Lily (17 page)

Lily chuckled, and snapped her fingers at the candle to put it out. She didn’t care if she wasn’t the star of the magic act – she could do the real thing. But she’d hardly been able to do any magic over the last ten days, with all the rehearsals and dress fittings, and last-minute errands round the theatre. After years of being alone almost all the time, and feeling she was a nuisance whenever she did try to talk to someone, Lily felt as though she’d travelled to another world, far further than a train journey could have taken her. At last she seemed to be somewhere she was wanted. Henrietta was right, their act was good. Lily had noticed the reactions as they rehearsed, the stagehands and scene-painters gradually stopping their work to peer over at what they were doing. There was a hunger for magic, Lily could feel it. Or if not for magic, then just for something special and exciting. From what Daniel and the others had said, it wasn’t only magic that Queen Sophia’s Decree had suppressed. There seemed to be more rules about everything now, and theatres were always being inspected, in case they were showing something dangerous or improper. Everyone in the theatre seemed to hate the Queen’s Men, just as Lily and Georgie had been brought up to do. Sam had even spat when Lily had mentioned them while she helped him hang a new piece of scenery. He’d then apologised, shamefaced, especially after Henrietta barked at him. He adored Henrietta, and he kept bringing her little treats, and feeding her the crust off his meat pie at lunchtime.

As soon as the wardrobe mistress, the stagehands and everyone else had realised that the girls were always there, and didn’t mind being asked, they were constantly sent out for a pennyworth of scarlet thread, or a bag of nails, or even just the lighting man’s lunch.

Georgie had befriended Maria, the wardrobe mistress, by admiring the costumes. Maria was so glad to have another pair of hands willing to sew sequins onto leotards that she showed Georgie how to alter a pair of old dresses for herself and Lily, so that they might have something a little more up-to-date – or at least only a couple of years behind the current fashion.

While Georgie was sewing and picking up gossip in the wardrobe, Lily and Henrietta had grown quite at home in the warren of little alleys that ran around the back of the theatre. Lily was still a little anxious about going further, though. Every so often she found herself out on the main streets for an errand, and it scared her. She felt like a leaf, tossed about on the waves at home, turned this way and that by the hurrying crowds. Perhaps she would get used to it, she had thought the first time, pressing herself back against the cold glass of a shop window, and gasping for breath.

She would have to. Lily frowned to herself in the darkness. The theatre was so exciting, so bright and warm, that it would be easy to forget why they’d had to run. They
had
almost forgotten, this past week, she realised. She couldn’t be a conjuror’s assistant for ever. But if they left the theatre, and the warren of little alleys around it, she was horribly certain that Marten would hunt them out. She and Georgie were supposed to be searching for their father, and that would mean venturing out of their safe cocoon.

How did one even find a magicians’ prison? Would they be allowed to visit, or write a letter? If they had to use magic to find him, Lily suspected that would call Marten after them. She bit her lip, guiltily. They had to try harder – the glittery false magic of their act had made her forget the real kind. She smiled, feeling it leap inside her, the blood suddenly thundering in her ears. She couldn’t hold it back. She dug her nails into her palms. If they had to get rid of Marten so Lily could set her magic free, and her father’s, then they would. Somehow. Her magic surged around her blood, flinging itself eagerly against her skin. Lily frowned. If only she knew how to use it better. If they had to use Georgie’s magic against Marten, more of Mama’s strange spells might surface…

‘I feel sick,’ Georgie murmured.

She did look terribly white, Lily realised. ‘You can’t,’ she hissed. ‘We’ve been rehearsing this for a week, Georgie! It’s us now, any minute, after Lydia finishes that awful song about the flowers growing on her mother’s grave. I wish they were. Her mother said I looked like a charity child this morning.’

Georgie’s eyes sparkled with fury, as Lily had hoped they would. ‘Even in your new dress? How dare she! Especially when she looks like an elephant in pink frills!’

‘Ready?’ Daniel appeared beside them, looking anxious, and cradling Bella the rabbit, half-wrapped in the black silk handkerchief he used to hide her in behind the table.

‘I think so,’ Lily whispered. She was nervous too, although she didn’t really have to do anything difficult, only the Demon’s Cabinet, as she was smaller than Georgie. Her sister had turned out to have a surprising talent for dancing around the stage looking mysterious, which was apparently exactly what was needed. Her white-blonde hair had been decorated with a sparkly tiara, and she was wearing a silvery robe that looked a little like the ones the girls had slept on in the museum. She was to be introduced as a snow princess, from an icy Northland, full of ancient magic. Brownish hair seemed to disqualify Lily from being a snow princess, which she was rather glad about. She liked dancing, but she preferred the fast bouncy sort that the comic singers did, not the slow arm-waving kind that Georgie had copied from the ballet dancers. Georgie’s soulful expression reminded Lily too much of the way she looked when she had a stomach ache.

Lydia was curtseying now, very beautifully, Lily admitted grudgingly to herself. She didn’t like the bell-like way Lydia sang – it made her skull vibrate – but the audience certainly seemed to adore her. Several of them were even standing up to clap, and Lydia was still curtseying, and running back to the front of the stage again and again, with a sweetly modest expression on her face that made Lily clench her teeth. Daniel’s act
had
to go well. She could feel her magic calling as she waited, little sparks fizzing inside her. But Lydia was on what must be her last curtsey by now. Lily shook herself, trying to squash the magic back down. It would be so easy to turn Bella into something more interesting inside that hat, she thought wickedly, as Lydia finally ran off into the wings. It would ease the giggly, tickling feeling of too much magic, cooped up inside her. But she banished the thought as the heavy velvet curtains swept together, and she hurried the cabinet to the back of the stage, then turned to smile and pose, as the curtains drew slowly open once more.

L
ily held her breath. If she breathed too deeply, the panels would ripple, and everyone, or at least those in the front rows of the audience, would be able to see where she was. She still found it hard to believe that no one could tell, once she was safely hidden in the secret compartment. It seemed so obvious to her where she had to be. But after Daniel and Sam had constructed the cabinet together, and Georgie had borrowed some fabric from Maria to make the curtains, the last rehearsal had somehow stopped everyone in the theatre dead. Sam had been sworn to secrecy, and well-paid for his trouble, and all he did was smirk as the whispers ran round the wings. No one else knew.

Lily risked a deeper breath as she felt Georgie spin the cabinet to prove there was no secret mechanism on the other side. The cabinet was empty, even though they had all seen her climb in.

‘The demon has swallowed her up! My poor little assistant…’

Lily sniffed, but cautiously. She found the patter for this bit embarrassing, she preferred the funnier parts of the act, where Daniel made handkerchiefs change colour, and Henrietta stole them, trailing a whole line of handkerchiefs after her as she raced offstage.

‘Now, we must call her back from the demon’s clutches…’

Lily yawned, and tried not to twitch her toes. Georgie had drawn the gauzy curtains across the empty cabinet, ready for the next part of the trick, and now the eerie music was building to the drum roll. Lily folded down the side panel, and lit the candle, hissing as the match burned her fingers. She could hear the gasps from the audience as the cabinet began to glow with a ghostly light, and she curled her fingers into demon talons, pouncing and clawing in front of the candle, casting nightmarish shadow patterns on the curtain across the front. Daniel screamed a string of meaningless words, and she blew the candle out, and the terrifying claws disappeared. The music stopped abruptly as she did it – the conductor had a mirror that meant he could see the stage, even from the orchestra pit – and for a moment there was a panicked silence in the theatre.

Then the music began again, a gentle, wheedling tune, as Daniel made mystical passes across the front of the curtain – just in case it flapped while Lily was wriggling out of her hiding place. Georgie drew back the curtain with a flourish, and Lily waved and smiled at the astounded audience as Daniel lifted her down.

The Demon’s Cabinet was the finale of the act, and they bowed again and again, as the applause echoed round the theatre, before the curtains finally drew closed once more, and they raced off into the wings.

Maria hugged them delightedly, and Sam, standing by to haul up the next scenery change, clapped Lily on the back. ‘You did it perfect, Lily! Hear them shouting?’

Lily turned back to the empty stage. It was true – the clapping was even louder, and now there was shouting, and stamping too.

‘We haven’t an encore!’ Daniel murmured worriedly.

‘An encore!’ someone snapped. Mrs Lacey, Lydia’s mother, stood by with her hands on Lydia’s shoulders, while Lydia pouted prettily at Daniel. ‘Nonsense. Lydia is waiting to sing. You can’t disappoint her audience.’

Daniel looked as though he was about to argue, but since they hadn’t rehearsed another trick, he simply bowed, and allowed Lydia, in a sparkly fairy outfit, complete with crystal-studded wings and a wand, to run on to the stage.

‘We should have ended the show,’ he murmured, watching as the curtains opened and the audience muttered sadly. ‘But it’s in her contract that she has the final song…’

Lydia was very, very good, Lily had to admit, watching as the other girl charmed the audience, making them hers again. But she wasn’t quite good enough to make them forget Daniel’s act. It was the magic they were sure they’d seen that they would be discussing as they left the theatre, not the Silver Songbird. And as Lydia curtseyed and ran off the stage, her flushed cheeks and gritted teeth made it quite obvious that she knew that – and she was furious.

‘You’re in the newspaper, Lily! Tea?’ Sam was boiling a kettle over the little spirit stove in the stagehands’ cubby as Lily wandered past him yawning the next morning. Their act only took about twenty minutes, but it had left her exhausted, and at the same time wound up like a clock spring. She had wriggled and tossed under their covers until Henrietta and Georgie had threatened to send her to sleep in the wardrobe room.

‘Oh, please.’ Lily nodded, and then she gathered what Sam had said. ‘In the newspaper?’

‘With a sketch, look. You in the cabinet. And Henrietta on the top of it, not that she is ever in the act. They got the dimensions wrong too,’ he grumbled, but Lily could tell he was immensely proud of his creation. ‘Must have given a description to the artist. Ought to tell Daniel to get that photographer we had once back to take your pictures, you could be selling them as souvenirs soon, I expect.’

Lily glanced up at him, puzzled. ‘What does that mean?’

‘You are an odd one, sometimes.’ Sam shook his head at her, smiling. ‘You and that little polished devil of a dog.’ He tickled Henrietta behind the ears as he said this, and his voice was honeyed with love. Henrietta looked smugly sideways at Lily, and closed her eyes blissfully.

‘I’ve just never heard of it – what you said,’ Lily admitted humbly. ‘Do you mean selling our photographs? Would people really buy them?’

‘If the act carries on like this, course they will. Add a bit of cash to your running-away fund, that might.’

Lily lifted her eyes from the newspaper slowly, her heart suddenly thudding, but Sam was still smiling. Just one of his enormous furry eyebrows was raised at her.

‘Course, you might not want your faces all over town. I’m not asking, Lily, love. Sometimes you do what you need to, that’s how it goes.’

‘We had to,’ Lily whispered. ‘Really we did.’

‘Like I said. I’m not asking. You be careful though. I worked for Mr Daniel’s uncle, like a lot of the stage crew did, and he never mentioned no cousins to me.’

‘Distant cousins…’ Lily said pleadingly. ‘Almost estranged.’

‘Well then. You stick to that.’ Sam nodded at her. ‘What’s it say then, in that article?’

Lily gulped, and fixed her eyes on the caption under the drawing. Her mouth curved in an absurd little smile, as she read it out loud. ‘
The Amazing Danieli, and the Northern Princesses, with friend, at the Queen’s Theatre
. That’s really us! It’s a very good portrait of Henrietta, but it doesn’t look like me or Georgie or Daniel at all.’

Sam laughed to himself. ‘Doesn’t matter. You run out and buy another couple of papers, Lily. Then you can go wafting them around, especially in front of Miss Lydia and her ma. Notice the article doesn’t mention
her
. They’ll be having kittens.’