Read Online Fever Crumb by Philip Reeve - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Philip Reeve
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work."
"Yes, sir," said Fever, lowering her head.
"You're still worried about what happened yesterday," said Kit kindly. "I'm not surprised. But Summertown is not the Straggle-market, and you'll be with us, not on your own. Anyway, everyone will have forgotten you by now."
But Fever was not sure about that. As she left the house an hour later (for it took an extraordinarily long time for Kit Solent and his children to get ready) she noticed two figures standing on the opposite pavement. A ragged boy and an old man in a long black coat and a black bowler hat. They did not do anything, they did not try to accost her; indeed, they drew back shyly into the shadows of an alley as Kit Solent let her out through the gates, and she knew that he had not seen them, but she could sense their eyes on her as she followed him along the street. It made her uneasy, and she did not know why.
***
From the far side of the street, Charley Shallow watched the girl go by. She strode along mannishly at the gentleman's side, with her hat in her hand and her bald head bared for all to see. She looked human enough to him, and pretty, almost. He glanced at Bagman, hoping for some clue as to how he should react.
"I can't see no speckles on her, Master Creech...."
"No, boy."
"So does that mean she's a human being after all?" Charley tried not to sound disappointed. He was half relieved that Bagman wouldn't have to kill the girl, but at the same time he found himself thinking that if Bagman had no prey to hunt he might not need a 'prentice anymore.
"I'm not sure," said Bagman. "There were some Scriven who didn't have many markings. A few had no markings on their faces at all. Blanks, we called 'em. I remember cornering a female like that once, and she held a baby that might have passed for human."
Charley waited for him to say more, but the old man fell silent. He started to realize what a terrible responsibility it was to be a Skinner.
Bagman had turned away, watching as the man and the children and the girl went on up the street, climbing toward Cripple-gate. When they were out of sight he shook his head and gave a few soft, doubtful coughs. "Strangest thing," he said quietly, perhaps to himself. "Always before I could tell at a glance. Even if I couldn't see no markings I could always tell a Scriven by the way they held themselves, the way they moved. But this one ... I ain't sure."
"So what do we do, Master Creech?"
"We follows her, boy, and we gets a closer look."
***
It was startling to come out of the quiet streets into the bustle of Cripplegate. Fever had expected Kit Solent to turn uphill toward the wind tram Terminus, but instead he simply stepped out into the mud of the roadway and raised one hand, and at once a sedan chair swerved toward him out of the passing scrum of drays, chairs, and pedestrians. He pulled the door open before it had even stopped, the children bundled inside, and as Fever scrambled after them, she heard him call out to the bearers, "Summertown!"
The men did not reply, simply started trotting, turning off Cripplegate as soon as they could and cutting westward through the complicated little streets of Pimlicker and Chel's See. Several times, through gaps between the buildings, Fever caught a glimpse of Godshawk's Head, picked out from the clutter of rooftops and chimneys farther north by stray beams of sunlight.
"Would you like to stop in at home on the way?" asked Kit Solent, noticing how she craned her head to keep it in sight.
"Godshawk's Head is not on the way to Clerkenwell."
"We could make a detour. I thought you might want to look in on Dr. Crumb, and let him know that you are all right."
Fever wanted nothing more, but from across the city
Godshawk's steel face seemed to be staring sternly at her, reminding her that she must be rational and not let down her Order. She said, "There would be no purpose in such a visit. I'm sure Dr. Crumb knows that you would contact the Order if there were any
"Yes, sir," said Fever, lowering her head.
"You're still worried about what happened yesterday," said Kit kindly. "I'm not surprised. But Summertown is not the Straggle-market, and you'll be with us, not on your own. Anyway, everyone will have forgotten you by now."
But Fever was not sure about that. As she left the house an hour later (for it took an extraordinarily long time for Kit Solent and his children to get ready) she noticed two figures standing on the opposite pavement. A ragged boy and an old man in a long black coat and a black bowler hat. They did not do anything, they did not try to accost her; indeed, they drew back shyly into the shadows of an alley as Kit Solent let her out through the gates, and she knew that he had not seen them, but she could sense their eyes on her as she followed him along the street. It made her uneasy, and she did not know why.
***
From the far side of the street, Charley Shallow watched the girl go by. She strode along mannishly at the gentleman's side, with her hat in her hand and her bald head bared for all to see. She looked human enough to him, and pretty, almost. He glanced at Bagman, hoping for some clue as to how he should react.
"I can't see no speckles on her, Master Creech...."
"No, boy."
"So does that mean she's a human being after all?" Charley tried not to sound disappointed. He was half relieved that Bagman wouldn't have to kill the girl, but at the same time he found himself thinking that if Bagman had no prey to hunt he might not need a 'prentice anymore.
"I'm not sure," said Bagman. "There were some Scriven who didn't have many markings. A few had no markings on their faces at all. Blanks, we called 'em. I remember cornering a female like that once, and she held a baby that might have passed for human."
Charley waited for him to say more, but the old man fell silent. He started to realize what a terrible responsibility it was to be a Skinner.
Bagman had turned away, watching as the man and the children and the girl went on up the street, climbing toward Cripple-gate. When they were out of sight he shook his head and gave a few soft, doubtful coughs. "Strangest thing," he said quietly, perhaps to himself. "Always before I could tell at a glance. Even if I couldn't see no markings I could always tell a Scriven by the way they held themselves, the way they moved. But this one ... I ain't sure."
"So what do we do, Master Creech?"
"We follows her, boy, and we gets a closer look."
***
It was startling to come out of the quiet streets into the bustle of Cripplegate. Fever had expected Kit Solent to turn uphill toward the wind tram Terminus, but instead he simply stepped out into the mud of the roadway and raised one hand, and at once a sedan chair swerved toward him out of the passing scrum of drays, chairs, and pedestrians. He pulled the door open before it had even stopped, the children bundled inside, and as Fever scrambled after them, she heard him call out to the bearers, "Summertown!"
The men did not reply, simply started trotting, turning off Cripplegate as soon as they could and cutting westward through the complicated little streets of Pimlicker and Chel's See. Several times, through gaps between the buildings, Fever caught a glimpse of Godshawk's Head, picked out from the clutter of rooftops and chimneys farther north by stray beams of sunlight.
"Would you like to stop in at home on the way?" asked Kit Solent, noticing how she craned her head to keep it in sight.
"Godshawk's Head is not on the way to Clerkenwell."
"We could make a detour. I thought you might want to look in on Dr. Crumb, and let him know that you are all right."
Fever wanted nothing more, but from across the city
Godshawk's steel face seemed to be staring sternly at her, reminding her that she must be rational and not let down her Order. She said, "There would be no purpose in such a visit. I'm sure Dr. Crumb knows that you would contact the Order if there were any
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