Children of the Fox

by Kevin Sands

  “See?” Lachlan said, delighted. “Right proper indeed. He’s smart, too, he is. Does tricks. Come here, Galawan.”

  He held out a finger, and the bird flew over to land on it.

  “Now go find Meriel.”

  The bird flew into one of the bedrooms. A moment later, Meriel came out, Galawan sitting on her head.

  “Is this how it’s going to be all week?” she said.

  Lachlan pointed to me, like it was my fault. Before I could protest, Foxtail appeared in the window. She climbed through nimbly, frilly dress and all. It was becoming pretty clear what she’d be good at.

  Speaking of which, it was time to talk about the job. I took the chair by the stove. Lachlan sat next to me, calling Galawan back to his finger. Foxtail tossed off her veiled hat and curled up on the sofa next to Meriel. Gareth was slower, taking a seat in the chair farthest from the group.

  “Shame Oran decided to scarper,” Lachlan said.

  “Oh, Lachlan,” Meriel said, like a disappointed teacher. “Surely you didn’t buy that?”

  “You saying he was lying?”

  “You imagine he’s going to pass up two million crowns? You heard Mr. Solomon. Whoever brings him the Eye gets paid, even if they’re alone. Oran was trying to scare us off.”

  I didn’t like where this conversation was going. The more they talked of Oran leaving, the more hopeless this job would look. We needed to get on to something else.

  Normally, I’d have suggested getting to know each other, but even though I saw the curiosity in their eyes, asking them would have been a mistake. Gareth was too nervous to share, Meriel too combative. And telling about myself while getting nothing in return would make me look weak.

  So instead, I went in a different direction. I took Mr. Solomon’s satchel and dumped it on the table. Two folded papers fell out—a detailed map of Carlow and a crudely sketched and labeled floor plan of the High Weaver’s mansion, like he’d said—along with two big stacks of bills. The twenty thousand Mr. Solomon had given us for expenses.

  “All right,” I said, “who wants to steal the money and run?”

  A shocked silence filled the room. Then Lachlan laughed. “Good one, guv.”

  Gareth smiled slightly. Not much, but more than I’d seen from him so far. Foxtail cocked her head at me, amused. Only Meriel hesitated—then made a wry face.

  “I was only thinking about it,” she said. “It is a lot of money.”

  “Mr. Solomon don’t seem the bloke to cross,” Lachlan said.

  That brought up a good point. “Does anyone know how he found us?” I said.

  “I asked,” Meriel said, frowning, “but he wouldn’t tell me.”

  Everyone else looked just as clueless. Part of me had been wondering if he’d got my name through the Old Man—but then, why would the Old Man throw a gaff my way? Besides, that wouldn’t explain how Mr. Solomon found the others.

  Strange were the ways of Weavers, I guess. In the meantime, our clock was ticking. We needed to get on the job.

  “All right,” I said. “If we’re going to do this, Gareth should hold the expense money.”

  “Why him?” Meriel protested.

  “Because he won’t run off with it. Will you, Gareth?”

  After a brief look of surprise, he shook his head.

  “There. See?”

  “How do you know he’s not lying?”

  “Same way I knew you stole a diamond on the Malley. It’s my job.”

  She made a face, but surprisingly didn’t object. I went on. “Here’s what we have. Mr. Solomon told you I worked with the Architect, so you know I’m a gaffer. Lachlan’s a runner. He can get us things we need. Foxtail’s obviously a second-story girl”—that meant “cat burglar”; she stood and gave a little curtsy—“so that’ll be useful if we need to sneak in somewhere. And Meriel’s an acrobat, so—”

  “How d’you know that?” Lachlan said, curious.

  Meriel smirked. “Oh, let me tell him.”

  I sighed, more irritated than I’d like to admit. “Stick your knives in later, will you?”

  “Oh, that’s right.” She flicked her wrist, and a throwing dagger appeared in her palm. She flung it past my head, close enough to make me flinch. It stuck in the portrait over the fire, quivering between a plump woman’s eyes. “I’m also good with knives.”

  Foxtail applauded silently. Lachlan was delighted. “Shuna’s snout. Do it again.”

  “If we can continue,” I said, “that just leaves you, Gareth.”

  The taller boy shrank a little into the cushions.

  “C’mon, Gar,” Lachlan said. “Show us what you do.”

  “Well . . . I . . .” he mumbled. “I can . . . find things out.”

  “How d’you mean?”

  “Like . . .” He seemed embarrassed to say it. “I can . . . look things up. Research.”

  Meriel frowned. “Research? We’re not going to school.”

  Her comment made him shrink even further. “But . . . if we n-need to know things. Maps. Floor plans. Sewer tunnels and the like. I can find them.”

  “Mr. Solomon already gave us the plan to the High Weaver’s house.”

  She wasn’t wrong, but the growing flush in Gareth’s face told me he’d shut down if he wasn’t encouraged. “Research will be useful,” I said, and I meant it. “There’s a few things we’ll need to look up right away. Anything else?”

  Gareth stammered. “Well . . . I do . . . with my h-hands. Tricks, I mean. And the like.”

  “Tricks?” Lachlan’s eyes went wide. “Like card tricks? Do one!”

  “What good is that?” Meriel said.

  Lachlan frowned. “It’s fun. Why’re you on him so bad?”

  “I’m not,” she said, taken aback. “I . . .”

  She glanced about the circle. I kept my expression neutral, but Lachlan didn’t look happy, and Foxtail was tapping her foot with impatience.

  I thought Meriel would blow. She surprised me. “You’re right,” she said. “I apologize, Gareth.”

  “It’s all right,” he mumbled.

  “No. I shouldn’t have put you down,” she said, and she didn’t sound mocking at all. “Please. Show me a trick.”

  “I wanted to do it,” Lachlan complained, but I hushed him. Gareth pulled a deck of cards from inside his jacket. He’d come prepared—interesting.

  He stood and cleared his throat nervously. “All right,” he said. “This is . . . It’s an ordinary deck. Look and see there’s nothing c-crooked.”

  He held the deck in front of him. Meriel had to step close to him to take it. She riffled through the cards, then nodded and handed them back.

  Gareth shuffled, then fanned out the deck. “Take a card. Any one you like.”

  Meriel held a finger over the deck, hesitating, then pulled a card near the middle. The rest of us moved behind her, so we could see, too. She’d drawn the three of swords.

  Gareth handed her the deck. “Put the card back and shuffle it.” He turned away as she shuffled, placing his fingers against his temples, as if concentrating. His confidence, I noted, was growing the more he got into the trick. His stammer had all but disappeared.

  “Done,” Meriel said.

  Gareth took the deck back. “The whole time you were shuffling”—he put a finger to his temple—“I was controlling your mind. I made you shuffle the exact way I wanted you to.”

  “Sure you did.”

  “I did. As you’ll see, I made you leave your card on top.” He held the deck out.

  Meriel paused. Then she reached out and turned over . . . the seven of runes.

  Gareth looked pleased. He faltered as he saw our expressions. “Is . . . is that not it?”

  “No,” Meriel said.

  “Wait . . . it’s . . .” Gareth turned the
next card. “Is this it?”

  He drew out the Princess.

  “It was the three of swords,” Meriel said, sounding embarrassed.

  Lachlan clapped Gareth on the arm. “No worries, mate. Everyone guffs it up now and again.”

  Gareth wouldn’t meet our eyes. “That should have worked,” he mumbled.

  We sat back down as he riffled through the cards, awkwardness hanging in the air. Best to change the subject. “All right,” I said. “We know what we have, so now we need to—”

  “Hey,” Gareth said.

  He looked up at Meriel.

  “You r-ruined my trick,” he said.

  She looked surprised. “What?”

  “You were supposed to put your card back before you shuffled it.”

  “I did.”

  “Then why isn’t it in here?”

  He fanned the cards, faceup, on the table in the center. Sure enough, the three of swords was missing.

  “Aw, that’s rotten,” Lachlan said. Foxtail shook her head, disappointed.

  Meriel looked confused. “But . . . I didn’t. I swear. Fox and Bear, I swear. I put the card back. You saw me.”

  “Does that dress have a pocket?” Gareth said.

  “It has several,” Meriel said, turning out an alarming number of hidden pockets. “Where else would I put—”

  She froze, one hand near a fold at her waist. Slowly, she pulled out a card.

  It was the three of swords.

  “That’s . . .” She was totally flustered. “I promise you, I don’t know how this . . .”

  She trailed off as Gareth sat back, hands folded in his lap.

  “Oh! OH!” Lachlan sprung from his chair. “He got you! He got you!”

  Meriel flushed. Foxtail laughed; shoulders shaking, though she made no sound. As for Gareth, he just sat there, quietly—but he wasn’t slouching so deep in the cushions anymore. He still wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, but I could tell. He was pleased.

  He should have been. I’d watched him like a hawk, and I hadn’t spotted anything—least of which how he’d slipped the card in Meriel’s pocket. It was an amazing sleight of hand. And that could be very useful.

  As for Meriel, she accepted her defeat with surprising grace. Her fingers pinched the card—she wasn’t happy—but all she said was “Very funny,” and flicked the card neatly into his lap before folding her arms and daring me to laugh at her, too.

  I knew better. Anyway, it was past noon, and time to get to work. “Now that we really know what everyone can do,” I said, “let’s work up a plan.”

  “We should hit the High Weaver’s house,” Meriel said. “And we should do it tonight. We have the layout, and his defenses are down. Why give him the chance to put them back up?”

  “If what Mr. Solomon said is true. This is Darragh VII we’re talking about. I find it hard to believe he hasn’t worked out something new already. There’ll be guards at least, bet on that.”

  “So what then, guv?” Lachlan said.

  “We need someone to case the place, see what we’re up against.”

  Foxtail tapped her chest. She picked up the floor plan, studying it—though she was holding it upside down.

  “Great. While Foxtail’s doing that, we might need to play a role or two along the way, so we’ll need different outfits. Noble class, merchant class, working class. Lachlan?”

  “Too easy, guv.”

  “And while you’re out there, check on any of your old contacts you think might still be around. See if the war on the Breakers sent any of them underground.”

  He gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Gareth. See what you can learn about the Eye. Mr. Solomon was being awfully vague about it. That means we need to know more. Any questions?”

  He shook his head.

  “Then we’ll meet back here when everyone’s done.”

  Foxtail left by the window, tucking the sketch of the High Weaver’s home in her dress and climbing down the water pipes. I took a thousand crowns from Mr. Solomon’s pouch—I’d need it for expenses very soon—and then the boys left, too. Lachlan took Galawan, trying to coax a somewhat bemused Gareth into telling him how he did his card trick. I sat there, a little bemused myself. I wasn’t used to giving orders.

  You’re more like me than you think, the Old Man said.

  I’m nothing like you, I said.

  Keep dreaming, boy.

  I threw him out of my head.

  Meriel raised an eyebrow. “What about us? Are we just going to sit here? Drink milk, get to know each other better?”

  “Sounds lovely, but no. You’re coming with me.”

  “Oh, am I? And where are we going, my lord?”

  “Remember how cagey Mr. Solomon was about that thief who survived?”

  “The one who lost his mind?”

  “We should speak to him.”

  She didn’t like that idea. “What good will he be if he’s gone mad?”

  “Maybe none. But Mr. Solomon didn't want us talking to him." I stood. “And we're going to find out why.”

  CHAPTER 12

  The start of any good gaff is looking the part. So I asked the clerk downstairs to arrange a private carriage to take us to Clarewell Sanatorium.

  I hadn’t told Meriel anything more about what we were doing, which made her rather cross. Once the driver had climbed atop our carriage and snapped the reins, she demanded I explain what was happening.

  “I told you,” I said. “We’re going to talk to the thief who survived.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “No.”

  “But you know what he looks like.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then how are we supposed to find out whom to talk to?”

  “I have a plan.”

  She glared at me. “And are you going to tell me that plan?”

  “Of course.”

  She waited, getting more steamed by the minute.

  All right, all right—I was being petty. I still owed her payback for leaving me high and dry on the Malley, so I’d decided to play one of the Old Man’s favorite games: Answer Every Question Literally While Giving No Information At All. Try it sometime, it’s infuriating.

  “I suppose you’re planning to read their minds, then?” Meriel said, scowling.

  I almost said yes, just to make her really angry, but thinking of the Old Man made me stop.

  I’d been copying him ever since he left; doing things his way. I suppose that made sense. After all, he taught me everything I knew. But learning his lessons hadn’t always been fun, and we’d made a lot of enemies along the way.

  I taught you what’s true, the Old Man said. I taught you what you needed to survive.

  You mean you taught me to cheat, I said.

  Same thing, isn’t it?

  I sighed. Does it have to be?

  He didn’t answer.

  I don’t want to cheat everyone I see, I said. Can’t I make friends instead of enemies?

  What an interesting idea, he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or not. Go on, then. Make a friend.

  The closest thing I’d ever had to a friend was Grey, the clockmaker. I wasn’t sure I even knew how.

  Well, the Old Man said, amused, you could start by not annoying her anymore. Show her how our tricks work.

  I objected. It took a lifetime to learn what you taught me.

  She doesn’t need to be an expert. Just trust her with a secret.

  I supposed I might as well try his advice. I turned back to Meriel. “I should probably keep up the mystique,” I said, “but no. Gaffers don’t read minds. We read bodies.”

  Her eyes narrowed, unsure if I was taunting her. Then she remembered: she’d seen me do it before. “Like on the Malley. You knew t
hat man had a gem in his pocket because he kept touching it.”

  I nodded. “People have ways of telling you what’s going on inside, without even realizing they’re doing it.”

  “How did you know it was a diamond, though? Not an emerald, or a sapphire, or whatever?”

  “I didn’t know. I guessed.”

  “You guessed?”

  “Half of what gaffers do is play the odds,” I confessed. “I knew what he had was incredibly valuable, because of how nervous he was. Diamond was just the most likely choice.”

  “And you do this with everybody?”

  “More or less.”

  She gave me a look, a challenge. “Read me, then.”

  I laughed. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because people don’t like it when you read their true feelings. They get angry.”

  “I won’t.”

  I just shrugged.

  “Oh, I see,” she said. “You’re all talk.”

  Ugh. Now I’d backed myself into a corner. If I didn’t read her, she’d wonder if I wasn’t as good as I claimed, and I’d have ruined the trust I was trying to establish.

  And in truth, I kind of liked telling her how I did my job. I’d had no one to talk to when I’d been in Coulgen—at least, no one to whom I wasn’t telling lies. Maybe it really didn’t have to be like that anymore.

  “Fine. But remember, you asked for it.” I turned toward her in the carriage. “You’re not the skittish sort. You don’t usually suffer from nerves.”

  “Never,” she said.

  “Yet you’re nervous now.”

  She opened her mouth, then shut it without saying anything. She sat there, studying me, as the carriage wheels rumbled down the street. I could practically hear the dice tumbling in my head.

  Finally, she gave a wry smile. “Huh.”

  I relaxed a little. Looked like I’d come up sevens.

  Meriel studied me a bit more, then said, “All right, give. How could you tell?”

  “For one thing,” I said, “I’ve been needling you, and you haven’t done anything about it. If you were comfortable, you’d be giving as good as you get.”

  “That’s it? I’m nervous because I’m not making fun of you?”