Lily and the Shining Dragons Page 3

  But it had all come to nothing. The gold-haired woman had vanished out of the box between the curtain calls, and there had been no word from her since.

  ‘I know she was staring at us,’ Lily muttered. ‘Why watch us like that, and then just disappear?’

  Georgie shook her head, and simply went on rinsing out their silk stockings in a bowl of warm water. They only had one pair each, as they were hideously expensive, and she had to wash them between performances.

  Suddenly Henrietta sat up on the bed, her tail flicking back and forth uncertainly. ‘Listen! Something…There’s a scent of magic. The proper stuff. For heaven’s sake, girl, put that away!’ she growled at Georgie. ‘Smooth your hair.’

  Georgie stuffed the bowl under the bed, and stood up looking guilty, and frightened.

  Lily brushed down her skirt. There was no point trying to do anything to her hair without a spell, and right now, she didn’t want to. It seemed – foolish. Better to keep everything under wraps, until they had some idea of what they were dealing with. She looked around the dingy room, and suddenly wished they’d made more fuss to Daniel about somewhere nicer to sleep. Or larger, so at least there was a place other than the bed to sit.

  Then she shrugged, twisting her shoulders awkwardly. She’d never cared about the room before. It was a safe refuge from Mama and Marten. They had been grateful, and so they should have been. What had come over her?

  ‘It can’t be that magician.’ Lily turned to Georgie, shaking her head uncertainly. ‘They wouldn’t have let her in the theatre. The front’s still locked up this time of the afternoon, and the stagehands wouldn’t let her just walk in the doors from the scene dock, would they?’

  Georgie turned her head slowly, one side then the other. No.

  But they knew it was her.

  ‘She’s coming,’ Lily muttered, though there was no need for her to say.

  The gold-haired woman was there, suddenly, in the doorway. The hair was coiled elegantly under a tiny black velvet hat, which matched the black velvet trimming on her dark red silk dress. It looked rather like one of the grandest costumes in the theatre wardrobe, only without the spangles, and the silk floss. It also looked expensive.

  The dress had stopped Georgie being quite so frightened, Lily could tell. Her sister was eyeing the outfit hungrily, peering at the elegant way the overskirt was drawn up over the bustle at the back, and the velvet rosettes holding it in place. Her eyes were bright with admiration now, instead of fear.

  But Lily was looking at the woman’s face, and not her dress, and she was still scared. Henrietta was humming a low-toned growl, practically too quiet to hear. She had backed almost under the bed as the woman appeared in the doorway. Lily wished she could hide under the bed too.

  The gold-haired woman smiled graciously around at all of them. With only a twitch at her skirt, she somehow managed to show that she thought the room was dirty, and they were unkempt, and she was demeaning herself even by letting her black lace petticoats trail over the dusty floor. It was impressive.

  Lily stood on one foot, tucking the other behind her ankle, and trying to look as though she wasn’t. The floor was so dirty, she didn’t want to touch it any more than she absolutely had to. And her black cotton stocking had a hole…

  ‘It doesn’t…’ she whispered to herself, shaking her head. And she put her foot down hard on the boards again. ‘Or, anyway, Georgie darned it.’

  The magician in the doorway smiled harder, showing teeth like pearls, and Lily’s foot itched to curl itself away from the floor again. But she didn’t. There was a squeaking of springs behind her, and she glanced round to see that Georgie was now sitting on their bed, with her knees drawn up to her chest. She was looking around the room as if it sickened her.

  ‘Stop it!’ Lily snapped, making the same snatching gesture she had used to pull the spell away from her hair. Henrietta raced forward, snapping at the woman’s ruffled skirts, and dragging something almost invisible away in her teeth, the way she gathered up the strings of handkerchiefs, only this time she gulped, and wriggled, and coughed a little, and then stalked over to sit smugly at Lily’s feet. Lily nodded at her, pleased. They hadn’t known Henrietta could eat spells.

  ‘My dear child, what?’ The magician was still smiling, although her lips had thinned a little. ‘I really don’t know what you mean. And I do hope the dear dog is not fierce. I really cannot have a savage dog in my house.’

  Lily could feel Henrietta pressed against her feet, growling. She wanted to talk, Lily could tell, but she wasn’t sure if she ought to. Lily wasn’t either. It was obvious now that the woman had been casting a spell on them as she walked down the corridor, one that made them feel dirty, and ashamed of their faded old room. But there was something strange about her. Lily had expected her to retaliate after they had torn away her spell, but she’d done nothing but smile. It was almost as if she hadn’t noticed. And what was she talking about her house for?

  ‘We seem to have missed out our introductions,’ the woman purred sweetly. ‘I am Lady Clara Fishe.’ She looked at them expectantly, and Georgie wriggled off the bed, and bobbed a little curtsey. Ungraciously, Lily bent her knees very slightly. She could curtsey properly, of course, but she simply didn’t want to. She wasn’t used to people trying to put spells on her. Mama had hardly ever bothered even to see Lily, and Georgie had grown out of practising on her little sister years ago.

  ‘Fishe with an e,’ Lady Clara added, as though this made a great deal of difference.

  Lily and Georgie only stared at her.

  Lady Clara sighed, politely irritated by their stupidity. ‘I am your aunt.’

  Lily and Georgie exchanged a surprised glance, and then Georgie shook her head. ‘We don’t have an aunt. My lady.’

  ‘Of course you do!’ Lady Clara stared at them, her pale eyes bulging a little. She had a glamour on, Lily realised. Her eyes weren’t as beautifully blue as they looked at first. The glamour had slipped, just a little, now that she was surprised. ‘You are my sister Nerissa’s children, aren’t you?’

  Lily swallowed, looking at the golden hair and pale eyes more closely. Mama. A taller, thinner, prettier Mama was glaring at them irritably. Lily’s heart seemed to beat more slowly, as the blood went suddenly cold inside her. Why had they never known they had an aunt? Their mother’s sister. What if Mama had sent her?

  ‘I had thought you were older, but you look just like her. You, particularly.’ She gestured at Georgie. ‘Lucy? And – oh, what did they name the other one? Prudence?’ She sniffed angrily. ‘Such a ridiculous name! As if a child of Nerissa’s would ever be prudent! After the way they behaved.’

  She didn’t know that their sisters were dead, Lily realised. That Mama had killed them, or so Lily and Georgie suspected. So she and Mama weren’t close. The ice inside her melted a little, and she began to see more clearly.

  She was suddenly quite a plain woman, Lily noticed, the glamour lost for a moment in her fury and disgust. Then it was as if a hand smoothed over her features, and they were sweetly regular again. But in that moment of forgetfulness, she had looked just like Mama. ‘And clearly you aren’t prudent at all. Showing off in some dreadful illusionist’s act. With the cream of London society in attendance. Sooner or later, someone will notice the resemblance.’ This time she kept hold of the glamour, but her pearly teeth were grinding.

  ‘We aren’t Lucy and Prudence,’ Lily said slowly. There seemed no point in denying it. ‘They’re dead.’

  Their aunt blinked. ‘Indeed. How sad,’ she added, not sounding sad in the least. ‘Then you are?’

  ‘Lily. And this is Georgiana.’

  Lady Clara sniffed. ‘Better than Prudence, I suppose. And where is my sister?’ She glanced around the room, as though she expected them to be hiding their mother in a cupboard somewhere. ‘Why on earth are you part of this – this disgusting charade? Has she finally run through all Peyton Powers’ money, is that it?’

  Lily felt Ge
orgie’s cold hand slip into hers, and she glanced up at her sister anxiously. Their aunt didn’t seem to know about Mama’s plot at all. She certainly didn’t look like someone who wanted to assassinate the queen – but then, successful assassins probably didn’t. ‘Mama is still at Merrythought,’ Lily admitted, clutching Georgie’s hand tightly. ‘We ran away.’ Somehow, she didn’t think their aunt would like them any less for admitting it. But it could still be a trap. Lily’s fingers buzzed with stored-up magic. She was ready…

  ‘You ran away. How very sensible…’ Lady Clara put her head on one side, and eyed them thoughtfully. ‘But the stage? Really?’

  ‘We didn’t intend to.’ Lily shrugged. ‘Mama was trying to manipulate Georgie’s magic. She was hurting her.’ It was almost true. ‘We had to get away. The theatre was accidental. But lucky,’ she added stubbornly.

  Lady Clara was turning pale, but she still had enough control of the glamour that she did it very prettily. She looked like a delicate china doll. ‘Nerissa is still using magic then?’ she whispered huskily. ‘How can she be?’

  Lily and Georgie exchanged a confused glance. They’d both felt the spell their aunt laid on them, that strange shame spell. And she definitely had a glamour on. ‘She hides it from the Queen’s Men, of course,’ Lily explained hesitantly. ‘But, Aunt,’ – it felt very strange to call this unknown woman their aunt – ‘you use magic.’

  ‘I do not.’ The colour rushed back into Aunt Clara’s face. She was a cheap wooden doll now, with bright circles of red on her cheeks. ‘Magic is wrong. It’s dangerous. Dirty. Her dear Majesty was quite right to forbid it. I forswore magic as a young girl, as your mother and father should have done.’

  ‘Maybe she doesn’t know she’s doing it?’ Georgie breathed in Lily’s ear. ‘Do you believe her?’

  Lily shrugged, a tiny little movement. She couldn’t tell. Could their aunt’s glamour be so closely woven into her now that she really didn’t realise it was there? And the spell that had made them so ashamed of their room, and their clothes – she could imagine that might be one her aunt wove around herself unconsciously. Her beautiful, expensive dress, the gloves, the society manners – appearances were her life. She could be weaving the spell out of her own disgust, and projecting it on to everyone around her without even knowing it.

  Still… Lily wasn’t completely convinced. How had their aunt managed to get away with wafting around in a cloud of tiny spells for years? Unless she was actually very, very clever?

  ‘Magic isn’t dirty,’ she muttered stubbornly.

  Her aunt swayed gracefully across the room towards her. ‘Oh but my dear, it is. Magic is wrong. Quite wrong. It has poisoned our bloodline, and we must cast it out.’

  Lily swallowed the anger that was rising inside her, bringing a tide of magic with it. She longed to throw it at this stupid woman, and wrap it all round her, so that she could see how beautiful it was.

  Henrietta pawed at her leg, and Lily picked her up. Aunt Clara smiled at the pug approvingly. ‘I see it does have company manners after all.’

  ‘And she is clearly mad,’ Henrietta muttered, pretending to nuzzle Lily’s cheek.

  Lily nodded a little. ‘Aunt, what did you mean before, about a savage dog in your house?’

  Aunt Clara looked around the room, and for a moment her strange hidden magic flashed out again, and Lily saw their refuge as she did. Peeling wallpaper, grubby boards, the damp stains – but all magnified tenfold. She shivered, and her aunt nodded. ‘You see? You can’t possibly stay here. I may not have agreed with my sister.’ She closed her eyes for a moment, and shuddered. ‘I hope never to see her again, for that matter. But I cannot have my nieces frequenting a common theatre. Especially when the resemblance is so distinct.’ She glanced at Georgie, and shuddered. ‘We can only hope that once you are properly dressed, no one will recognise you in Marlborough Square.’

  ‘You want us to live with you?’ Georgie whispered doubtfully.

  Aunt Clara nodded. ‘I’m offering you a home. But you must promise to behave properly.’ All of a sudden her society sweetness seemed to fall away, and she fixed them with a sharp, honest look. ‘You know quite well what I mean. No magic. None at all.’

  ‘We don’t do magic now,’ Lily told her, widening her eyes innocently. ‘Our act is just that, Aunt. It’s all an act. We could explain the illusions to you, but we’re sworn to secrecy.’

  Aunt Clara gave her a freezing glare. ‘The sooner we get you out of here the better. I’m ashamed to find you so forward. Who knows what sort of degenerate manners you’ve learned in this place.’

  ‘Lily, don’t,’ Georgie murmured in her ear, as Lily drew breath to answer back. ‘We need her, remember? She’s our magician. Our source. And she’s family. She must have some idea where Papa is, surely.’

  Lily let out an angry little sigh. Family didn’t necessarily mean safe. Daniel and Sam and the others in the theatre had taken better care of her and Georgie than Mama ever had, even if the theatre wasn’t respectable. She seethed, hating that she had to let their aunt say such things. But Georgie was right. They needed her.

  ‘You won’t send us back to our mother?’ she asked, wrapping her arms more tightly around Henrietta. ‘You won’t tell her where we are, even?’

  ‘I haven’t seen or spoken to her in more than ten years.’ Aunt Clara waved the idea away with a kid-gloved hand. ‘Why would I tell her?’

  ‘Why do you want us?’ Lily frowned. She felt better now they weren’t dancing around each other.

  Her aunt smiled tightly, and brushed invisible dust from the folds of her skirt. ‘I don’t. But you can’t stay here. It’s very obvious to me that you’re Nerissa’s daughters, and sooner or later someone else will recognise you. I have spent years – a very many years – making everyone forget my unfortunate family connections. I have no intention of letting my two little nieces rake it all up again.’

  ‘So you want us where you can see us?’

  Aunt Clara’s smile seemed to stretch around her teeth. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ Daniel muttered, a little later. Behind him, Sam stood twisting his cap in his huge hands. He looked like a caged bear next to Lady Clara, who was edging delicately away from him. He had the same bewildered, worried look as the poor dancing bear Lily had seen once when she and Henrietta were exploring the city. It was the only time she had come close to revealing her magic. She had wanted to heal the wretched creature, and tear apart the iron muzzle around its jaws. Instead she’d had to walk away feeling sick, with Henrietta trembling in her arms. Sam had that same air of helpless strength. He didn’t want them to go, but he couldn’t deny that the girls ought to be with family.

  ‘We should go. My husband and Louis – your cousin, girls – will be expecting me for luncheon.’

  ‘Now?’ Sam growled, more bear-like than ever.

  ‘Well, naturally,’ Aunt Clara replied in a frosted voice.

  ‘But the show – tonight… You haven’t found anyone to replace us. Shouldn’t we stay?’ Georgie protested, and then her voice died away as Aunt Clara’s magic spilled out over them. ‘I suppose not…’ she whispered.

  ‘We can change it,’ Daniel said dully. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll go back to the original act. Until I can find someone else.’

  ‘But you’ll come back? Visiting?’ Sam asked, and Lily caught his hand. Her own disappeared inside it.

  ‘That would not be appropriate,’ Aunt Clara snapped.

  Lily looked up at him. She didn’t even need magic to tell Sam silently that of course they would, appropriate or not. He nodded, the anxious creases round his eyes fading a little. ‘You won’t be too grand for us, then?’ he whispered to her, and she rolled her eyes. ‘We won’t be staying,’ she whispered back. ‘But she might know where Father is. We have to try.’

  Aunt Clara’s coachman was waiting in her landau outside the theatre, wearing a thick uniform coat and a top hat, and looking hot. The horse, a
beautiful grey with the shiniest of harnesses, looked bored, but he rolled a nervous eye towards Aunt Clara as she swept out of the theatre. Lily would almost have sworn he stood up straighter.

  ‘She’s like Mama, isn’t she?’ Georgie whispered, and Lily nodded. Their mother had terrified everyone at Merrythought. The whole house had been ruled by her moods. If she wanted quiet, the maids went about in stocking feet. It seemed that Aunt Clara ran her house on the same lines – but without magic.

  The girls climbed into the carriage silently. They’d only lived at the theatre for a few weeks, but it felt more like home to Lily than Merrythought ever had, and she hated to leave. Daniel and Sam were on the front steps, with Maria, and some of the artistes. Aunt Clara had flinched visibly at the sight of them, but Lily and Georgie didn’t care.

  ‘I’ve packed for you,’ Maria muttered, reaching up, and stuffing a battered carpetbag into Georgie’s arms. She glared suspiciously at Aunt Clara, who stared through her, as if she simply couldn’t see her. ‘Just a few little things. To help you keep your end up with Madam Fancy.’

  Henrietta barked loudly as the carriage trundled away – short, painful barks that made Lily’s skin crawl. Henrietta couldn’t do spells herself, but that noise came close to magic. The sad little crowd on the steps drew closer to each other, shivering, and Sam started forward, as though he meant to chase the carriage. The last Lily saw of them was Daniel pulling him back.

  The theatre was out of sight now, however much she craned her neck around the hood of the carriage. Lily swallowed, staring down at the darned gloves Georgie had insisted she put on. They were beautifully mended, but they were more darn than glove. ‘Aunt, how old is our cousin?’ she asked, wanting to distract herself.

  Aunt Clara frowned at her, and glanced meaningfully at the coachman. But then she seemed to decide that it was an innocent enough question.

  ‘Louis is nine,’ she answered. ‘It will be pleasant for him to have companions close to his own age. Well-behaved companions,’ she added, fixing Lily with a diamond stare.