No Cage for a Crow

Five - Dark Places

I ducked my head, on the chance my sudden flush of embarrassment was visible.

Magpie leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye. ''Ow about it? You're sure smart like a crow. We 'eard you tryin' to talk down the Hellhounds. Smart is good. Bet you'd learn real quick, if you was to run with us... Well, soon as you can run again.'

It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, at least apart from the fact that I was apparently to be known as Crow. 'You would let me join you?'

He shrugged. 'You got anywhere else to go?'

I thought of Bordeaux, and the decreasing likelihood, given my adventure of that morning, that I would ever be able to get there on my own. Possible, still, but no longer probable. No longer easy.

I sighed. 'I really don't think so. Thank you.'

He shrugged again. 'You talk nice. Would make a goodish haul begging, maybe. But I doubt you have any practice breaking the law. Goin' to need to learn that if you're goin' to stay alive.'

I must have blanched.

The freckled boy, Weasel, snorted loudly.

'I'm not certain I can do that,' I told them. 'It's not that I'm not grateful, but I'm afraid I'd just be a liability. I'd be slow, or I'd trip up. And I don't think I can break the law.'

Sylvia reappeared with a chipped wooden tray bearing an equally chipped bowl and a mug, both steaming beautifully. I took it with more gratitude than I could express, and she seemed to sense my appreciation, for some of the sergeant-major melted from her features, and she nodded briskly.

Magpie waited until she had departed again before turning back to me. 'You can learn,' he said. 'We all learn. And,' he added, not unkindly, 'pilfering's easy when you're hungry enough. Even for you, I promise.'

He had a point. I looked down at the bowl in front of me. A soggy crust of bread swam bleakly in oily brown broth atop a mush of bloated barley and unidentifiable vegetables. It was one of the most appealing things I had ever seen in my life, and it had not yet been a day since the last time I had eaten. Another day or two, maybe, and I could almost see myself stealing for a chance at even that fare. Or going home... No. I would brave the workhouse before I went home.

I sucked in a breath and blew it out. 'I am smart,' I agreed, pushing aside thoughts of all the recent evidence to the contrary. 'Most of the time. I'll learn anything you need me to, anything you can teach me. Anyway, I'd have to be an idiot to refuse if someone offers to teach me to survive.'

I was an idiot, of course, but not a suicidal one.

A huge grin split the boy's face from ear to ear. 'Right!' he exclaimed. 'Eat up, then. Doc says we can all stay till your things are dry. 'Ope it takes a while. Don't know 'bout you, but I don't fancy goin' back out there till I 'ave to.'

The business concluded, the Wrong Boys broke once again into their chatter, centring mostly, it seemed, on who had done the most damage to the Hellhounds. They seemed to agree that the day's winner had been Billy, the mountain, and I thought it possible that he had been the one whose knife had found its mark. For a moment, I tried to hope that the injured Hellhound had found help and would be all right, but it was no use. I hoped he bled out and froze to death in a heap of dung, somewhere. It wasn't charitable or ladylike, and perhaps that attitude had contributed to the horrible chain of events leading up to my escape out the window, but I could not bring myself to be sorry for it.

I turned to my soup and the cup of weak, bitter tea as they recounted the adventures again and again, embellishing until even I was entertained.

But the stories died away as, encouraged by the heat of the fire, they dropped one by one to sleep, until I set the tray aside and began to nod, too. Only Magpie remained alert, like a sentry, leaned back in the chair he had claimed, but regarding me steadily through his yellow lashes. There was no trust, there, less even than I had for him. That would take time and effort from both of us.