walk?"
"No," Seth said.
"Where are we?"
"Lichfield Towers."
"Are we still in London?"
"Yes. Highgate."
I knew Highgate had some big homes, but estates of the scale of this one weren't common. I could picture only two that I knew of, both behind high fences and rows of trees. Now that I thought about it, the front gate had looked familiar. We weren't too far from the cemetery.
Knowing my location buoyed me somewhat. If I did escape, finding my way back to Clerkenwell wouldn't be too difficult. The first thing I'd do when I returned to our basement Hell would be gather my few belongings and find a new place to live, somewhere where nobody knew me. Somewhere far away from Stringer and his gang.
I got to see very little of my surroundings, facing downward as I was. The floor tiles in the entrance hall were mostly covered by a crimson Oriental rug and the walls were paneled in dark wood. Ugly carried me up a grand staircase, his footfalls deadened by a carpet runner. Despite being daytime, the lack of windows meant it was dark in the stairwell without the chandelier lit. We continued up and up, Seth following behind us. We passed many doors, all closed, until we finally reached what must have been the highest room in the central tower.
Seth slipped past us and pushed open the door. The room was larger than I expected, with more furniture than I'd seen in one place for a long time. Still, it was bare compared to my childhood room in Tufnell Park. It contained only a small bed, a dresser, table and chair. There were no knickknacks on the table or dresser, no pictures adorning the deep red walls, and the bedspread was plain gray. Yet I loved the room. Once Ugly and Seth left, I would be alone inside four walls for the first time in an age. It was a luxury I'd feared never to experience again.
Not that I would experience it for long this time. If I could tie together the sheets and blankets, I wouldn't need Rapunzel's hair. I could simply attach one end to the bed and climb out the window. I glanced at the window and bit my lip. Perhaps not. It was a long way down.
Ugly dropped me onto the bed. I bounced on the mattress and had to suppress a smile before they saw it. The mattress was soft .
"How're we supposed to bathe him up here?" Ugly said.
"I don't need a bath."
"Smelled yourself lately?"
Seth looked me over and I made sure to keep my face dipped so that my hair hid it. "You stink worse than Gus."
"Oi!" Gus protested. "I ain't that bad."
"Besides, our orders are to get you bathed."
My face flushed and I was glad my hair covered it. My filth was a foolish thing to be ashamed of, but I couldn't help it. My mother had been a stickler for cleanliness, scrubbing my skin with carbolic soap and my fingernails with a slice of lemon every day. She would have a fit if she saw the grime that had been deeply ingrained into my nails and skin now.
"Fetch a washstand and bowl of water," Ugly—Gus—said.
"It won't be enough," Seth said. "The water will be black before he's even half clean."
"Take him to the bathroom and fill up the tub."
"The bathroom's two levels down. Besides, Death didn't tell us to take him to the bathroom . He said to bring him here."
"Then what'll we do?"
"A jug of water and a bowl will do me well enough," I said, sitting up. "There's no need to bother with a bath."
Seth jerked his head at Gus. "You get it. I'll strip those rags off him."
"No!"
They both blinked at my vehemence. "Why not?" Gus asked. "You ain't got nothing we ain't seen before. Only smaller." He chuckled as his gaze focused on my crotch.
"You'll be perfectly safe with us," Seth said, somewhat soothingly. "Neither of us care what you look like."
They would if they knew I looked like a girl. "I've got scars. I don't like folk seeing them."
"Me too." Gus began to unbutton his jacket. "I'll show you mine first. Ain't no reason to hide scars. Shows you're a fighter."
"Or careless, in your case." Seth's eyes gleamed with humor. I
"No," Seth said.
"Where are we?"
"Lichfield Towers."
"Are we still in London?"
"Yes. Highgate."
I knew Highgate had some big homes, but estates of the scale of this one weren't common. I could picture only two that I knew of, both behind high fences and rows of trees. Now that I thought about it, the front gate had looked familiar. We weren't too far from the cemetery.
Knowing my location buoyed me somewhat. If I did escape, finding my way back to Clerkenwell wouldn't be too difficult. The first thing I'd do when I returned to our basement Hell would be gather my few belongings and find a new place to live, somewhere where nobody knew me. Somewhere far away from Stringer and his gang.
I got to see very little of my surroundings, facing downward as I was. The floor tiles in the entrance hall were mostly covered by a crimson Oriental rug and the walls were paneled in dark wood. Ugly carried me up a grand staircase, his footfalls deadened by a carpet runner. Despite being daytime, the lack of windows meant it was dark in the stairwell without the chandelier lit. We continued up and up, Seth following behind us. We passed many doors, all closed, until we finally reached what must have been the highest room in the central tower.
Seth slipped past us and pushed open the door. The room was larger than I expected, with more furniture than I'd seen in one place for a long time. Still, it was bare compared to my childhood room in Tufnell Park. It contained only a small bed, a dresser, table and chair. There were no knickknacks on the table or dresser, no pictures adorning the deep red walls, and the bedspread was plain gray. Yet I loved the room. Once Ugly and Seth left, I would be alone inside four walls for the first time in an age. It was a luxury I'd feared never to experience again.
Not that I would experience it for long this time. If I could tie together the sheets and blankets, I wouldn't need Rapunzel's hair. I could simply attach one end to the bed and climb out the window. I glanced at the window and bit my lip. Perhaps not. It was a long way down.
Ugly dropped me onto the bed. I bounced on the mattress and had to suppress a smile before they saw it. The mattress was soft .
"How're we supposed to bathe him up here?" Ugly said.
"I don't need a bath."
"Smelled yourself lately?"
Seth looked me over and I made sure to keep my face dipped so that my hair hid it. "You stink worse than Gus."
"Oi!" Gus protested. "I ain't that bad."
"Besides, our orders are to get you bathed."
My face flushed and I was glad my hair covered it. My filth was a foolish thing to be ashamed of, but I couldn't help it. My mother had been a stickler for cleanliness, scrubbing my skin with carbolic soap and my fingernails with a slice of lemon every day. She would have a fit if she saw the grime that had been deeply ingrained into my nails and skin now.
"Fetch a washstand and bowl of water," Ugly—Gus—said.
"It won't be enough," Seth said. "The water will be black before he's even half clean."
"Take him to the bathroom and fill up the tub."
"The bathroom's two levels down. Besides, Death didn't tell us to take him to the bathroom . He said to bring him here."
"Then what'll we do?"
"A jug of water and a bowl will do me well enough," I said, sitting up. "There's no need to bother with a bath."
Seth jerked his head at Gus. "You get it. I'll strip those rags off him."
"No!"
They both blinked at my vehemence. "Why not?" Gus asked. "You ain't got nothing we ain't seen before. Only smaller." He chuckled as his gaze focused on my crotch.
"You'll be perfectly safe with us," Seth said, somewhat soothingly. "Neither of us care what you look like."
They would if they knew I looked like a girl. "I've got scars. I don't like folk seeing them."
"Me too." Gus began to unbutton his jacket. "I'll show you mine first. Ain't no reason to hide scars. Shows you're a fighter."
"Or careless, in your case." Seth's eyes gleamed with humor. I
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