“It’s Turner,” she said hoarsely. “It’s Danvers’ butler! He must have followed us! Do you think he saw the golden wings?”
Fervent shook his head. “I don’t think so. He wasn’t at the bar when I came out of the kitchen. He must have been outside, waiting for a crowd to come in so he could slip by unnoticed.”
“What are we going to do?” Charley asked. “If he and Danvers are spies for Thursby…”
“Is there a back way out of here?” Luciana asked Fervent.
Fervent shrugged. “There’s the kitchen entrance. It leads to the stable courtyard. But if you both follow me into the kitchen what’s-his-name over there will know something’s afoot.”
“We’ll have to split up,” Luciana decided. “Timothy, you go back to the kitchen. In a few minutes I’ll pretend to get up to powder my nose but come into the kitchen instead. Charley, you go out the front. Turner will have to decide who to follow. While he’s deciding, we can get away.”
“And go where?” Charley asked. “Please say we’re going back to the station. Please say we’re going home.”
Luciana pressed her lips together. “Let’s talk about that once we’re out of here, shall we?” She looked at Fervent. “When you’re ready.”
Timothy Fervent nodded. He leaned back in his chair, looked at his watch and tapped it once. “Better be getting back to the pots and pans,” he said.
Then he got up and walked away.
“Run,” Luciana hissed, when she saw Charley waiting for her a little way down the street. “Run!”
Luciana glanced behind her to see if Turner was following as they fled, but couldn’t see him. Eventually they found themselves in a narrow alleyway that led down to the river and stopped to catch their breath.
“Right,” said Charley, once he could speak again. “Let’s head back to the station.”
“We can’t go back now!” Luciana said. “If we do it’ll all be over. Danvers and Turner are spies for Thursby, and I showed one of the wings to Danvers, so Thursby will soon know that we’ve found the Golden Butterfly, if he doesn’t know already! If Thursby turns up at the house again…”
“I thought you said your grandmother told him he’d never be let back in after last time?” Charley asked. “Anyway, you could hide both in the desk. They’d never find them there.”
“They would,” Luciana cried, “I told Danvers that we’d found the first piece in Grandfather’s study, didn’t I? He’ll tear it apart to find the Golden Butterfly! I can’t go back. Not yet. If they find it now it’ll be all my fault! You go home. Tell my grandmother I’m all right. I’ll find somewhere to stay tonight. I could go back to the Peacock Theatre. I’m sure Mr Hibberd would let me sleep in Grandfather’s old dressing room.”
Charley stared at her. “What kind of friend would leave you here alone? If you won’t come home, I’m going to have to stay too. And if I’m going to stay, then there had better be a pretty good reason for me making my mother worry. So we’d better come up with a plan. All right?”
Luciana bit her lip and looked at him. “I do have a plan. Sort of. What we need is someone to tell us what these devices are. Right?”
“I thought we’d decided the person to do that was Adeline Morrell? We don’t know where she is.”
“No, we don’t,” Luciana agreed. “But my grandfather must have had a reason to hide them so well. He must have thought that someone else could work out how to use them if they were found, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered, would he?”
“That makes sense,” said Charley.
“Right. So we need another magician. One we can trust not to just hand us and the devices over to Thursby.”
“But we don’t know any other magicians!”
“We’ve seen one though, haven’t we? A really good one too. Adolphus Merritt.”
Charley frowned. “Why would he help us? He doesn’t know us. We’ve never even met him.”
Luciana shouldered her cloth bag with a small but triumphant smile. “Because I noticed something that night that no one else did.”
*
Weston’s stage door was large and black with shining paint that looked quite new. Charley pulled the bell-rope that hung beside it and they waited, listening to the hubbub from the street.
“We’re here to see Adolphus Merritt’s assistant,” Luciana told the boy who opened the door.
“No visitors before the performance,” said the child smartly, pushing the door shut again.
Luciana put the toe of her boot in the gap before it could close. “She’ll make an exception for me,” she said quietly. “Go and tell her that someone’s looking for the woman who can do magic as well as her master. I want to talk to her. Before I talk to … anyone else.”
The boy gave her a blank look, but also added a curt nod. “Clara,” he said. “That’s who you mean. I’ll get her.”
Luciana removed her foot and he shut the door. They listened to his footsteps echo away into the depths of the theatre.
“What are you up to?” Charley asked Luciana, suspiciously. “What was all that about?”
Luciana turned to him. “I told you I had a plan. This is it.”
“I’m not convinced it’s a very good one,” Charley muttered, as they heard two pairs of swift footsteps echoing back towards them.
The stage door was flung open again to reveal the young woman whom Luciana had first seen on stage just last night. She was dressed in a long kimono with a pattern of bright red flowers over black silk. Her dark hair was down around her shoulders and she was clearly furious. The boy lurked behind her.
“Ben, go back to your duties,” Clara told him, and then waited until he’d gone. Then she turned to Luciana and Charley. “Now, what the devil do you two want?”
“Your help,” Luciana told her. “That’s all. We just want your help.”
The woman crossed her arms. “And you think the best way of getting it is by threatening me, do you? You’ve got a grand cheek. Be off with you, before I scream for the police.”
“If you do that, I’ll go to Thursby,” Luciana said, steeling herself. “I swear I will.”
A flicker of something like fear passed through the woman’s eyes, though it was quickly replaced by a glare as hard as flint.
“And what makes you think the master of the Grand Society of Magicians will listen to a word you have to say?”
“Because I know you performed that trick yourself, right in front of an entire audience,” Luciana said. “And even if he doesn’t want to believe it, he’ll watch the show to be sure. He’ll be waiting for it and he’ll see you do it, just like I did. Then where will you – and Adolphus Merritt – be?”
Clara sucked an angry breath through her gritted teeth before pulling the door open wider. “You’ve got five minutes and not a second beyond. I’ve got things to do.”
They followed her along the echoing corridor to her dressing room.
“Women can’t do magic,” Clara said, once the door was shut behind them.
“Yes, they can,” Luciana countered. “They’re just not supposed to. That’s not the same thing. Is it?”
The hard glint in the woman’s eye became something else. For a second Luciana thought she might even smile, but it was gone in an instant. “Who are you?”
“My name is Luciana. Luciana Cattaneo. This is my friend, Charley. My grandfather was the Magnificent Marko.”
At Luciana’s announcement the woman’s face changed completely. Instead of anger, outright panic flashed across her face. She dropped her arms, her mouth slightly agape.
“What are you doing here? How did you find us? Who told you?”
“I – we came to see the performance last night,” Luciana said, confused. “We need someone who knows magic to help us, someone who won’t go straight to Thursby when we show them—”
Luciana’s words were drowned out by a knock at the door that was sharp enough to make them all jump, but Clara most of all. She stepped swi
ftly to the door and opened it just a crack.
“You don’t need to be here,” she said in an urgent whisper to the person beyond. “I can deal with this. Stay away.”
The door was pushed open anyway. The heavy tap of a walking cane thumped against the bare floorboards as the person walked into the room.
Luciana found herself looking into the clear, calm eyes of Adolphus Merritt.
The magician stood over Luciana and Charley with a face as still as ice. Up close, Luciana still had the sense that she was only seeing an illusion, rather than the truth of the person standing in front of her. Merritt looked her over from head to foot, but Luciana refused to shrink back. Here was a magician who had done exactly the same as her grandfather, but had avoided the punishment that had ended the Magnificent Marko’s career. Why should she be the one to be afraid?
“I can deal with this,” Clara said to Merritt. “You should go.”
Merritt gave a single shake of his head and then moved to sit in the armchair that stood beside the small fireplace. Once settled, he looked at Clara again, raising one eyebrow.
Clara cleared her throat. “Say it again. Who you are, I mean.”
Luciana glanced at Merritt in surprise. She’d assumed that the magician’s silence was just for the stage. Could it really be true that he never spoke at all?
“My name is Luciana Cattaneo. My grandfather was—” Luciana faltered at the reaction the simple recitation of her name had provoked in the magician. His eyes, wide now, flashed to hers and then roved over her face for a second. Then, just as abruptly, he turned away again. “My – my grandfather was the Magnificent Marko. He died almost two weeks ago.”
“I’m sorry about that, but what do you want here?” Clara asked, her voice rough. “What do you want from us?”
Luciana shifted from one foot to the other. “Carl Thursby brought men to our house on the day of my grandfather’s funeral. They were searching for something. It was his last trick. The one that got him banished from the stage because he taught it to his assistant, Adeline Morrell. The Golden Butterfly.”
Luciana saw Merritt’s shoulders stiffen, but he otherwise showed no sign that he was even listening.
“We found it,” Luciana went on. “What my grandfather had hidden from Thursby. We think it’s the key to the Golden Butterfly, but we don’t know how it works. We need someone who knows magic properly to help us. We need a magician.”
“None of this has anything to do with us,” Clara said a little desperately.
“I know it doesn’t,” said Luciana. “And I promise, I don’t mean you any harm. All I want is some answers.”
“But you threatened us,” the woman hissed. “What makes you think we would trust you?”
“Why should you be able to trust me?” Luciana asked, becoming angry herself. “I saw you do that trick. I saw you! How is what Merritt has taught you any different than what my grandfather taught his own assistant? And yet no one is hounding you. Thursby hasn’t had you thrown off the stage, made you give up your livelihood, what you love, had your friends followed and spied upon! My grandfather lost everything, and here you are, doing exactly as you please and not a word said. How is that fair?”
Merritt turned his head at that. He and Clara shared a long, silent look.
“What is it that you want to know?” Clara asked eventually, turning to Luciana.
Luciana looked at Charley. “Before I show you, you have to promise. You have to promise not to tell Thursby we have it.”
Clara made a sound in her throat and shook her head. “Believe me, whatever it is, neither of us have any interest in doing that.”
Luciana paused another moment.
“Come on, Ana,” Charley said. “It’s now or never, isn’t it? Where else are we going to go?”
Luciana reached into her bag and took out the pouch. Opening it, she tipped both gold pieces into her hand and held them out to Clara. Merritt’s assistant took them and examined them with a frown before handing them to the magician.
Adolphus Merritt held a golden wing in each hand, smoothing his thumbs across the polished brass. He bent over them in silent contemplation for a few moments and then shook his head. Turning back to Luciana he held the two pieces out to her.
“What does that mean?” Luciana asked, not taking them from him. “That you can’t help us? Or that you won’t?”
The magician ran one thumb across the severed end of the metal ribbon that once connected the two pieces, and shrugged.
“It’s broken,” Luciana said, frustrated. “I can see that. But what does it do? How does it work? What—”
Merritt stood up from the chair and approached her. Taking one of Luciana’s hands he put both pieces into it and wrapped her fingers over it. He smiled down at her, and for a moment the clear blue of his eyes transformed into the warm brilliance of a summer sky. Luciana stared in shock as something in her mind flared in recognition. She knew those eyes. She remembered them, from long ago. But she’d never been this close to Merritt before. Had she?
“We can’t help you,” said Clara. “So you’ll have to decide what to do. If you want to go to Thursby, we can’t stop you.”
Luciana looked at her. “What would be the good of that?” she asked. “You’ll just change the act.”
Clara shrugged, her face hard. “Well then,” she said. “Either way you’ve stopped us, haven’t you?”
Luciana looked down at the pieces of metal in her hand. “I just want to know what this is. I want to know why it’s so important to Thursby.”
“Why?” Clara asked, exasperated. “What good would that do?”
Luciana blinked, tears in her eyes. “I never knew my parents. My grandparents are all I had. Now my grandfather is gone too. This is all I have left of him, but I don’t even really understand what it is. He left both of these pieces somewhere that he knew only I could find them. I feel as if he wanted me to work this out, to follow this trail, but this is where it has led me, and I still don’t understand. My grandmother wants me to forget all about magic completely, now that the Magnificent Marko has gone. But I don’t want to forget him, or what he did, or how great his magic was. The world might be forgetting the Magnificent Marko – they might be forgetting magic altogether – but I don’t want to. I want to understand it. I want to know how to perform it, and then maybe…” she trailed off, her shoulders sagging, feeling defeated, not even sure, really, what it was she was trying to express. After all, what could one girl do against a whole world of forgetting?
Charley took her hand. “Come on,” he said quietly. “There’s no point staying here. Let’s go.”
Luciana let him pull her away, the two pieces of broken trick in her hand. Neither Clara nor Adolphus Merritt tried to stop them.
“I’m sorry,” Clara called after them. “I’m sorry that we can’t help you.”
At the door Luciana looked back. Merritt was watching her, a sad smile frozen on his pale face, and there was something about it that stabbed a knife through Luciana’s heart. It was an expression that was familiar and at the same time like nothing she had ever seen before.
Something appeared from the muddled gloom of her own mind – another flash of memory, as powerful as the fragment that had accosted her in the dressing room at the Peacock.
She was wrapped in a soft blanket, warm and sleepy. Someone was singing to her. There was a face too. Bright blue eyes and a smile—
Luciana gasped and staggered, bracing herself against the doorjamb as Charley reached out to steady her.
“What is it?” he said, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”
Luciana stared past him, straight at the magician, who was watching her carefully. “I know,” she said. “I know why Adolphus Merritt never speaks. He doesn’t exist, does he? He never has. You’re not Adolphus Merritt. You’re Adeline Morrell.”
There was a moment of absolute silence. Then Clara gave a high laugh.
“That’s the most absurd thing I’v
e ever heard! How completely ridiculous!”
“No, it’s not,” said Luciana. She kept her eyes on the magician, who was standing in silence, still watching her. “Magicians use disguises all the time. Philpot Danvers even said so, when we came to see you perform. They use them as part of their act. Some even go as far as living their whole lives behind a mask to make their performances work. That’s what you’ve done, isn’t it? Except your deception is even greater than that. You’ve made everyone believe you are a man called Adolphus Merritt. But you’re not. You’re a woman. A woman called Adeline Morrell.”
Clara laughed again, a short, desperate sound. “Oh, enough of this. Go on, get out of here. We’ve got a show to prepare!”
“I’m not leaving,” Luciana said. “You’ll have to carry me out and throw me into the street if you want to get rid of me. Because I know I’m right. Aren’t I?”
There was another moment of silence. Then Merritt spoke.
“What gave me away?”
It was clearly a woman’s voice. Luciana blinked in surprise even though she’d been expecting it. Behind her, she heard Charley gasp. Luciana studied the magician’s face. “The eyes,” she said. “And the mouth. I recognized you the first moment I saw you on stage, I just didn’t know why. It’s your nose, isn’t it? It’s fake. That’s where the mask is.”
Merritt sighed. Then he reached up and ran the fingers of one hand down his nose. He grasped it and yanked, hard. Clara gasped out a “No!” as it came away.
“There,” said Adeline Morrell, holding up the ruin of rubber for Luciana and Charley to see before tossing it to the floor.
“Adeline, what have you done?” Clara cried, darting for the door and leaning hard against it, as if to be sure no one else could come in and see Merritt’s unveiling. “Why didn’t you just send them away? Now we are finished!”
“Oh, Clara,” said Adeline Morrell. “The game is up. There’s no point pretending otherwise. It was up the moment Luciana knocked at our door.” Morrell looked at Luciana with a sad smile. “Well, well. Now you know the truth, and I am sure you must have questions.”
The Golden Butterfly Page 9
