The Wizard of London Read Online Free PDF Page B

people die. It was horrid and sad, but I
didn’t fuss, because Nkumba and Papa and Mummy were worked nearly to
bones and needed me to be good.”
    Nan’s
eyes widened again. “Wot else y’see?” she whispered,
impressed in spite of herself.
    After
that, the two children traded stories of two very different sorts of jungles.
Despite its dangers, Nan thought that Sarah’s was the better of the two.
    She
learned other things as well; that “Mems’ab” was a completely
remarkable woman, for she had a Sikh, a Gurkha, two Moslems, two Buddhists, and
assorted Hindus working in peace and harmony together—“and Mummy
said in her letter that it’s easier to get leopards to herd sheep than that!”
Mem’sab was by no means a fool; the Sikh and the Gurkha shared guard
duty, patrolling the walls by day and night. One of the Hindu women was one of
the “ayahs,” who took care of the smallest children; the rest of
the motley assortment were servants and even teachers.
    She
heard many stories about the remarkable Grey, who really did act as
Sarah’s guardian, if Sarah was to be believed. Sarah described times when
she had inadvertently gotten lost; she had called frantically for Grey, who was
allowed to fly free, and the bird had come to her, leading her back to familiar
paths. Grey had kept her from eating some pretty but poisonous berries by
flying at her and nipping her fingers until she dropped them. Grey alerted the
servants to the presence of snakes in the nursery, always making a patrol
before she allowed Sarah to enter. And once, according to Sarah, when she had
encountered a lion on the path, Grey had flown off and made sounds like a young
gazelle in distress, attracting the lion’s attention before it could
scent Sarah. “She led it away, and didn’t come back to me until it
was too far away to get to me before I got home safe,” the little girl
claimed solemnly, “Grey is very clever.” Nan didn’t know
whether to gape at her or laugh; she couldn’t imagine how a mere bird
could be intelligent enough to talk, much less act with purpose.
    Nan
had breath to laugh with, nowadays, thanks to baskets that held more than
bread. The food she found in there, though distinctly odd, was always good, and
she no longer felt out of breath and tired all the time. She had stopped
wondering and worrying about why “Mem’sab” took such an
interest in her, and simply accepted the gifts without question. They might
stop at any moment; she accepted that without question, too.
    The
only thing she couldn’t accept so easily was the manservant’s eerie
mental silence.
    But
it didn’t unnerve her as it once had. She wanted desperately to know
why
she couldn’t sense him, but it didn’t unnerve her. If she
couldn’t read
him
, she could read the way he walked and acted,
and there was nothing predatory about him with regard to herself or Sarah.
    Besides,
Sarah trusted him. Nan had the feeling that Sarah’s trust wasn’t
ever given lightly.
    Or
wrongly.
    ***
    “And
how is Sarah’s pet street sparrow?” Frederick asked, as Isabelle
brooded at the window that overlooked the garden.
    “Karamjit
thinks she is Talented,” Isabelle replied, watching Sarah chatter
animatedly to her friend as they took the empty basket back to the kitchen in
the evening gloom. “I don’t sense anything, but she’s quite
young, and I doubt she can do anything much beyond a few feet.”
    Her
husband sat down in a chair beside the window, and she glanced over at him.
“There’s something about all of this that is worrying you,”
he said.
    “I’m
not the precognitive, but—yes. We have a sudden influx of Talents. And it
might be nothing more than that we are the only place to train young Talents,
whereas there are dozens who are schooling their Elemental Magicians. Still,
my
training says that coincidences among the Talented are virtually unheard of,
and an ingathering of Talents means that Talents will be needed.” There,
it was out in