had been too forceful for the boy she was pretending to be. It was too late to change it now, though.
“That accounts for the cupboards, I think,” Mairelon said after a moment. “How did you—”
“You don’t never believe ’im, do you?” the droopy man demanded.
“Hunch! Refrain from interrupting, if you please.”
“And let you get yourself in a mort o’ trouble from believing things you ’adn’t ought to?” Hunch said indignantly. “I won’t never!”
Mairelon gave his henchman an exasperated look. “Then you can go outside until I’m done.”
Hunch’s face took on a grim expression. “Nay.”
“It’s that or be silent.”
The two men’s eyes locked briefly; Hunch’s fell. “Aye, then, I’ll ’old my peace.”
“Good.” Mairelon turned back to Kim, who had been watching this exchange with great interest. “As I was saying, I think you’ve explained the cupboards. The chest is another matter. How did you open it?”
“Picked the lock.”
“I find that a little difficult to believe. It’s not a simple mechanism.”
“Didn’t have to be,” Kim said, allowing herself to bristle at the implied reflection on her skill.
Mairelon raised an eyebrow. “Well, we’ll leave that for the moment. Just why were you, er, looking about in my wagon?”
“A gentry cove at the Dog and Bull said he’d pay five pounds to know what you had in here. Said he had a bet on it.”
“Did he.” Mairelon and Hunch exchanged glances.
“He thought he’d gammoned me proper,” Kim said. She took a perverse pleasure in betraying the toff who’d gotten her into this. “But if it was just a bet, why’d he let me talk him up to five pounds? And why was he so nattered over that wicher-bubber?”
“Wicher-bubber?” Mairelon said, looking startled, and not altogether pleased. “You mean a silver bowl?”
“That’s what I said. The toff wanted me to look for it.”
“Did he ask you to steal it?” Mairelon demanded, his expression tense.
“No, but I ain’t saying he wouldn’t of been right pleased if I’d a nicked it for him.”
“There!” Hunch said. “What was I telling you? ’E’s a thief.”
“Look, cully, if I was a sharper, would I be telling you straight out?” Kim said, exasperated. “All I said was, I’d keep an eye out for it, and that’s truth!”
“So all you agreed to do was come in, look around, and let him know whether you saw this bowl?” Mairelon said.
“That’s it,” Kim said. Hunch snorted, and she glared at him. “There wouldn’t be no harm done, after all; just lookin’ about. But he ought to of said somethin’ about you being a real magician with fancy locks and exploding chests.”
“What did this toff of yours look like?”
“A real swell. Top hat, and gloves better’n the ones Jamie sells, and a silk cravat.” Kim shook her head in wonder that was only partly simulated. “A top hat, at the Dog and Bull.”
“What color was his hair?”
“Muddy. Thin, too.”
“His hair or himself?”
“Both.”
Mairelon nodded, as if he had expected that answer. “And did he give you something to make it easier for you to get in here? And into my chest?”
“No, and I wouldn’t of took it if he’d offered. I ain’t no flat.”
“Then suppose you show me how you managed it,” Mairelon said.
Kim nodded, and the magician reached for the rope that bound her hands. Hunch made a strangling noise. Mairelon paused and looked at him with an expression of innocent inquiry.
“You’re never letting ’im go?” Hunch said, plainly appalled by the idea. “You got no idea what ’e’s up to!”
“I think the two of us can handle her.”
Hunch bit down hard on the right side of his mustache. “’Er?”
“Oh, you didn’t realize?” Mairelon said. He turned back to Kim while Hunch was still gaping mutely, and gave one of the loops of cord a sharp tug. The knot slid apart as though someone had greased the rope, leaving Kim’s hands free. She blinked, then darted a hand forward and yanked on the cord that held her ankles.
Nothing happened. “There’s a trick to it, of course,” Mairelon said blandly. “I’ll show you, if you like, when you’ve finished your own demonstration.”
Kim looked up in disbelief. Mairelon was smiling in what appeared to be genuine amusement. “You will?”
“Yes. When you’re finished,” he added pointedly. Hunch scowled ferociously at his master’s back, but did not dare voice any more criticism.
“All right, all right,” Kim said. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the bit of wire, and set to work. She was fairly sure by this time that the magician would not turn her over to the constables, but instead of reassuring her, the knowledge made her even more uneasy. Why did he hesitate?
She watched Mairelon surreptitiously as she wiggled the wire. He didn’t look particularly impressive, but he was no flat, that was certain. He was no ordinary street magician, either, not with the inside of his wagon done up like a gentry ken. Not to mention that thing in the chest that had blown Kim halfway across the room.
The memory slowed her fingers. True, she’d actually been poking around in the chest when the spell or whatever it was had gone off, but Mairelon could easily have changed it while she was unconscious. She had no desire to repeat the performance.
“Give over,” Kim snarled, and twisted her wrist. Again she heard the faint click, and the lid of the chest rose fractionally. Kim lifted it open and looked triumphantly at Hunch.
“Impressive,” Mairelon said. He looked at Kim thoughtfully, and the gleam of interest was back. “I didn’t think anyone but old Schapp-Mussener himself could open that chest without the key.”
“It’s a knack,” Kim said modestly.
“It’s a talent, and a very impressive talent, too.” The gleam became more pronounced. “I don’t suppose—”
“Master Richard!” Hunch interrupted.
“Mmmm?”
“You ain’t a-going to do nothing dreadful now, are you?” Hunch said in a severe tone.
“No, no, of course not,” Mairelon said absently, still looking at Kim.
“Good,” Hunch said, much relieved.
“I was just going to ask our guest here—what is your name, by the way?”
“Kim.”
“Kim. I was just going to ask Kim here if she would like to come with us when we leave London.”
Hunch bit both ends of his mustache at once. “You ain’t never going to bring her along!”
“Why not?” Mairelon said in a reasonable tone. “It might be useful to have someone along who’s familiar with … things. A lot has happened in the past four years.”
“You want me to come with you, after I snuck in here and blew things around?” Kim said incredulously. “You’re bosky!”
Hunch started to nod agreement, then caught himself and glared at Kim. “You can’t do it, Master Richard! She’s a thief!”
“I ain’t!”
“Stop it, both of you.” Mairelon’s voice was firm. He looked at Hunch. “I don’t think Kim is a thief, though it’s plain that she’s had some of the training. Not that it matters.”
“It do too matter! What are you going to do with ’er?”
“She could help with the act,” Mairelon said. “She seems a handy sort of person.”
Hunch snorted. “Ain’t that what you said about that Frog ’oo sherried off with ten guineas and your best coat?”
“Yes, well, he was a little too handy. I think Kim will do much better.”
“At what?”
“She could make a very useful assistant eventually. Provided, of course, that she would be willing to come along?” Mairelon looked questioningly at Kim.
“You ain’t gammoning me?” Kim said suspiciously.
“No.”
The single word was more convincing than Mairelon’s speeches had been, but Kim still hesitated. What did he expect to get out of hauling her along with him? From the luxurious interior of the wagon, it was plain that Mairelon could afford the company of the best of the fashionable impures, if what he wanted was a doxy. He had no reason to pick a grubby imitation boy out of the market instead. And he wasn’t the sort who preferred boys, Kim had learned long ago to spot and avoid them. So what did he want?
“You ain’t unfastened me yet,” she pointed out at last.
“An oversight.” Mairelon bent and tugged at the cord that fastened Kim’s ankles. Again the rope slid apart, and Mairelon straightened with a flourish. “Now, what do you say?”
“You’d really show me how to do that?” Kim asked, her mind whirling. If she could learn a few of Mairelon’s tricks, she might be able to get steady work at one of the Covent Garden theaters—real work, the sort that required more than a low-cut dress and a willingness to do whatever might be asked. She could earn enough to eat regular and sleep warm without looking over her shoulder for watchmen or constables or Bow Street Runners; she could stop being afraid of Dan Laverham and his like, she could—she forced herself to cut that train of thought short, before the hope grew too strong, and waited for Mairelon’s answer.
“That and quite a bit more,” Mairelon said. “How else could you be any help in the act?”
“She don’t look like she’ll be much ’elp anyways,” Hunch muttered. “Nobody’s a-going to pay to watch a grimy little thief.”
“Call me that once more, cully, and—”
“Enough.” Mairelon’s voice was quiet, but Kim found herself swallowing her words faster than she ever had for Mother Tibb’s angry screeching. “Stop provoking her, Hunch.”
“If you can’t see what’s under your nose—”
“Oh, she doesn’t look like much now, but I think you’ll be surprised at how well she cleans up.”
“I ain’t said I’m coming with you yet!” Kim said crossly.
“And you haven’t said you’re not, either,” Mairelon replied. “Come, now; make your decision. I have things to do if you aren’t.”
“Huh.” Kim was unimpressed. “I ain’t wishful to get into no trouble with the nabbing culls. What’s your lay?”
Mairelon smiled. “I’m a traveling magician. I play the markets and fairs.”
“Give over! I told you, I ain’t no flat. Folks that can do real magic don’t waste time flashing tricks at the markets. And you ain’t got yourself no wagon done up like a gentry ken that way, neither.”
“That’s my affair. I’ll give you my word that we’re doing nothing illegal; if you’ve other questions, you’ll have to wait for answers. After all, we don’t know you very well yet.”
“No, nor want to,” Hunch said under his breath.
Kim frowned at him automatically, but her mind was busy elsewhere. She’d never get a chance like this again, she was certain. Risking Mairelon’s unknown objectives was a small price to pay for the promise of a few days’ worth of regular meals and a safe place to sleep, even without the promise of tutoring. Add in the possibility of learning something that would free her from the perilous hand-to-mouth world of the London slums and Mairelon’s proposal was well-nigh irresistible, especially since she’d probably never find out what the magician was really doing or what was so important about that bowl if she didn’t go along. And if she didn’t like it, she could always tip them the double and come back to London. She’d be no worse off than she was now.
“Well?” Mairelon asked.
“All right, then,” Kim said. “I’ll do it.”
Hunch groaned.
“Good!” Mairelon said, ignoring Hunch. “We’ll see the tailor tomorrow about getting you some clothes. We won’t be long in London, so I’m afraid there won’t be many of them.”
“Sounds bang-up to me,” Kim said. It took most of her will to sound moderately pleased instead of all but stunned speechless. Clothes from a tailor? For her?
“She’ll run off as soon as she’s got everything she can off you,” Hunch prophesied gloomily.
Kim started to protest, but Mairelon’s voice overrode her “Hunch, if you don’t stop trying to pick out a quarrel with Kim, I shall be forced to leave you in London.”
“You wouldn’t never!” Hunch said.
“No?”
Hunch muttered something under his breath and stomped to the far end of the wagon. Mairelon looked after him and shook his head. “He’ll come around, never fear. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
“Ain’t you forgetting something?” Kim said.
“What?”
“That skinny toff down at the Dog and Bull, that sent me in here lookin’. What’re you going to do about him?”
“I think he ought to get what he’s paying for,” Mairelon said after due consideration. “Don’t you agree?”
Kim thought of the underhanded way the skinny toff had held back information to keep the price down. “No.”
“Yes, he certainly should,” Mairelon said, as though he hadn’t heard Kim. “I think you should go back to that place you mentioned—what was the name again?”
“The Dog and Bull.”
“Of course. I think you should go back and collect your five pounds.” He paused and smiled at Kim. “What do you say?”
THREE
<
br /> Kim darted across a street directly in front of a hackney, causing the horses to shy. The driver’s curses followed her as she slipped into the pedestrian traffic on the other side, but she paid no attention. She was late for her appointment, and she didn’t know how long the skinny toff would wait.
Not that she was particularly anxious to see him again, five pounds or not. She still wasn’t sure how she’d been talked into this. Maybe it was because Hunch had been so set against it; knowing how much he disliked the idea, she couldn’t resist going ahead with it. Or maybe it was Mairelon’s persuasiveness. The man made it all sound so reasonable, and he knew just how to appeal to Kim’s curiosity.
That, of course, was the root of the problem. Kim dodged a lamplighter, ducking under the end of his ladder. Someday she was going to get into real trouble if she didn’t stop poking her nose into things just to find out what they looked like.
Still castigating herself, Kim turned down the crooked lane that led to the Dog and Bull. Here the traffic was less, and she made better time. When she saw the cracked sign with its garish painting, she broke into a run, and a moment later she was inside. She stepped to one side of the door and paused, panting, to survey the room.
It was a moment before her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Though the single window was large, half or more of its panes had been broken and stuffed with paper, and those that remained were dark with dirt. What light there was came from the fire in the huge, blackened hearth, and it did not penetrate far into the smoke and steam that filled the air.
Three long, bare tables occupied the center of the room. The backless benches on either side were half full of large men in well-worn clothes. Most were hunched over mugs of beer; some were eating with single-minded intensity from an assortment of battered bowls. There was no sign of the toff anywhere.
Kim frowned. Had she missed him, then? There was no way of telling. She decided to take the chance that he, too, was late, and made her way to one of the tables. She squeezed herself into a corner where she could watch the door, ordered a half-pint of ale, and settled in to wait.