The Friday Society

by Adrienne Kress

  * * *

  IT WAS DUSK when Cora arrived at the Hammersmith Cemetery. She’d decided on the District Railway as her means of transportation. After all, it was much faster than taking a cab, and all she had to do was get off at Barons Court and she’d be right around the corner from the graveyard.

  She approached the low wall and the gates, which still hung open, and stepped onto the path. It felt as though she were leaving one world and crossing through a portal into another. Instantly the sounds of the city were extinguished behind her, and all that remained were the creak of branches above her and the occasional flapping wings of a startled bird taking flight.

  Cora knew enough of her city’s history to understand why this would be a cemetery of choice for grave robbers. It was only a few decades old, so there would be fewer layers of human remains to contend with. Furthermore, it was very highly populated, with several burials a day taking place. It also helped that the cemetery was rather isolated from the city, though the land in the area was slowly being developed.

  Coming this far west was unusual for her. Aside from the odd trip with Lord White, she was a Central London kind of girl. Funny thought, that. She’d once been so proud of being an East Ender.

  She thought briefly then of his lordship, wondering whether he was at all concerned about her whereabouts, whether he’d even noticed she had left.

  Another flapping of wings. And then a quiet squawk.

  And then she was attacked.

  Okay, she wasn’t actually being attacked, but when something lands on your shoulder totally unexpectedly, it can feel like an attack. Cora jumped and instinctively made a swipe at her shoulder. Scheherazade flew off for a moment and then landed for a second time. She and Cora made eye contact, and Cora finally surrendered to having the parrot sit there.

  “Death,” whispered the bird.

  “I know,” replied Cora. If her bird was here, then Nellie was, too. But if her bird wasn’t with Nellie, then there was trouble ahead.

  She made her way as quietly as she could through the darkening cemetery and turned onto the wide main path. She stopped and had a good look around. If there was ever a day to test her newly finished goggles, this would be it. Pity she didn’t have them with her.

  Cora noticed the two figures almost entirely hidden in the shadow of the wall. They were lounging, it seemed, leaning against the red brick, having a quiet conversation. Whether or not they had noticed her yet remained to be seen. The good thing about cemeteries was there were plenty of ways to hide yourself.

  In a flash Cora was down on the ground, crawling to the nearest tombstone, the parrot hopping along behind her. As she got close enough to see the features of each of the men, she noticed the open grave next to them. Shovel lying to the side. Freshly dug. Scheherazade made a doglike whimper, and Cora surmised that Nellie was probably down there.

  “What are you doing?” asked a quiet voice.

  Cora turned and looked up as the parrot flew into the air and out of sight. A bald man, no hat on his head, his long black coat undone and a ragged scarf hanging around his neck, watched the bird fly off and then looked down at Cora.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” she asked, standing up and brushing her skirt free of dirt. “I was trying to sneak up on those two men over there, the ones who are standing up now. Clearly you caught me. What are you doing?”

  The man looked at her closely and then glanced over her shoulder. “Mr. Proper, do you know who this is?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t,” replied a thick East End accent. “Mr. Staunch, do you know who it is?”

  “I do not,” said the other man.

  Three tall men standing around her looking confused, and one girl feeling very scared.

  “You think maybe the magic girl knows her?” asked Mr. Proper.

  The bald man seemed to think about it, then nodded. He leaned in close, almost as if he was examining Cora. He took her chin in his hand and twisted her head hard to one side. “This one has good bits, too. Let’s use this one as well.”

  Whatever that meant, Cora was pretty sure it wasn’t something that was likely to turn out well for her. So she punched the man in the jaw. Grabbed from behind, she stomped on a foot, turned, and punched the face that belonged to the foot, knocking the man’s dark glasses clean off.

  “Oh my God,” she said, and stopped mid-windup. She’d expected to be making eye contact with Mr. Proper, but instead she found herself staring into two red lights glowing in the center of a round glass orb where the eyes should have been. Tiny gears inside the orb rotated at that moment to make the light smaller, more focused on her. “What are you?”

  “Men,” said the quiet bald man in her ear. “Normal everyday men.”

  “You don’t seem ordinary,” replied Cora.

  “Well, you lose a leg, you replace it with a peg. You lose an eye, or two . . .”

  Cora glanced at Mr. Staunch, who readjusted his glasses as he noticed her looking at him.

  “Can they see? Can you see?”

  Mr. Proper nodded. “Couldn’t before. Got sick, see, went blind. And Staunch there had a pretty bad fall as a lad. But Dr. Mantis changed that. Gave us each a pair of these. I owe ’im. We both owe ’im.”

  “They don’t see quite like we do. They see using infrared. You heard about that?” asked Dr. Mantis, coming around to face her.

  Cora nodded. Yes, she knew about that, it was key in how she’d developed her special see-in-the-dark goggles. She also knew that with the distraction courtesy of their current conversation, she was free to take a few steps backward.

  “They can see heat or lack of it. It’s a completely different color spectrum to what we’re used to,” continued Dr. Mantis.

  “How do they dig up dead bodies?” Just keep him talking. Besides, it was all pretty fascinating.

  “They can see when it’s cold, just not as bright. Also . . .” He turned and gave Mr. Proper a nod. The fellow retrieved an oddly shaped gun from inside his coat and aimed at the ground just before Cora. Fire shot out in a roar and singed the earth black. “They can warm things up when they need to.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “That ain’t a ladylike thing to say,” said Mr. Staunch.

  Cora produced her pistol and aimed it at him. “I’m no lady.”

  “Whatcha gonna do, then?” asked Mr. Proper. “There’s three of us, one of you. Jus’ fair warnin’.”

  “I’ll just have to incapacitate you one at a time then.”

  “Let me make it a bit easier for you.” At that moment a shovel suddenly appeared from behind Mr. Staunch’s head, and with one swift swipe, he was out cold. Standing in his place was Nellie, covered in dirt, yet somehow totally looking great. Mr. Proper only had a moment to react before Scheherazade landed on his face, pecking at his “eyes.” There was a struggle, until Cora saw the eyes start to spark. Then the red light at their center went out and the whirring sound that accompanied it died. Nellie gave him a good whack with the shovel, too, and he was down for the count as well.

  “Stupid bird! It’ll take me weeks to make a new pair of eyes, and he’ll be utterly useless till then,” said Dr. Mantis, flailing his arms wildly as Scheherazade flew around his head. Cora took aim at the ground right in front of Dr. Mantis and fired. He stumbled backward in shock and Nellie did her shovel thing for a third time.

  “You know, that’s actually rather dangerous. You could give them serious brain damage, even kill them like that,” said Cora as she watched Dr. Mantis fall to the side.

  “They were gonna kill me the second he showed up. And I heard him say he had the same goal in mind for you. I’m not too fussed about brain damage, if I’m honest.”

  Scheherazade chose that moment to land on Nellie’s shoulder, and Nellie gave the parrot a very hearty scratch under the chin.

  “Are you okay, Nellie?” asked Cora, noticing the girl’s expression.

  Nellie shook her head. “No. I’m really not. That was al
l too close. It’s a damn fine thing I’ve got experience gettin’ out of tight situations. You can’t tie me down.”

  “You constantly impress me, Nellie. Come on. Let’s meet up with Michiko.”

  Nellie put down the shovel and came over to her. “We’ll meet up, but that’s it. Count me out.”

  “What do you mean?” Cora felt hollow inside, stunned, and almost . . . a little betrayed.

  “I’m out, Cora. I’m not riskin’ everythin’ for this. I’m done.”

  43

  A Conversation

  A WATCHED KETTLE never boils. So why was Cora staring at it so intently? She needed to fixate her mind on something else, something other than the frustrated thoughts and feelings she was thinking and . . . feeling. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. They had a plan. It was going so well. It was going better than well. Michiko had copied two very intricate maps of the sewer and underground system for them. Had managed to deduce that there was a strong possibility the old Tower Subway was where the Fog was hiding himself and also the means by which he’d managed to get around the city so effortlessly. How clever of her. And, okay, so maybe neither Cora nor Nellie had really helped that much in their outings, but they were both still alive. That was something.

  That was a big something.

  “Thoughtfully making tea, I see.”

  Cora looked up and saw the Magician standing in the doorway of his small kitchen. He was wearing more clothes than he’d worn during their first encounter, a lovely pale gray robe and matching trousers.

  “Yes,” she replied, looking back at the kettle.

  “Our cultures might be different in many ways, but we both understand the importance and pleasure of a good cup of tea.” He moved beside her and reached up into the cupboard, pulling out a very English teapot with purple and blue flowers intricately painted on it. He placed it on the counter. “Why is Nellie so upset?”

  “She didn’t tell you?” She didn’t know why the Magician intimidated her like he did. She wasn’t frightened of him exactly, but he always made her feel a little nervous. And very much her age.

  “I thought it might be the voice in the sky. I have been to many homes this afternoon offering comfort. But she said it was a secret. I respect secrets. But I think maybe . . . Who’s the Japanese girl?”

  “Didn’t you meet her the other day?”

  “No.”

  “Her name is Michiko.”

  The Magician made a sound of recognition. “The girl from the gala. The warrior.”

  Cora nodded. Yes. Exactly. The girl from the gala. The warrior.

  “So, Miss Bell. Can you tell me the secret?”

  It wasn’t meant for sharing. All the experiences they’d had, their plan for today. But it was all crumbling beneath her now. And for some reason she trusted that the Magician wouldn’t reveal their secret. Besides, even if he did, it didn’t really matter anymore.

  So she explained what had happened to them. What they had discussed that afternoon, and their attempt at making a plan. She told him about what had happened to Nellie and that Nellie didn’t want to be a part of it anymore. She didn’t share just how disappointed hearing this had made her feel.

  “You seem sad not to be risking your life to solve this mystery anymore,” said the Magician, sitting down at the table.

  “I am sad. I don’t know why. I’m not particularly fond of risking my life. I just . . . I really believed all three of us together could do this. That we could save the city. Make a real difference.”

  “That makes sense. I, too, think you could save it.”

  “You do?”

  “I think you’re all very gifted, though I don’t know you and the warrior girl very well. I think it is a risk. I think most would tell you not to do it. I know that’s my instinct as well. But I also feel something beyond that instinct. And it says . . . you’re right.”

  “We don’t really have much of a plan,” said Cora, suddenly feeling a need to play devil’s advocate.

  “Then make one.”

  “And what do we do when we find the guy?”

  “It will all depend on the situation. But trust yourself. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because you’ve known what to do all those other times.”

  Cora sighed long and slow. Even if she could do it, she couldn’t do it alone.

  “Can you convince Nellie to come?” she asked him.

  The Magician shook his head.

  “It is not my place. Besides, I would prefer she stay at home. She is safe with me. But she can’t stay with me forever. You can convince her. You can find a way.”

  “Why do you have so much faith in me?”

  “Because it is clear you have a lot of faith in yourself.”

  Well, I’m glad it’s clear to you. It isn’t to me.

  The Magician rose and gave her a comforting smile. “Take care of yourselves. And take care of each other.”

  Cora nodded. She had nothing to say, so she just stared into those dark, kind eyes and was a little mesmerized by them.

  “Miss Bell,” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “The kettle . . . the water has boiled.”

  44

  How to Convince a Stubborn Magician’s Assistant?

  SHE POURED TEA for all three of them and sat down in the chair in the corner. Nellie was still lying facedown on the bed, and Michiko was sitting next to her, gently stroking her hair.

  “How’re you doing?” Cora asked softly.

  Nellie sat bolt upright, making Michiko jump slightly, and stared at Cora indignantly. “How do you think I’m doin’?”

  Cora shook her head. “Nellie, this is crazy. You faced the Fog at the Tower, no problem. You broke into a house in broad daylight. You escaped being bound and gagged and rendered three men unconscious. Exactly what are you afraid of?”

  Nellie scoffed. “It’s one thing to think about dyin’ as a possibility, but to face it? That makes it a wee bit too real. Makes you realize just what a damn fool you’d been up until that moment.”

  “So you’re scared.”

  “Damn straight I am.”

  “Would it help if I said I’m scared, too?”

  Nellie didn’t reply. Instead she crossed her legs, balanced her elbows on them, and cupped her chin in her hands.

  “Don’t you want to follow this through to the end? Don’t you want to complete this task? Damn it, Nellie, don’t you want to save the city?”

  Still nothing, and Michiko just stared at her. Tough audience.

  Cora couldn’t quite believe it. This was not the Nellie she had grown to know over the last week. That girl wasn’t afraid of anything. “Are you seriously saying we couldn’t do this? Truly? Do you honestly not believe we’re capable of going underground, hunting down that horrible Fog person, and bringing him to justice? Because I know we can. And I think you know it, too.”

  And now I’m just going to wait until someone else says something.

  It took a very long pause, but then, finally, Nellie sighed. “It’s not that I don’t see your point, it’s just . . .” She stopped.

  “It’s just what?”

  Cora could see the feeling rushing up inside Nellie, almost as if she were an empty glass being filled with water. It was rising so quickly, ready to overflow any moment. “Did you see what happened?” asked Nellie, gesturing toward the window. Cora saw that her hand was shaking. Just a little. “A whole building exploded! Did you feel it? The whole city shook. I thought it was going to swallow me up whole. And what about the five dead people? Five! And there were almost seven. You and me.

  “We were almost killed. And do you think that we’ll just be takin’ on the Fog alone? I don’t think so. Dr. Mantis and Mr. Staunch, I bet they’ll be off to warn him about us nosing around. And who knows what else? I bet the entire system down there’s booby-trapped, just in case some idiots decide to play hero. It’s one thing to sca
le a building, to perform little magic tricks outside in the real world, but I don’t think I can take on a person like that. I don’t think I want to.”

  “You’re being irrational,” Cora said. “You absolutely can take on a person like this. You already have. And you already took on his henchmen.”

  Nellie stood up abruptly in a flurry of blond and pink. “I don’t think it’s irrational to fear someone with this fella’s power. And even if it is, so what? So what if I’m afraid? Emotions exist for a reason. They protect us from doing stupid, dangerous, life-threatenin’ things. I’ve never had it so good in my life, and I’m not about to lose it all now. Maybe a couple years ago it didn’t matter if I lived or died . . .”

  “Are you saying, knowing what we know, that we should just sit back and do nothing?” Cora couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  “We should let the professionals handle it.”

  “Like who?” Cora stood in frustration. “The police? Your precious Officer Murphy? He’s the most competent of the lot, and he’s at the bottom of the bloody food chain. Or maybe there’s some secret organization that the Queen has, or something. As much as I’d like to think such a thing exists, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t.”

  “Someone else has got to have the skills.”

  “Who? Who exactly?” Cora was pacing now. “Who has ‘the skills,’ as you call it? No one can get out of a tricky spot like you, Nellie; you’re practically a cat, the way you just get in and out of places. As for me, well, I’m probably one of the best organizers and problem solvers there is, considering what Lord White puts me through on a daily basis. Plus, I’ve got a great number of weapons at my disposal. And anyway, who needs my arsenal when we’ve got the greatest weapon of all right there?” She pointed at Michiko.

  “Cora . . .”

  “We’ve already been pursuing this, each of us, in our own way. And somehow we always manage to help each other out. It’s fate. It . . . it has to mean something. Everything is connected. Right?” She turned to Michiko, who nodded, but it wasn’t clear if she was agreeing with Cora or just humoring her. Nellie still didn’t look convinced. Cora sighed and sat down at the foot of the bed. “Haven’t you always wanted to just do something yourself?” she asked, her voice softer. “To make a real difference? Not for anyone else. Not an assignment or a task. Something that you made the decision to do?”