A Matter of Magic by Patricia Wrede Read Free Book Online Page A

old Tom out of a tog and kicks, I’d say,” Jack muttered.
    “Quietly, my dear.” Dan’s voice was velvet-smooth. Jack shot him a glance of mingled fear and resentment, but he did not speak again. Dan gave Kim a look of polite inquiry.
    “I got business with Tom,” Kim told him.
    “Really.” Dan’s eyes shifted to the bundled clothes dangling fromKim’s right hand, then back to her face. “Not back on the sharping lay by any chance, are you, dear boy?”
    “No, nor I ain’t goin’ to be, neither.”
    “I can give you a better price than Tom, if you’ve any trinkets to dispose of,” the man persisted.
    Kim suppressed a scowl. Dan had been trying to get a handle on her for a long time. He was obviously hoping that greed would get the better of her sense. She shook her head. “I ain’t got nothin’ in your line, Dan.”
    “Pity. You’re quite sure—”
    The creaking of the stairs interrupted as Tom Correy came down them, followed closely by the doorkeeper. Tom scowled at the gin drinkers, but his face lit up when he saw Kim. “Kim, lad! Where’ve you been keeping yourself?”
    “Around,” Kim said with deliberate vagueness. She didn’t grudge Tom the knowledge, but there were too many interested and not entirely friendly ears present to overhear.
    “You come for another coat?”
    “What’d I say?” Jack muttered.
    “Quiet, you,” Tom said without looking. “It’s my shop and I’ll run it my way, see? And the boy looks like he could do with a jacket.”
    “I ain’t after one,” Kim said hastily.
    Jack snorted and gulped at his cup. Tom looked at her. “What, then?”
    “I got some stuff for you to look at. Here.” Kim crouched and undid the bundle.
    “Where’d you come by this?” Tom said, studying the untidy pile with disfavor.
    “Got it off a bingo-boy up by Spitalfields,” Kim said glibly. “What’ll you give me for ’em?”
    Tom knelt and examined the clothes more closely. “They ain’t much.”
    “Those’re good boots,” Kim pointed out quickly. “Some people would give three shillings just for the boots.”
    “Three shillings? You must think I’m as lushy as that lot,” Tom said, waving towards the table. “I’ll give you a bender for the whole pile.”
    “Sixpence ain’t enough,” Kim said stubbornly. “Two shillings ninepence.”
    Dan and his cohorts soon lost interest in the bargaining and began a muttered conversation of their own, punctuated by frequent passage of the gin bottle. Kim watched them warily from the corner of her eye while she dickered. Jack was thoroughly castaway, and one or two of the others looked at least a little lushy. Dan, however, was being careful not to get the malt above water; though he passed the bottle and refilled cups with a comradely air, he himself drank little. And several times, Kim saw him watching her.
    By the time she had finished her bargaining and collected one-and-sixpence from Tom, Kim was worried. She bade Tom a cordial goodbye and the drinkers a polite one, then stepped out into the cool, damp night. As the door closed behind her, she took a deep breath to clear the gin fumes from her head. The fog had thickened; the street-lamp by the shopfront was a dim smear of yellow light, blurred by the veil of moisture in the air.
    Whistling softly, Kim started down Petticoat Lane. Half a block from Tom’s, she cut sharply to the left. She hunted along the backs of the shops until she found one with a drainpipe she could climb, then shinnied up it. She crept to the front of the building and lay flat, peering down at the street.
    A moment later a man came skulking down the street from the direction of Tom’s shop. She couldn’t make out his face in the foggy darkness, but his silhouette was stocky and he moved like the man who had been keeping the door for Dan and his friends. He hurried by, heading toward the docks.
    Kim stayed where she was for a while, considering. Dan had sent the doorkeeper after her, but why? She