The Stolen Child (28 page)

Sneaking out had been easy, in the end.  With most of the crew out around the town, it had only been the professor and the captain left on the ship.  From the stairwell that lead up to the bridge they had heard the sound of the door to the captain's ready room closing, the men's voices suddenly muted.  After that there was nothing to stop them as they darted across the docks and disappeared between the high walls of the warehouses, making their way deeper into the town.
 

Moving along the market stalls, Rachael
stared in
bewilder
ment at
the
items for sale.  
Stalls filled with
cutlery, tools, clothes, boots and shoes, nets, ropes, pocket knives, and thousands of other
everyday objects that still seemed strangely different.  At the same time, there was something curiously familiar about it all, like a distorted version of the open air markets in London.
 

Eventually they took shelter from the crowds in a small café, where Arsha bought them both coffee and ice-cream.

“How do they keep it cold?” Rachael asked, poking at hers, thoughtfully.

“
They have
a cold-
room,” Arsha said, as if the answer should have been obvious.
 

“A cold
room
?”

Arsha shrugged.

“It keeps things cold.”

“Well... Yea
h,
” Rachael said, making a face.  “But how?”

Arsha wrinkled her nose, apparently struggling to recall the answer.
 

“Uh... Thaumic manipulation through etheric transference?”
she said at last.
 

“And that means...?”

“Honestly?  I
really don't know
,” Arsha said, with an embarrassed smile.  Rachael
laughed
.

“Jeez.  There's just so much... stuff, you know?  Everything's different,”
she said.
 

“I think I'd do worse trying to survive in London,” Arsha
replied
.

“I dunno.  I guess, it's different, but it's the same, y'know?  Like, it's all so strange, that it just makes it even more surprising when I actually recognise something.  Like, I just figured when we walked into the café that you'd order some...
schnozzberry
juice, or something.  Not coffee.”

“Well... it's not really coffee, like you
have
.  I mean, it tastes the same, but we make it out of a kind of animal droppings,” Arsha said.  “See, there's this beetle, and it...”

For a moment Rachael's eyes flicked down to her coffee.  Then she looked back up at Arsha, whose deadpan expression was already cracking.

“Ass!” Rachael muttered, flicking some ice-cream at her as the girl burst out laughing.  Then Arsha flicked a small blob back and Rachael yelped as it splattered across her nose.  There was coughing sound, and they both turned to see the woman behind the counter giving them a disapproving glare.

Having narrowly avoided
getting kicked out of the café, the girls headed back out into the bustling street.  They investigated a few more stalls,
and Arsha helped her to pick out some new clothes to add to the hand-me-downs from her own wardrobe.  Between her new purchases, and what she'd packed before leaving the ship, her backpack was bulging by the time they were done.
 

They were just finishing up at the last stall when Arsha suddenly tugged at Rachael's sleeve with a nervous expression.  Turning, she caught sight of the tall figure in a tan coat moving through the crowd.  Micah.
 

“
What do we do?” Arsha hissed.
 

“
Hide,” Rachael replied.  “Come on.”
 

She lead Arsha past the stall, weaving through the vendors and quickly slipping out of Micah's sight.  Soon they found themselves in one of the narrow alleyways that branched off from the square.  It was quieter there, only a little light squeezing down between the tall buildings as the crowds bustled past the mouth of the alleyway.
 

“
The others will be out looking for us as well, I bet,” Arsha said, a little breathless.
 

“
Likely, yeah,” Rachael said, betraying little sign of concern as she continued down the alleyway.  Arsha followed her, seeming nervous, but curious.  
It wasn't long before Rachael found a stack of crates and barrels under a sloped roof.  
S
he scrambled up, catching the edge of the rooftop and hauling herself
over
.
 

“Hey, what are you doing?”
Arsha hissed.
 

“Exploring,” Rachael said with a shrug.  “Come on.”

Arsha turned to look back at the crowds in the square.  Then she looked up at where Rachael was perched on the edge of the roof.  She could see the conflict in the girl's expression.  The nervousness in her eyes, as she threw darting glances back towards the streets, where Micah would be waiting to take them back to the ship.  For a moment, Rachael considered simply leaving the girl there, or suggesting that she head back.  She knew it would be easier, but something inside her seemed to rebel at the thought.  It was strange how much she'd grown to like having the girl around.  As Arsha's eyes met hers, Rachael held out her hand and smiled.
 

For a moment Arsha stared at her, nervous excitement written clearly on her face.  Then, all of a sudden, the girl scrambled up onto the crates and took her hand
.  Rachael
helped her
onto the roof, and the two of them began to make their way over the slates, feeling loose tiles shift under their heels and trusting against all reason that their next step wouldn't send them tumbling into the street below.  
Soon they were picking up speed, and as Rachael vaulted over a narrow alleyway, Arsha seemed to follow without hesitation.  Butterflies sang in her stomach as sailed over a cobblestone street, rubber soles skidding on the tiles.  She turned just as Arsha landed, her feet only barely catching the edge.  For a moment the girl flailed, arms pinwheeling, before Rachael caught ahold of her.
 

“
You OK?” Rachael said.  In her excitement, it took her a moment to realise that Arsha was laughing.
 

As Arsha grinned foolishly at her, Rachael felt an answering
smile on her own lips.  Soon they were flying over the rooftops, slipping down into alleyways and scrambling up rusted drainpipes.  Arsha was an eager student, as Rachael showed her what lines to follow, where to look for handholds, and where it was safe to step.  They began to vault larger gaps and seek out taller buildings to scale, roaming far from the centre of the town as they continued to explore.
 

Eventually they began to tire.  P
erched on a rooftop on the outskirts of town, they lay back and caught the mid-afternoon sun.  
Patchy clouds drifted past, occasionally
shielding them from the sun.  T
he river rumbled on through its cutting, heavy and low, like a distant train passing.

Rachael opened her bag and pulled out her sketchbook.  
With a few quick strokes, she let the shape of the skyline play out across the page.  Curious, Arsha leaned over to look.
 

“You're really good,”
she
said.  “You must have practi
s
ed loads.”

“I guess.”  
Rachael shrugged.
  “It was just something to do, y'know?”

Arsha nodded, and for a while they just sat in silence, as Rachael sketched.
 

“So what do you think?  About the other stuff my dad was saying?” Arsha said
at last.  “You know... About you living with us.”
 

Rachael shrugged,
eyes still focused on the page in front of her.
 

“I dunno.  I mean...
What am I supposed to think
?  
How's
anyone know when this is all going to be over?  And after that...
”

Her voice trailed off, leaving only the sound of her pencil tapping against the page.
 

“
It's just… I've been talking to him about going away to the Guildhall.  It's like a, you know, a boarding school.  So I can get ready for University.  He said that if things settle down by then, he'd be OK with paying for you to go as well, if you wanted to
.”

Rachael turned to look out over the streets as Arsha spoke, her voice nervous and soft.
 

“
I just thought it'd be nice,
having someone I know there,”
Arsha said.
 

“Know?”
Rachael said, unable to keep the incredulity from her voice.
  “You've known me a week.  
I spent most of the first day unconscious.
”

“So I know you don't snore too much,” Arsha said
with an awkward smile.
  “They put you in shared rooms at the Guildhall, that's really important.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Rachael still found herself smiling as Arsha grinned foolishly at her.
 

“Honestly,”
Arsha continued,
“I'd just kind of figured I wouldn't know anyone, and... And I'd probably just be too weird for people or something, and it'd be awful.  So, at least if you were there, we'd both be
weird together o
r something.”

There was an awkward silence, as Arsha waited for her to say something.  It was hard to know what to say, especially knowing what she was about to do.  She couldn't escape the feeling that
she owed the girl some kind of explanation, even though it was hard to pin down why she felt she owed Arsha anything at all.
 

“Honestly,” Rachael said, “I
never really thought
about
my life
having
things like boarding schools and stuff
.”

“Yeah.  It's kind of scary, isn't it,” Arsha said.

“It's not that,” Rachael said,
turning to look over the horizon again, a nervous pit slowly forming in her stomach
.  “
You talk about the future like it's your whole life.  You know, getting educated, getting a job, all them things that... You just don't understand.  It's not like that for me.  When I think about what's next, all I'm thinking is 'How do I make it through today?'  Because tomorrow, I'll be thinking the same.  That's all I got now.”
 

“
But it doesn't have to be,” Arsha said.
 

“
You're saying that l
ike I made a choice, or something.  Like
I wanted my life to be this way,” Rachael
snarled
.  “
God, I know you mean well by it, but you're talking about us going off to some fancy school together and being bestest friends forever and it's like you're speaking Martian.  Arsh, you're nice.  I do like you.  But I'm not sticking around.  You gotta understand that.”
 

It was clear from the girl's nervous expression that Arsha still hadn't grasped her meaning.
 

“
Well, even if it's only for a few years...”
 

Rachael said nothing.  She knew she was running out of ways to avoid saying what she needed to say.  Slowly she began to pack away her sketchbook and pencils.
 

“
We really should get back.  Dad's gonna be furious by now,”
Arsha said.
 

“
Yeah, I know.  I'm sorry about that.  You can tell him it was my fault when you see him, OK?” Rachael nodded as she shouldered her backpack and got to her feet.  As Arsha turned to look at her, it was clear that she'd finally caught what was happening.
 

“
You're not coming back.  You planned this, the whole time,” she said.  Rachael fought back the urge to laugh.
 

“
I didn't plan nothing.  It's just.. I take the chances that I get, you know?  It's the only way I made it this far and all.  Only way I know how.  It weren't your fault or nothing.  You seem like a really nice person, really.  I think... I think we might have been good mates, if things hadn't been... You know...”
 

For a moment Arsha just watched her in nervous silence.  She almost wished the girl would look away.  It seemed like that would easier.
 

“
If... If you're planning on taking one of the ships, you should probably go for the one on the farthest dock,” Arsha said, quietly.  “They're Arvingian, they usually don't mind taking on travellers and such, if you're willing to work.”
 

“
For real?” Rachael said, feeling surprised and grateful.
 

Arsha nodded, and lowered her eyes, staring down into the streets below.  Slowly, the girl pulled her knees up in front of herself.  Though she had to get moving, Rachael found herself watching Arsha's miserable expression, wishing there was something she could do about it.
 

“
Thanks,” she said, softly.  “Are you sure you'll be OK?  Facing up to your old man I mean.”
 

“
Yeah, I'll be fine.  Besides, he's my dad.  I kinda... I feel really bad that I made him worry, y'know?” Arsha said.
 

“
I dunno,” Rachael said, checking the straps on her backpack once more.  “Doesn't seem fair that you should get in trouble just 'cause I made you sneak out.”
 

“
Well it's not like you forced me.  Besides, I really did have a lot of fun today,” Arsha said, forcing a smile.  Once again Rachael reminded herself that she needed to get moving.  Once again, something about the girl's eyes seemed to pull her back.
 

“
You really meant all that, didn't you, about going off to school together and all?”
 

Arsha nodded.
 

“
If you wanted to stay.  My dad really did mean it too, about wanting you to be part of our family.  I know it's not really much of a family, but…”