"All right," he said. "I'll detail a couple of men to track down Jemmy Watt and his cronies to see what they might know. The timing is troubling, if nothing else. I wonder if we ought to maintain a closer watch on the dead zone as well."
"I can scratch up a few lads from the committee to keep an eye on it," Harry said.
The Committee Inquiring into the Dead Zones had been created by the Magician's Council at Harry's instigation. Meaning he'd badgered them until they'd given in. It hadn't taken much badgering, not after the fire and the zone's rapid expansion. They'd even put Harry in charge. Mostly to get him to shut up about it, Grey firmly believed. Harry had recruited a small army of young, scientifically minded magicians to conduct the actual inquiry.
"Excellent," Grey said. "My lads to investigate any link to the murder, yours to investigate the dead zone itself. We'll put our heads together as needed to see if there's any connect."
"Once a week, at least," Harry said, giving him a look.
"Yes, all right." It wasn't that Grey minded meeting with Harry, or discussing business. He wasn't fond of being tied to a schedule, was all. It surprised him a little, Harry insisting.
"I don't suppose you'd allow Pearl to fetch a few more bits of those beasties, would you?" Harry mused, poking the largest bit with the toe of his boot.
13
GREY TOOK IN a sharp breath. He wanted to forbid it, absolutely, but that wasn't rational. She hadn't taken any harm, had she? "Parkin, how do you feel?"
She blinked at his abrupt question, then her focus went away, turned inward for a moment as she considered. That pleased him, that she didn't give an automatic response.
"Fine," she said. "No different than usual, except for the nasty feeling from touching the things." She wiped her hands again with Grey's now-grimy handkerchief.
"What about when you were inside the zone?" Elinor asked. "Any shortness of breath or dizziness?"
Pearl shook her head. "I wasn't in there for very long."
"It doesn't take very long." Harry sounded grim. "For me, it don't. So if you do this, if you start feelin' woozy, come back straightaway. 'Cause we can't come in an' fetch you out."
"You don't have to do it," Elinor said. "Don't feel as if you must. Harry will do perfectly well with these pieces you've already brought out."
"I don't mind," Pearl said. "I'm happy to help, and if this is something I can do that others can't-" She shrugged. "Well, then I should, shouldn't I?"
"Plan out your route before you go in." Grey wasn't trying to delay her, exactly. He just wanted her to be sensible about this. "And wear your gloves. I know sorcerers don't, generally, but wear them. Perhaps the machines won't feel as nasty."
She nodded, pulling the gloves out of her pocket. "Is there something I can carry the machine parts in? A basket or box?"
Harry ran back to the carriage and reappeared with a large market basket. By then she was ready. Grey had pointed out the clearest route to the most promising machines, though he was sure she'd seen it for herself. She had her gloves on, the handkerchief in one hand, basket in the other. He held his breath and watched as she strode into the dead zone.
She walked to the nearest machine and dumped it into the basket. He let out a little puff of relief. She was following his suggestion, collecting as she traveled inward, so that if she got into trouble and had to retreat quickly, her expedition would still be a fruitful one.
The big piece with the flywheel, the pump handle, and the odd bit of cow bone went into the basket. Was it getting too heavy for her? Grey sucked in a quick breath of air as he bounced up to his toes, hands knotted together behind his back. It was all he could do to stay in place. He wanted to be there, beside her, protecting her.
But if he were, he'd fall flat on his face, and she would have to drag him out. Already she'd been in there longer, gone farther than he ever had. It annoyed him-and it filled him with pride. His apprentice had strength and courage. None of it was his doing, but still he basked in the reflected glory.
She was approaching the piece of machine they had agreed should be the farthest point in her sortie. Did she look pale? Was she struggling to breathe?
"She's doing fine." Elinor laid a hand on his shoulder, patted it.
Grey made himself breathe. "Of course she is. She is my apprentice, after all."
Elinor shook her head at him, as he intended. He saw with peripheral vision, for all his attention was focused on Pearl.
Just as she was reaching for the last machine, it moved, clicking bone and metal fangs at her, scrabbling in the muck.
Pearl yipped and jumped, falling on her bottom and spilling half of her broken machine collection.
"Pearl!" Grey felt Elinor's hand on his arm, holding him back. Not that she could physically restrain him, but she reminded him that he did not want Pearl to have to drag him out. "Leave it! Just leave it there and come out with what you have."
She scrambled to her feet and tossed everything back into the basket. "But it's still alive. Don't you want to investigate a live machine, Mr. Tomlinson?"
"Leave it," Harry shouted. "We've brought out live machines before, bought 'em from scavengers like your Jemmy Watt. They die. Like fish out o' water. Come out."
She didn't obey Harry, either. Instead, she studied the machine chomping its jaws at her, eyeing it as if plotting out an angle of attack.
"Parkin!" Grey bellowed. "Get your dainty backside out here now!"
She jerked around to stare at him, as if startled by his vehemence. But she didn't move.
"Now, Parkin," he shouted. "Or I will come in and fetch you, and you will have to drag me back out again."
That got her moving. She abandoned the snapping machine and picked her way back out of the dead zone, looking so pale and shaky the last few feet that Elinor stepped in to meet her, to assist her back to the living side of the line.
Which part of the threat had brought her out, Grey wondered. Him fainting, or her having to carry him out? He cast the thought aside as he grasped his apprentice's elbow and took the basket from her to hand to Harry.
"Did we not have this discussion only recently?" He kept his voice quiet, calm, and grim. "The one defining the role of master and apprentice?"
She looked up at him, her eyes going wider in apprehension. Good. "Yes, sir."
"So when I give you an order, what makes you think it is optional? That you have the right to argue with me about it?" His heart still pounded with fear and rage, but he let none of it show. How had he been caught so quickly in this trap?
"But-" She broke off at his uplifted brow and took a deep breath. "My own hardheadedness," she admitted. "I hate to stop before finishing what I started."
"Learn how. Sometimes a magician must continue through to the end of a spell for safety's sake. But sometimes, when a spell goes awry, it is better to break it off and back away. Stubbornness has no place in the practice of magic.
"And until you learn to tell when to stick it through and when to back away, you must listen to me and do what I tell you. This is not negotiable, madam. If you cannot, our contract is breached and you will no longer be my apprentice." Grey ignored the twinge from somewhere in his chest region at the thought of her absence. He would rather she be gone than at risk. He would make sure she had somewhere to go other than the streets of London's East End. He tried to ignore the stricken expression on Pearl's face, but that was more difficult.
"No, sir," she said hastily, her words choked. "I'll do what you say. Quick as anything. Just see if I don't. I promise. Swear on my mother's grave. My father's, too. Any grave you like. Just, please, don't dismiss me."
Her panic made him want to relent, assure her he would do no such thing, but he couldn't. If the threat kept her from any more rash behavior, it needed to stand. And he needed to be willing to carry it out.
Grey cleared his throat. "How are you feeling? Any dizziness? Shortness of breath?"
Now that the scold was over, Elinor approached. Harry was busy poking through the basket's contents with his wand.
"I had trouble catching my breath there at the end, and it made me dizzy. Knees went all wobbly." Pearl clenched and unclenched her hands. "I think the gloves helped, but my fingers still feel odd. Numb, as it were."
"Write it up in a report," Grey said. "When we get back to Wych Street. Be very specific about how you felt. Harry, did you time her?"
"Course I did. Set a magician's record-well, outside o' when Jax and Amanusa go in together. Pearl was in for five minutes and forty-nine seconds. Almost six full minutes."
"Note that down, too." Grey checked his own pocket watch. "It's rising ten o'clock. I need to get back to I-Branch, see what the lads have turned up."
"We need to get this lot to the lab as well." Harry hefted the basket and offered his arm to Elinor. She ignored him and came around to his other side to grasp the basket handle.