Museum of Thieves

by Lian Tanner

  ‘I saw your sister,’ she whispered.

  She could feel Toadspit staring at her in the darkness. ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘She’s just like you. Of course she’s all right!’

  They crept down another flight. ‘We must be well underground by now,’ whispered Toadspit. ‘It can’t be much further—’

  He froze. Goldie heard something directly below them. Toadspit’s hand gripped hers painfully. The sound came again. It was the faint thrum of a harp string.

  Toadspit jerked his hand out of Goldie’s. ‘Sinew?’ he shouted.

  ‘Great whistling pigs!’ said an astonished voice. ‘Is that Toadspit?’

  A tinderbox scraped. A match flared. And there, just a few steps below them, were half a dozen officers of the militia. Their faces were grim and they stood shoulder to shoulder, as if they would protect whoever was behind them with their lives.

  ‘Here, make way!’ said Sinew. ‘It’s not the Fugleman and his cronies. It’s Toadspit!’

  A long arm forced its way between the officers, followed by an awkward shoulder. And there was Sinew, harp in hand, staring up at Goldie and Toadspit in amazement. Close behind him was the Protector.

  Goldie’s knees sagged with relief. Toadspit jumped down the stairs and threw his arms around Sinew. ‘We thought we’d have to rescue you!’ he said.

  ‘Well, as you can see, we’ve rescued ourselves,’ said Sinew. ‘The Blessed Guardians left a little while ago, when the lights went out. Once there was no one watching us, I made short work of the locks.’

  He looked up at Goldie. ‘Are you both all right?’

  Goldie nodded. ‘They took us to Care, but we escaped.’

  ‘I thought you might.’ Sinew smiled briefly. Then his face became serious again. ‘We can’t hang around here. The Blessed Guardians might come back. And we have to rescue Broo.’

  ‘Goldie’s already done that,’ said Toadspit.

  Sinew blinked. ‘Oh. Good. We’ll go straight to the museum then. There’s no time to waste. The Fugleman must be stopped.’

  ‘We’ve done that too,’ said Goldie.

  Sinew blinked again. Then, slowly, he began to laugh.

  All this time, the officers had been lighting match after match, and whispering to each other and to the Protector. Now the Protector turned to Sinew and said faintly, ‘These are the children you were telling us about?’

  Sinew nodded. There was a crash of breaking glass somewhere far above them. The Protector’s head jerked up. ‘What was that?’

  ‘It’s the storm,’ said Goldie. ‘You know the soldiers behind the Dirty Gate? The Fugleman was promising them slaves and silver if they’d invade Jewel and make him dictator—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You should’ve seen them,’ said Toadspit. ‘There were hundreds of them, with muskets and pikes and drums! All marching towards the Dirty Gate!’

  ‘They had Olga Ciavolga’s kerchief so we stole it—’

  ‘You stole it,’ said Toadspit.

  ‘You threw the mud at the officer.’

  ‘Yes, but it was your idea. And it worked brilliantly, Sinew. Splat! All over his fancy coat.’

  ‘That’s why they were going to kill Toadspit,’ said Goldie.

  Sinew looked horrified. ‘They were going to kill you, Toadspit?’

  ‘Stab me in the guts with a sword! But Goldie saved me. She undid one of the knots in the kerchief just in time—’

  ‘—and released the Great Wind,’ said Goldie.

  Sinew nodded slowly. ‘That would reduce the pressure nicely. So. The rooms behind the Dirty Gate calmed down?’

  ‘Straight away,’ said Goldie. ‘As soon as I undid the knot.’

  ‘Good,’ said Sinew with great satisfaction. ‘Let’s hope they stay calm—’

  Goldie interrupted him. ‘But now the Great Wind’s loose in the city!’

  She stopped, watching Sinew’s face for a sign that she had done the wrong thing. But Sinew merely said, ‘We can deal with the Great Wind far more easily than an invading army or an outbreak of plague. You did well, both of you. No one could have done better.’

  The Protector and the officers began to hurry up the stairs. Goldie and Toadspit didn’t move. ‘Ma and Pa are in here somewhere,’ said Goldie. ‘And Toadspit’s parents too, and some boys from Care. We have to find them.’

  ‘Blow me down,’ said Sinew. ‘How could I have forgotten? Here, I’ll go and look for them. You go with the Protector. She’ll have more questions for you.’

  Goldie hesitated.

  ‘Don’t fret,’ said Sinew. ‘I’ll have them out of their cells in a trice.’ He waggled his fingers and grinned. ‘There’s not a lock that can stop me. But I’ll need a light of some sort.’

  ‘Here,’ said one of the officers, and he kicked at the wooden banister until several uprights came loose. He tore his shirt into strips, wrapped them around the uprights, and lit them. Sinew slipped away with a makeshift torch in his hand.

  Goldie wanted to follow him, but the Protector and the officers were already throwing questions at her, so she bit her lip and told herself to be patient for a little while longer. When the officers heard that many of their fellow militiamen were dead, they shook their heads gravely.

  ‘And the Fugleman?’ said the Protector. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘In the city somewhere,’ said Goldie. ‘He and Guardian Hope were chasing us, but we lost them.’

  The Protector looked sharply at the officers. ‘They’re to be arrested on sight. Particularly the Fugleman. He’s not going to get away with this.’

  They were nearly at the top of the stairs by then, and the noise of the storm was back full force. The groaning sound was louder than ever.

  ‘That’s the levees!’ The Protector had to shout now. ‘They won’t hold against this. And if they go, the whole of the Old Quarter will flood. We have to get people to higher ground.’

  ‘Don’t forget Care,’ shouted Toadspit. ‘My sister’s there.’

  ‘Care is at the top of my list.’ The Protector’s face was grim.

  ‘We’ll have to clear this place before we go,’ shouted one of the officers. ‘We can’t leave folk in their cells to drown. I’ll see if I can find some keys and give Sinew a hand.’ And he took a torch and hurried away.

  The next few minutes were a bustle of planning. Goldie and Toadspit found themselves edged out of the group as the remaining adults argued about the safest place to take people.

  ‘Take them to the museum,’ shouted Goldie. ‘It should be quiet by now.’

  No one heard her. She pushed between two of the officers and shouted again. ‘The museum! They’ll be safe there!’

  The Protector and the officers stared at her for a moment, then nodded to each other and elbowed her out of the way again. ‘We’ll have to split up and divide the Old Quarter between us,’ shouted the Protector. ‘We won’t get everyone out in time otherwise.’

  ‘Idiots,’ hissed Toadspit in Goldie’s ear. ‘They’re going to need us.’

  Goldie heard a weak cry from the direction of the staircase, and turned to look. A small group of people were stumbling towards her, hanging onto each other for support. Sinew’s torch lit their faces.

  Goldie’s heart almost jumped out of her throat. ‘Ma!’ she screamed. ‘Pa!’ Beside her, Toadspit’s voice echoed hers. ‘Ma! Pa!’

  .

  t was a while before things calmed down. Goldie clung to Ma and Pa and cried bitter tears. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to get you locked up!’ She could hear Toadspit saying almost the same thing nearby.

  ‘We’re perfectly all right,’ said Pa, cuddling her tightly. ‘A little hungry, that’s all.’

  ‘But sweeting, look at your poor arms!’ said Ma. ‘Is that a scratch? Are you hurt? Oh, let me see!’

  She exclaimed over each one of Goldie’s bruises and cuts, and inspected her for signs of fever. Around them, other prisoners were being
brought up the stairs with cries of thankfulness and a spattering of song, ‘Three yea-a-a-a-ars I rowed the galley-y-y-ys—’

  By now, Sinew was pacing up and down, his face anxious. ‘We can’t linger here!’ he shouted. ‘We must get the weakest of the prisoners directly up to the museum. Here, you boys, I’ll need your help.’

  The Protector hurried over. ‘Several of the officers are going to Care. One of the boys must accompany them, to show them where the dormitories are.’

  Goldie leaned back in Pa’s arms. It seemed like forever since she had slept, and her whole body ached with tiredness. But there’s still so much to do.

  Toadspit’s pa raised a trembling hand. He was terribly thin, and had to hold on to his son’s shoulder for support. ‘I’ll go with them! Our daughter is in Care.’

  The Protector shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Herro—?’

  ‘Hahn. Striver Hahn. And this is my wife, Mollify.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Herro Hahn, you’d slow them down too much. You and your wife had best go straight to the museum. Don’t worry, the officers will find your daughter and bring her to you.’ She turned back to Sinew. ‘We have divided the Old Quarter between us. We must set about this business straightaway. The sound from the levees is worsening and I’m not sure that there are enough of us to reach all the households in time.’

  ‘I’ll help!’ Toadspit shouted.

  ‘No!’ cried his ma. ‘You’re coming with us. We’ll keep you safe.’

  ‘But they need me!’

  One of the officers shook his head. ‘We can’t send children out by themselves.’

  Toadspit scowled. ‘What do you think we’ve been doing all this time? We’re not babies!’

  Above Goldie’s head, the roof rattled like a mad thing. ‘I’ll help too!’ she cried.

  ‘No!’ said Ma. ‘It’s much too dangerous!’

  ‘She’s right. I forbid it!’ shouted the Protector.

  Sinew laughed and whacked the Protector on the back in a friendly fashion. ‘Forbid it all you like! I swear they’ll go anyway, the minute you take your eyes off them! And besides, we need them. They’re quick and they’re clever. We won’t get the area cleared without them.’

  ‘But— But who will listen to them?’ stammered one of the officers. ‘Who will listen to a child telling them to leave their home?’

  Sinew winked at Goldie. ‘You might be surprised! The world we knew has changed tonight. The wildness is well and truly back in the city!’

  As soon as Goldie stepped outside the House of Repentance, the wind hit her. Rain lashed at her face and the darkness wrapped itself around her so that she lost sight of the others almost immediately. The only landmark she could see was the Great Hall, its dome shining dimly through the storm.

  She struggled along the footpath, fighting the wind every inch of the way. The groaning of the levees was getting louder. She crossed Trunkboat Bridge and staggered up Temple Canal to the area that the officers had assigned her.

  At the first house, a man with a lantern answered her frantic knocking. He peered at Goldie through a narrow gap in the door, his face white and frightened.

  ‘The levees are going to break, Herro!’ shouted Goldie. ‘You must come with me!’

  The man’s eyes widened. ‘Goldie Roth? Is that you?’

  ‘Herro Oster!’

  It was indeed Jube’s father. Goldie had been so disoriented by the storm that she hadn’t recognised the house.

  Now Frow Oster pushed past her husband, crying, ‘Goldie Roth? It can’t be! Oh, my dear, your poor parents! We tried to help them, but the Blessed Guardians—’

  ‘You can’t come in,’ interrupted Herro Oster gruffly. ‘We can’t take the risk.’

  ‘But where have you been?’ cried Frow Oster. ‘We thought you must be dead!’

  ‘There’s no time to explain!’ shouted Goldie. ‘You have to come with me! I’ll take you somewhere safe!’

  Herro Oster’s face turned even whiter. ‘Go with a runaway? The Blessed Guardians would eat us for breakfast!’

  ‘Besides, it’s too dangerous,’ shouted Frow Oster. ‘We’ll be safer here.’

  ‘No, you won’t! The Old Quarter is going to flood! You have to come! Orders of the Protector!’

  Herro Oster shook his head and began to close the door. Behind him someone said, ‘What’s happening, Pa?’

  ‘Go back in the house, Jubilation,’ snapped Herro Oster. But he was too late.

  ‘Goldie?’ said Jube, ducking under his father’s arm. ‘Where have you been? What are you doing here? Are you on your own?’

  ‘Now see what you’ve done!’ shouted Herro Oster angrily.

  ‘Listen, Herro!’ said Goldie. ‘Listen to the storm! If you stay here, you’ll drown!’

  There was a crash of breaking windows. Herro Oster’s anger seemed to drain away and he began to tremble. Like everyone else in Jewel, he had been protected from every sort of risk and danger when he was a child. There had been nothing to test his courage, nothing to teach him when to stand and when to run. Now he was paralysed with fear and indecision, and so was Frow Oster. They were afraid to stay where they were, and they were afraid to go.

  But Sinew was right. Some of the wildness had come back into the city. As Herro Oster tried to shut the door, Jube slipped through the narrow gap. Goldie grabbed his hand and the two of them ran out into the street.

  By the time his parents ran after him, Jube was standing, amazed, in the midst of howling chaos. ‘Look, Pa!’ he shouted. ‘Look at our house!’

  Herro and Frow Oster stared. The walls of their house were bulging in and out like an animal gasping for breath. It was clear that they must seek safety elsewhere, or be lost.

  Frow Oster pointed towards the Great Hall. ‘The lights are still on! We’ll be safe there!’

  Goldie shook her head. ‘No. We have to get to higher ground.’

  Jube was shivering, but he nodded agreement. His parents looked at him in astonishment, then, slowly, they too nodded.

  Goldie dragged them to the next house, and then to an apartment, and then to another house. ‘Hurry! Hurry!’ she shouted to the frightened faces that peered out at her. ‘The levees are going to break!’

  Each time, it was the children who slipped out into the raging darkness first. Their parents followed close behind, trying to fasten guardchains to their sons’ and daughters’ wrists. But it would take more than a silver chain to keep them safe on a night like this.

  Goldie found Plum and Glory and their families, and they gaped at her, then followed where she led. She found Fort and a score of other children, and they went with her, and so did their parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles.

  She was no longer the only one knocking on doors. The children who had managed to evade their guardchains ran awkwardly from house to house, shouting, ‘Hurry, hurry, there’s not much time, hurry!’ until the frightened people inside tumbled out into the night.

  At last they came to Goldie’s own street. As the wind and the rain raged around her, and garbage cans and fence palings and branches flew down the street past her head, Goldie pounded on Favour’s door.

  ‘Favour!’ she shouted, trying to make herself heard over the storm. ‘Herro Berg! Frow Berg! It’s me!’

  When Herro Berg opened the door at last, he stared at Goldie as if she was an apparition. ‘G-G-Goldie!’

  There was a cry from inside the house, and Favour and Frow Berg came running. Favour threw her arms around Goldie and kissed her. But there was no time to talk. Everyone was shouting, ‘Hurry, hurry!’ and the sense of urgency was impossible to resist.

  By now, Goldie was so exhausted she could hardly stand. She stumbled forward, dragging adults and children behind her like a huge, frightened caterpillar. She wanted to rest, but the groaning of the levees drove her on. Hurry! Hurry!

  And then she turned a corner and ran smack bang into Toadspit. He was soaking wet and there was a cut on his forehead. Stretched out behin
d him in the darkness was a long line of people.

  When he saw Goldie, he put his mouth to her ear and shouted, ‘I just spoke to one of the officers! They’ve got everyone out of Care, and the rest of the Old Quarter’s clear as well! We’re going to the museum! Come on!’

  It seemed impossible that the storm could get worse. But as Goldie and Toadspit and their followers struggled towards Old Arsenal Hill, the wind began to scream even louder. The rain tore at them, as if the soldiers from behind the Dirty Gate had invaded after all and were attacking them head on. Goldie blundered along in a nightmare. Across Pestilence Bridge. Past militia headquarters. Towards the safety of the museum.

  They were just about to step onto Old Arsenal Bridge when a small figure hurtled out of the darkness towards Toadspit. He flinched, but then his face lit up like a hundred suns and he held out his arms. ‘Bonnie!’

  ‘Toadspit!’ screamed Bonnie. ‘Toadspit Toadspit Toadspit!’ She threw herself at her brother, laughing and crying. Rain and tears streamed down Toadspit’s face. Ignoring the storm and the sound of the levees, he wrapped his arms around his little sister and held her tight. The rest of the children from Care surged past, herded by anxious militiamen.

  ‘Bonnie! Toadspit!’ shouted Goldie. ‘We have to go!’

  They hurried across the bridge with the long line of people straggling after them, and began to climb the hill. They had not gone far when Goldie heard a sound that stopped her in her tracks. Metal tore against metal. The groaning of the levees rose to a shriek.

  Toadspit grabbed hold of Bonnie. ‘Run!’ he shouted, and pushed her towards higher ground. Then he and Goldie turned to the people behind them and screamed at the top of their voices, ‘It’s the levees! Run! Run for your lives!’

  Their words were snatched away by the wind. It didn’t matter. Everyone knew what the sound meant. But they could not move. They stood helplessly, clutching their families. The terrible night had finally taken its toll.

  Goldie and Toadspit raced down the lines, tugging at people’s clothes and screaming, ‘Run! Run!’ Bonnie followed them. ‘Run!’ she shouted.

  ‘Bonnie, get out of here!’ screamed Toadspit. But Bonnie ignored him. ‘Run! Everyone run!’