Boots for the Gentleman (12 page)

Frolic dug through the debris until he found and lit the candle. Holding it in his hand, he scanned around, making a clicking noise with his tongue. Beneath the shredded blanket, he found Toerag puffed up to twice his size. Frolic quickly scooped him up and put him inside his coat.

Querry heard movement in the hall: heavy boots failing to walk softly. “Frolic,” he whispered. “We have to go. Now. The window.”

“But Tosser!”

“She’ll find us.”

“No!”

“Frolic, now!”

Flinging up the mattress, Frolic retrieved the other cat from the corner of the bed frame. She yowled miserably as he tucked her away beside her brother and buttoned his coat. Meanwhile Querry secured his grapple to the sill and unlatched the window. “Go,” he hissed at Frolic, who was trying to tuck his coat into the waistband of his trousers. After Frolic made it halfway, Querry swung his leg over and hurried down the rope. The questionable wood splintered, though, and they both fell the last six feet.

As he dusted himself off, Querry noticed a group of men stationed in front of the next building. Unlike the pack of thugs, they looked sober and well dressed. Already they approached Querry and Frolic, their hands disappearing inside their coats.

“Frolic, run!” Querry yelled.

They sped through the alleyways, slipping on the snow. Querry pushed Frolic in front of him, trying his best to shield Frolic’s shoulders with his arm. He cursed the easily followed trails they left in the snow. No matter what a lead they gained, their pursuers quickly found them. Querry swore, his lungs burning, running as hard as he could. Their only hope would be to reach a crowded area, where many footprints would obscure their tracks. For once, though, Rushport was quiet, desolate. The few whores desperate enough to venture out huddled close to the warmth of the bricks, clutching their shawls.

Daring a glance over his shoulder, Querry counted four men, each holding a shiny new pistol in his hand. He couldn’t imagine why they held their fire, unless they worried over damaging Frolic. No one would give a second thought to a back-shot cat burglar. Now and then Querry swore he saw someone else, a lone figure following at a distance, though he had no time to wonder or observe it.

Block after block of quiet houses stretched before them. Candles burned in a few windows, but most stood dark as tombs. The narrow alleys between them led only to dead ends. Querry pushed on, thighs burning and trembling. He almost envied Frolic, running beside him without so much as quickened breath. And in fact, Querry felt sure the doll could go much faster.

“Frolic,” he panted. “Run on ahead. Find a place to hide and I’ll—”

He waited for his coughing spell to pass, and continued. “I’ll hold them off, catch up later.”

“No, Querry!”

“Frolic, please!”

“You’ll be killed!”

“I won’t,” Querry lied. Without the blessings of much luck, he’d be gunned down. He was worthless to these men. But he wouldn’t let them take Frolic. “Go. Find Reg. Go to Reg.”

Skidding to a halt, Frolic said, “I have no purpose, no reason to live! And without you, I won’t belong to anyone. I’ll be completely lost.” He covered his face with his hands and started to sob, just as four dark shapes turned the corner.

Urging him forward, practically dragging him, Querry said, “We must keep going, Frolic.”

“I can’t go on alone. I was alone so long, Querry!”

“I won’t leave you.”

“Never?”

“Never. I swear it. But we must go. We can’t engage in another fight. Especially not a gunfight. If those men don’t get us, the police will! We’ve got to make it to the factories. Then we can blend in and lose them.”

“Get on my back, Querry.”

“What?”

“I can run faster than you. I can lose them.”

“But, I’m almost twice your size!”

“Querry,” Frolic pleaded. “I’m strong. You know that I am.”

Though he hated the idea of being the saved rather than the savior, Querry’s instinct for self-preservation couldn’t argue, and he climbed onto Frolic’s back, crossing his ankles over Frolic’s belt and holding his shoulders. The doll began to run, and the lazily falling snowflakes changed to comet-like blurs. The rushing air hit Querry’s face like a wall. His eyes streamed, and his lungs stung. Frolic ran at least as fast as a colt in the springtime, but so smoothly that Querry didn’t bounce against his back. It felt like gliding, flying. Querry had always fantasized about flight. Not even the cats showed distress, but poked their smoke-colored noses out of Frolic’s coat curiously.

Frolic sprinted tirelessly, block after block, mile after mile. The shouts of the curious were left far behind before Querry could process their words. In no time, throngs of factory workers appeared. Frolic slowed to a walk, and Querry checked behind them, seeing no sign of the strange men. He hopped down, and soon the mass of people absorbed them. As soon as he could, Querry ducked behind a cart heaped with scrap metal. It blocked the opening to a cinderblock corridor: a storage area for more refuse and also an excellent hiding place. Querry lowered his goggles over his eyes and switched to the night-vision lenses. He and Frolic navigated the junk piles until they reached the wall at the back, and then they leaned as Querry caught his breath.

“You know,” he said when he’d recovered, “I truly thought they’d forgotten us. I thought they’d just let us be. Let us live. Those men were well trained and well equipped. Someone put up some money to find you.”

“I still can’t imagine why they’d want me.”

Querry could. “Frolic,” he said firmly. “No matter who gets a hold of you, no matter what they say, just remember that you’re mine. I found you, and nothing can change that.”

“Yes, Querry. I know. But what will they try to do with me?”

“They don’t even know you’re what they’re after. I say we keep on letting everyone think you’re a faerie. People are afraid of faeries. They let them be.”

“I don’t even know what a faerie is.”

“Nobody really does.”

“They destroyed our home,” Frolic said, his back sliding down the wall until he crouched on the ground.

“It was just a rented room,” Querry said, joining Frolic. “Nothing special.”

“It was special to me. I’ve never had anywhere to be.”

“Me neither. I’m sorry, Frolic. I’ll find us another place.”

“Where will we go until then?”

“I can only think of one option.”

R
OSEBERRY
S
QUARE
was new and modern: a series of tall, thin, brick buildings circling a statuesque bronze goddess. Above her head she held an enormous glass orb. It glowed with gaslight to rival the moon, giving the square a striking semblance to a group of rakish men standing around a fire. All of the buildings looked identical, save for the different colors of their shutters and doors. Querry and Frolic crept quietly toward a house decorated with burgundy woodwork.

Since the work of the widow named Mrs. Spaulding was as much to report to Mrs. Whitney as to take Reg’s suits to the laundry, prepare his bath, and cook his breakfast, Querry lead Frolic around the back of the building and picked the simple lock on the cellar door. They tiptoed past Reg’s impressive wine collection, the generators that heated his water, and up the stairs, where Querry cracked the door to the kitchen. Mrs. Spaulding washed the china, tossed some wood into the potbelly stove, and set some dough to rise on the windowsill. Then the hunched old woman retired to her small room beside the pantry. The two thieves crossed the white tiles and ascended to the first floor.

The houses of the square had been designed specifically for wealthy bachelors, and contained everything such men would require in narrow rooms stacked high. This level housed a thin foyer, a gentleman’s study, and a formal dining room in which Reg could host his obligatory small dinner parties. Querry and Frolic found him at the table, relaxing with his shirt untucked and leafing through the daily news as he picked at his food. Adept at sneaking as they were, he never noticed them standing in the doorway until Tosser mewled loudly. Jumping to his feet, Reg’s silverware clanged on the marble floor.

“Querry!” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing here? You have to leave!”

“Relax,” Querry said, coming forward. “Nobody knows we’re here.”

“I don’t care! You know what kind of mess this could make! Mrs. Spaulding—”

“She’s asleep. I made sure.”

“You have to go, Querry!”

Putting both of his hands on Reg’s shoulders, Querry said, “We’re in trouble. We have nowhere else to turn.”

Reg looked at Querry’s battered knuckles. “Please don’t drag me into this. I can’t get involved. The Whitneys are a public family. You staying here is impossible.”

“You’d really turn me out when I need you most? I mean that little to you?”

Shrugging off Querry’s hands, Reg dropped dejectedly into his upholstered chair and leaned his forehead against his palm. With a swipe of his other hand, he indicated the leftovers. “Sit down. Help yourself to some dinner. That woman always cooks for a regiment.”

Frolic tugged his coat from his waistband and the cats landed softly. They began to explore, sniffing and yowling. Reg’s head crumpled even closer to his table linens. Querry removed his coat and sat down, his back to the cheery fire in the hearth. The food looked wonderful and smelled better: field peas in butter sauce, roasted parsnips speckled with herbs, two kinds of dinner rolls, cream soup in a silver tureen, a row of stuffed pigeons on a platter, some sardines and a rabbit. Safe now, he felt the loss of his dinner acutely and helped himself to a glass of sherry. As he ate, Frolic relayed to Reg the events of the evening in a dramatic way, using his hands to demonstrate how he’d vanquished the thugs. Querry grew less anxious as his belly filled, and his chapped skin warmed. Reg’s presence soothed him, always had. After a quarter of an hour the three men conversed merrily as they enjoyed the wines with an apple tart.

“Mrs. Spaulding has been hinting about a visit to her daughters in the North,” Reg said. “The youngest just had a son. I suppose I could send her off for a few weeks. You’ll still have to make yourself scarce when the housemaids come ’round on Mondays and Thursdays.”

“Thanks, Reg,” Querry said. Content and a little tipsy, he already envisioned certain advantages to living in his friend’s house. “We’ll stay out of sight, and we won’t be any trouble.”

“You can’t stay forever,” Reg said. “And you can’t go back to that boarding house. Thimbleroy or whoever searched your room will be looking for you. What will you do?”

The thief considered, though the matter didn’t feel particularly pressing at the moment. For the next month or so, he had shelter, plenty of food, and the company of his lost love. “Hard to say. Save some money. Look for a new place eventually.”

“You’re infuriating! You two won’t be safe in the city! They’ll be looking for you and Frolic!”

“I’ll have to make sure they don’t find us, won’t I?”

“Querry, when are you going to face reality and grow out of this bugger-the-world phase?” Reg said, slapping the table so hard that the dishes shook.

“When the world stops trying to bugger me!” Querry’s voice rose with his anger. “What reality do you want me to face, Reg? The rest of my life in a factory? A dull wife and a brood of children I can’t feed? No, thank you! I’ll take a few years of freedom over thirty of misery.”

“And you’re so happy living in that little room, with the noose just a few steps ahead of you?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Well, you could apprentice yourself. Learn a trade.”

“The trades are dying out, Reg. Nobody’s going to wait a month for a hand-carved chair when a factory cranks out a hundred a day. And I won’t take orders and sweep up at a blacksmith or a bakery. Why should I?”

“Has it occurred to you, Querry, that it’s not just you any longer? You’re putting Frolic in danger now too.”

“Nonsense. Nobody knows what he is or where he came from. They think he’s a faerie. How in the world will anyone ever find out—”

All of Querry’s organs felt like they melted. Cold sweat sprang from his pores.

“What is it?” Frolic asked. “Querry?”

“The book,” Querry panted. “It wasn’t there. They got a hold of it, and my notes in the back. They’ll break the code. Fuck me, they’ll know everything!” He leapt to his feet, pacing and rubbing the back of his neck. “What am I going to do?”

“What book?” Reg asked, standing also. “What are you talking about?”

Coming around behind Frolic, Querry gripped his arms possessively. “Reg, I need you to help me. Help me, and I’ll never ask you for anything again. I’ll go away and leave you, if you want. I’ll never bother you again.”

“You’re scaring me, Querry. Tell me what’s going on. What is this book?”

“When I found Frolic, he had a book with him. It was all written in this weird code. That’s why I asked you for the ink and paper, so I could try to translate it.”

“And what’s in this book?” Reg asked nervously.

“Everything!” Querry shouted. “Everything about how he was made, how he works. He wanted me to figure out what he was for. Except I never made it to the end, never found out. But Thimbleroy will! He’ll have teams of people working on it!”

“And now he’ll know that I’m what he’s looking for,” Frolic said.

Nuzzling his face into the top of Frolic’s hair, Querry said, “I’ll protect you. I’ll find a way, I promise.”

“I love you, Querry,” the doll said in a shaky voice.

Querry looked up and met Reg’s eyes. It was time he knew. “I love you, too, Frolic.”

Eyes wide, Reg stammered, “You, you mean—”

“I’m not ashamed,” Querry said. “He’s no different than you or I, Reg. No different in any way.”

“Oh, Querry. How could you?”

“We haven’t done anything wrong. We make each other happy. What does it matter if we were made differently?”

“It matters, and you know it,” Reg said.

“Not to me,” Querry said. “And it hasn’t changed the way I feel about you. I wanted you from the time we were boys, before I even knew what I was feeling. I love you, Reg, and I always will. And I need your help. Please.”