Sophia shook her head. “So you never tell the truth?”
“No, I do. I tell you the truth.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes.”
“I do,” Theo insisted. “About the important things, I do.”
“Why? What’s the difference?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know—with you I don’t mind.”
She looked at the flickering candle. “You didn’t tell me why you couldn’t go into Nochtland.”
“I should have, I know. But you could have asked me. You can ask me anything.”
“All right,” Sophia said. “Tell me about your hand. How did you find out about the Mark of Iron? You told Calixta you hurt it when your house fell apart. I’m guessing that’s not true.”
Theo turned so that he was facing the pile of clothes on the table. “Sure, I’ll tell you the truth about it,” he said, grinning. “But first, let’s eat.” He produced a loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, and a basket of figs. “I actually paid for these.”
Sophia smiled. “Thanks. That makes it taste a lot better.”
He lit another candle and pushed the clothing aside. Sophia had once again forgotten how much time had passed since her last meal, and the two of them fell on the bread and figs, washing it all down with milk from the glass bottle.
Theo wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as she settled in her chair. “Okay. First, you’ve got to understand that outside of the Triple Eras, especially in the northern Baldlands, it’s no big deal to have the Mark of Iron. There are raiders who even say they’ve got more iron than they actually do—that’s how proud of it they are. Course, that can get you into trouble. I knew a raider named Ballast who claimed every bone in his body was made of iron. Well, you can imagine there were one or two other raiders who were happy to prove him wrong.” He chuckled. “Dangerous to boast about something like that.
“When I was still in Sue’s gang—I couldn’t have been more than five—we stopped in a town called Mercury where almost everyone had the Mark. The town doctor had a magnet as big as a window that he used to figure out who had what made of iron. He wasn’t going to cut into someone—do surgery—before he knew what was iron and what wasn’t.”
Sophia leaned forward. “I can’t believe it’s so common there.”
Theo nodded. “Oh, yeah. Real common. But the doctor wasn’t. He was one of our customers, that’s how Sue knew about him. It was one of her books that gave him the magnet idea in the first place.”
“She had books?” Sophia had difficulty imagining books among raiders and gangs.
“That’s mostly how she supported us. See, it’s not like New Occident, where all the books are from your time or before. In the Baldlands, there’s books from every year you could think of. Every ‘era,’ like they used to say before the Disruption. Sue was a book peddler—we’d buy books in one town, then sell them in the next, buy more, move on.”
Sophia bit her lip. “There must have been wonderful books.”
“Yeah, there were. That’s how I learned to read. There’s all kinds of things you can get from books. How do you think I learned about maps?” He raised his eyebrows. “Well, the doctor bought a book from who-knows-when that talked about iron bones and magnets. He owed Sue a favor or two. I guess she’d already noticed things about my hand—she didn’t say, but maybe she’d noticed it was stronger than the other one. She paid the doctor a whole dollar to have me checked for the Mark of Iron. Just so I’d know. She took that good care of me.” He played with a crust of bread. “So he did, found my hand had the Mark.”
“Nothing else?”
“Nope. Just my hand. Sue lectured me then; told me I shouldn’t boast about having the Mark because it would get me into trouble, and I had to be careful who knew, because in some parts people thought badly of it.” Theo shook his head. “Well, it wasn’t long before I was ignoring Sue’s advice. I let it get to my head that I had the Mark, and I started using my hand for all kinds of stupid stunts. Though the first scar was for a good cause.” He showed her the edge of his hand. “One of the kids had fallen into a crevice and I kept him from falling by pulling him up by his bootlace. Cut clean through the skin, but the iron bones held.” He laughed. “After that, the reasons weren’t always as good.”
“So what you said to Calixta never happened?”
“Nah, course not. I told you—I never knew my parents. But I wasn’t going to tell her about the Mark, was I? No way to know what she’d think of it. It’s what I’m saying—best not to get pinned down by telling the truth.”
“I guess I see what you mean,” Sophia allowed. It was clear now that Theo didn’t intend any harm with his innumerable small lies. She could see how there were sometimes occasions when it was useful, but she couldn’t imagine them. And then she could. Right now, she realized with surprise, we’re going to lie to get into the palace. We’re going to lie about who we are. And I don’t care.
Sophia found herself looking across the table at her open notebook, the drawing of Theo dressed in feathers.
As if reading her thoughts, he asked, “So you never said. Is that drawing of me?”
She blushed, grateful for the darkness in the little tree house. “It is.”
“You have a good memory—that’s exactly what the costume looked like.”
“No, I drew it then. The day I saw you.”
Theo’s eyes opened wide with surprise. “You did?”
Sophia nodded. “You know when you went to my house to find Shadrack?” Now he nodded. “I wasn’t home because I’d gone to the wharf. I looked for you.”
Theo wore a strange expression. “What do you mean?”
“I’d seen you that once, in the cage. I went back to the circus to see if I could get you out. I know—it’s stupid.” Sophia laughed to hide her embarrassment. “I planned to rescue you.”
For a moment he stared at her. Then a slow smile spread across his face. “Well, thanks.”
“But I didn’t rescue you!”
Theo, still smiling, reached across for the last piece of bread. “We should put the candles out soon,” he said, “so people in the other houses don’t know we’re here.”
30
The Eclipse
1891, June 30: 16-Hour 50
Just as the variety of time-keeping methods in the Triple Eras gradually gave way to the nine-hour clock, so the variety of calendars gave way to the lunar calendar. Festivities were organized around the calendar, and today no festival is greater than that reserved for the occasional lunar or solar eclipse. These are often marked with costume balls, in which the revelers cover their faces just as the sun and moon “cover” theirs.
—From Veressa Metl’s Cultural Geography of the Baldlands
SOPHIA AND THEO spent the following day in the tree house. They descended twice to buy food but otherwise remained high in the bare branches, gazing out through the windows at the vast city and wondering what the night would bring. Perhaps it was Theo’s easy banter, or perhaps it was the sense that the time for nervousness had passed; Sophia felt a steady calm descend as the day wore on. She knew what lay ahead and she was not afraid. When dusk fell, they began donning their costumes.
Sophia had to admit, examining herself beside Theo in the cracked mirror, that they were nearly unrecognizable. The high shoes he had stolen for them added several inches to their heights. Theo’s feathered mask covered his entire face, and the dark cloak made him seem bulkier than he was. His bandaged hand was concealed by the feathery gauntlet. Sophia’s gown cascaded around her in a rush of rippling silk blanketed with fern leaves. Fortunately, the fronds were thick enough to conceal the bulky shape of her pack, which she wore under her gown, strapped at the back of her waist like a bustle. She had no mask, but the sage-green veil powdered with glitter was enough. Looking at herself in the mirror, she could see only the outline of her face.