Museum of Thieves (5 page)

Then, before her brother could ask any more questions, she scribbled her signature on the paper and pushed it towards him.

He bowed. ‘Thank you for your time, Your Grace. Meeting with you is always
such
a pleasure. Blessings upon you.’

His teeth flashed in an insincere smile. Then he was gone.

.

oldie crouched inside the cabin of a small private water-rig. Despite the heat she was shivering. Her head ached and her legs were cramped, but she dared not move. The water-rig was moored right up against Beast Dock, and there were barges and waterbuses all around. It was a miracle that she had got this far without being seen.

Now that the wildness had worn off, she was horrified by what she had done. She glared at the remains of the white silk ribbon on her wrist. ‘Stupid!’ she hissed. ‘Stupid, stupid,
stupid
!’

There was a clattering from the barge next door, and she jammed her knuckles into her mouth. Had someone heard her? Were they coming? What would they do if they caught her?

She squeezed her eyes shut and waited. The clattering died away. A man laughed. The water-rig rocked gently from side to side. Slowly, Goldie opened her eyes.

Above her head was the wooden wheel that steered the boat. On either side of the wheel were narrow seats with sheepskin coverlets. The rest of the cabin was empty. No Blessed Guardians. No Ma and Pa.

For the first time in her life Goldie was completely alone.

Quickly she shut her eyes again. The
thump thump thump
of her heart was louder than she’d ever heard it before. She wondered if she was coming down with a fever. Her legs and arms shook. She tried desperately to hold back the tears.

But then she remembered Ma’s little squeak of dismay when the Protector raised the scissors. She remembered the way Pa had stroked the top of her head. She thought of how much she loved them.

The tears poured down her face. Fear and sorrow sat like twin fists inside her.

She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying silently in the slowly rocking boat. It seemed like hours. By the time her tears ran out, her lips were dry and cracked with thirst. She shifted position slightly and her stomach rumbled.

She tried to distract herself by imagining what Favour was doing right now. But her mind veered off in another direction and she found herself thinking about murderous bombers.

And mad dogs.

And slave traders.

Her skin crawled. She felt like an oyster that had foolishly prised itself out of its shell and now had nothing to protect it. She took the scissors from her pocket and clutched them so tightly that her fingers cramped.

The day passed unbearably slowly. Water lapped against the hull. Engines rumbled. People on the neighbouring barges shouted instructions to each other.

‘Easy now! Eeeaasy! That’s it, let it down! Not
there
, you moon-blind idiot! Over
here
!’

At last the sky outside the portholes grew dark, and the work noises faded. Somewhere, someone was cooking fish.

The smell made Goldie feel sick with hunger. As quietly as she could, she stretched the cramp out of her legs, grimacing with the pain of it. Then she crawled along the floor of the cabin and peeped out the nearest porthole.

The waterbuses had gone, and so had some of the barges. The ones that remained had their curtains drawn and their lights dimmed.

Slowly Goldie crawled up onto the small deck, ready to dive back into hiding if anyone appeared unexpectedly. When she was sure that there was no one around, she crept off the end of the water-rig onto the dock and up the steps to the street.

There was a gate at the top of the steps. Goldie didn’t dare open it in case it creaked. She climbed over it – or rather half-climbed, half-fell. Then she hurried along the old towpath, her heart thumping and galumping like an engine.

The night was dark, and there was a hush over the streets of the Old Quarter, as if everyone was so shocked by the events of the day that they had gone to bed early and pulled the covers over their heads. Goldie left the towpath and began to make her way towards the Plaza of the Forlorn.

Every time she heard a strange noise, her heart almost jumped out of her chest. Her feet tripped and stumbled on the cobblestones, and when she came to a corner she hesitated, wondering which was the best way to go. She had longed to be rid of the guardchain, but now she found it almost unbearably odd not having someone tell her what to do, and urge her this way and that – someone who would pull her back from danger and catch her if she fell. It was like being a baby and having to learn to walk all over again.

Her own street, when she came to it, was as silent as the rest of the city. Goldie crept along it, her eyes fixed on the apartment building halfway down the block.

Beware,
whispered the little voice in the back of her mind. For once Goldie ignored it. She was thinking about Ma and Pa, and wondering what they had had for dinner. She imagined them sitting on her empty bed with their arms around each other, crying. She brushed her own tears away.

BEWARE!

Further down the street, the shadows seemed to move and whisper. At the same time, a hand shot out of nowhere and closed over Goldie’s mouth. She tried to scream. She struggled, her sandals scraping on the cobblestones. But two more hands gripped her and pulled her through an open doorway.

‘Sssshhh!’ breathed a voice in her ear. A fourth hand that she instantly recognised as Favour’s slid into hers. The door eased closed in front of her, but didn’t shut completely. The hand across her mouth loosened a little.

Goldie knew where she was now; she could smell Herro Berg’s shaving lotion and feel the shape of Frow Berg’s bracelet pressing into her arm. She stood trembling in the dark hallway.

In the street outside there was the sudden flash of a lantern and the sound of footsteps.

‘Did you hear that? We’ve got her now!’ said Guardian Comfort.

‘
I
heard nothing,’ said Guardian Hope. ‘But blow your whistle if you must. Alert the others. If she’s
here, she’ll try to run for it.’

The single-note whistle of the Blessed Guardians shrilled up and down the street. The footsteps went a bit further, then circled back again.

‘Golden Roth!’ cried Guardian Comfort. ‘We know you’re here! Don’t waste our time, we’re going to catch you anyway.’

Herro Berg’s hand tightened over Goldie’s mouth.

‘Give yourself up,’ cried Guardian Comfort, ‘and we may treat you more leniently!’

Silence. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of Goldie’s neck.

Guardian Hope sniffed loudly. ‘I do believe you’re jumping at shadows, colleague.’

‘It was her, I’m sure of it. She’s hiding somewhere nearby.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Guardian Hope. ‘Or perhaps you’re just wasting my precious time.’

Their voices faded into the distance. Silently, Frow Berg bolted the door. Herro Berg took his hand away from Goldie’s mouth.

‘I’m d-doing this ag-gainst my b-better judgement,’ he whispered. His stammer was much worse than usual. ‘I d-
don’t
want my d-daughter t-taken into C-C-Care. Nor d-do I want the att-tention of the B-B-Blessed G-Guardians to fall up-pon my family in any way. If they c-c-catch you, you mustn’t t-t-tell them we helped you.’

‘I won’t,’ whispered Goldie.

‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ whispered Favour, throwing her arms around Goldie’s neck and hugging her tightly. ‘Where’ve you
been
?’

‘Hiding.’

‘All on your
own
? What was it like?’

‘Horrible! Favour, I’m so thirsty!’

‘Ma, she’s thirsty!’

‘Of course she is, poor chick,’ murmured Frow Berg. ‘And hungry too, I expect. I’ve got a glass of water for her and there’s some bread and cheese here somewhere.’

‘What d-d-did you think you were d-d-d-d-doing, g-girl?’ whispered Herro Berg, as Goldie gulped the water down. ‘What p-p-possible g-g-good can come of this?’

‘Sshh,’ whispered Frow Berg. ‘It’s done now and there’s no changing it.’ She squeezed Goldie’s hand. ‘Your parents asked us to watch out for you.’

‘Are they all right?’ whispered Goldie. ‘What did they say? Are they angry with me?’

‘Their hearts are torn. They want you to be safe, but they don’t want the Blessed Guardians to catch you and take you into Care. Your mother said you must try to leave the city. Though how a child on her own might do that I can’t imagine!’

Goldie couldn’t imagine it either. The whole world had turned upside down, and she had no one to blame but herself. ‘Can’t I just go home?’ she said miserably.

‘I’m afraid that’s no longer possible, my dear. Once the Blessed Guardians are involved everything changes.’ Frow Berg pushed a slip of paper into her hand. ‘Your mother has some distant cousins in Spoke who should look after you if you can get that far. Here’s their address. Oh, yes, and there’s a purse. Where did I put it? Is it with the bread and cheese? Oh dear, where did I put the bread and cheese?’ She began to fumble around in the darkness.

Goldie looked helplessly at Favour. ‘How am I supposed to get to
Spoke
?’

‘I don’t know, but you’ll have to try,’ said Favour. ‘You mustn’t let the Guardians catch you.’

‘But I don’t even know where to start!’

‘Goldie,’ whispered Favour very seriously, ‘if
I
had to find my way to Spoke all by myself, I’d probably just curl up and die. But you’re braver than me. You always have been. You’re braver than any of us. And you do
things that no one else’d even think of. Like today.’

‘I wish I hadn’t!’

Favour’s breath was warm on her cheek. ‘So do I, because now I won’t see you for ages and ages. But if anyone can get to Spoke, you can.’

Goldie shook her head. ‘I’m so hungry I can’t even think.’

‘Ma!’ said Favour. ‘Where’s the food?’

‘I’m looking for it,’ said Frow Berg. ‘I don’t suppose we could risk a light?’

‘Absolutely n-n-n-not!’

‘I wish we could hide you,’ whispered Favour. ‘But Pa says the Guardians will be sure to search—’

As if her words had somehow summoned them, there came sudden footsteps and a loud thumping on the front door.

‘Open up!’ shouted Guardian Hope. ‘Open in the name of the Seven!’

‘Quick!’ hissed Herro Berg. ‘G-get her out the back d-door! And Favour, into your b-bed! Chain yourself, they’ll b-be sure to check!’

‘Blessings, Goldie!’ whispered Favour. ‘Hundreds and hundreds and
thousands
of Blessings!’

Then she was gone, and Frow Berg was urging Goldie through the dark house. Behind them the thumping on the front door grew louder.

‘Yes, yes, I’m c-coming as quickly as I c-can!’ called out Herro Berg in a pretend-sleepy voice.

‘Oh, I don’t know where I put that purse!’ whispered Frow Berg frantically. ‘And there’s no time to look now! Forgive me, dear! But here, at least I found a bread roll!’

She thrust something into Goldie’s hand. Then she pulled the back door open just wide enough to squeeze through. ‘Go quickly!’ she whispered. ‘Blessings! Blessings!’

With the faintest of
clicks
, the door closed on her kind face. And once again Goldie was alone.