c’est drôlel You want the Prime’s share? You haven’t the patience. Mon dieu, our houseful of little changed ones prove you have not the patience. A few short human years—what is that to us? A blink, no more—and Adelaide’s sisters could have been yours for breeding. To start your own empires, peut-être? They’ve many years of blood in them, these girls; many chances of bearing true kin. Can’t you see the benefit in that? Our numbers increased with children born, not simply made? Reinvigorating our bloodlines, les gars. Extending it, drawing power direct from the fountainhead. From our newborns right back to Adam’s kin, comprends? Linked all the way back to the source.”
I didn’t hear the men’s responses. My eyelids drooped; I pulled a chenille blanket up to still my shivering. If the past few evenings were any indication, Mister Pérouse would want another round with me before morning. I needed sleep more than information.
By the end of the week my master looked healthier, stronger. Ten years younger, more than fit to squash Jacques and Théo if they razzed him without the protection of three inches of oak. His back was straight, step springy, as he set me in the chambermaid’s closet, and told me to get cleaned up for school.
“You must learn to speak properly, Adelaide, if you are to raise our child to prominence. I will not have my heir speaking like a pecore for all his mother’s failings. Fine soaps will only scrub so much of the yokel from you, chèrie.”
I didn’t want to wash, I wanted to go home. But the windows were blocked, the outer doors bolted; my freedom subject to Mister Pérouse’s whim. And for the first time since my arrival he fancied I could be let out. I could see other people. So I rubbed myself raw with the soap and sponge he provided, then slipped on a uniform so misshapen a hundred other girls might’ve worn it before. I folded my nightie and stuffed it beneath the low pallet I’d sleep on when my master had no other use for me. The shift was soiled and smelled rotten, but it was my last tie with Ma. I didn’t want to look at it, couldn’t bear to throw it away.
I don’t know what happened to Harley’s clothes. Like me, he was now dressed in a drab copy of the other children’s outfits. Unlike me, he looked content to be so.
“You okay?” His neck was swaddled with bandages, and the sun was fading from his skin. Veins were visible in his eyelids and temples and he smelled of sour milk. I brushed my hand through his hair, trying to ignore the hints of grease I found there, and pulled him close. He returned my embrace quickly then stepped away, too embarrassed to be seen hugging his sister with so many eyes watching. The other children were too occupied with their tasks to notice. Some recited poems in my master’s language; some tidied the beds, then arranged folding screens to separate sleep and work areas; some clambered high up the walls, scaling the bricks from gallery to gallery under Doctor Jeffries’ watchful eye. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see any ropes. Catching my perplexed gaze, Harley shrugged and rubbed his hand along his jaw, so much like his father it hurt.
“Mister told us about Ma,” he said. “Beth and Miah ain’t took it so good—Miss Arianne gave them medicines so’s they’d calm down. They’re a lot better now, though.”
“And you?” I asked.
Again, that shrug. Who was this boy? The Harl I knew got fired up if he didn’t get his way; if he thought Ma spent more time with us girls than with him. And now that she’s dead? A shrug. It didn’t make sense.
“My gums is sore,” he said, almost sheepishly.
“Give us a look.” To my surprise, he peeled back his lips and opened his mouth. I couldn’t trust what I saw: it wasn’t bright enough where we were standing. I drew Harl over to the first long dining table, sat him close to the lamp. The results were the same.
His incisors, top and bottom, were more than twice their usual length. I explored their rough edges, hoping touch would prove their appearance a trick of the light.
Gently, I positioned my forefinger behind the tooth and pulled towards me. It had grown far too sharp, far too long. I tried again, just to be sure it was real, and as I