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.He caught sight of a black-clad preacher and scowled inwardly.The Church railed against the desperate straits of the poor, but it rarely did anything effective to help.And its preachers claimed tithes from those who could scarcely afford to pay.He wandered down the darkest streets, waiting for what he knew would happen.There was no point in going to any of the addresses he’d known last time he’d been in London.His friends would be long gone.The Bow Street Runners turned a blind eye to prostitution, gambling and drinking – at least when the Church wasn’t breathing down their necks – but they broke up socialist meetings with great energy.His old friends would be well hidden.It didn’t matter that much.He would find someone who would know where they were, or knew someone who would know.It was very difficult to hide in London if one wanted to run a criminal or underground enterprise.The touch, when it came, was so light that he would have missed it altogether if he hadn’t been waiting for it.His hand snapped down and caught the hand of a grubby little street urchin who had been trying to pick his pocket – and the wallet Jack had placed inside, knowing that it would tempt someone to try his luck.The child struggled against his grip, but couldn’t break free as Jack hauled him into the alleyway.No one would notice, or care if they did.There were hundreds of children running wild on London’s streets.The lucky ones died early, before they matured.He used a touch of magic as he gripped the boy’s shirt and lifted him into the air.It would seem an impressive demonstration of strength to anyone without the ability to sense magic.The child kicked and struggled, but it was useless.Up close, he stank of the streets, a stench that would put the hardiest of souls to flight.It was self-protection as much as anything else, but it still disgusted him.How could anyone live like that?The boy – no; he looked at the face and realised that he was holding a girl, dressed as a boy – stopped struggling and stared at him.Jack read hopelessness in her gaze, the awareness that her luck had run out.If he handed her over to the Bow Street Runners, she would be condemned to transportation as convict labour, if she were lucky.And there were people who had far darker ideas about what to do with a young girl.She couldn’t be older than eight, perhaps nine, but her eyes were already old.Jack knew she would be lucky to survive into her teens.“You tried to steal from me,” he said, evenly.“I didn’t mean to, master,” the girl pleaded.Her attempt at producing a masculine voice wasn’t perfect, but it would probably fool someone in the dark.It had been a long time since Jack had visited the places where the street children slept, but he knew that they could be a very nasty place for a young girl.No one could be trusted on the streets.“Let me go and I won’t steal from you again…I swear I won’t…”“Be quiet,” Jack said, in the same even tone.“What is your name, young lady?”The girl’s face, already pale, became almost bloodless as she realised he knew her sex.“Olivia, sir,” she said.“I didn’t know you were a spark or a toffee; I didn’t know…”Jack smiled, inwardly.Spark was street-slang for magician; toffee was street-slang for upper-class personage, slumming in the poorer areas of the city for pleasures that were denied even to people of their lofty birth.If the girl had identified him as a magician, it suggested some magical talent of her own.It was almost a shame that the Royal Sorcerers Corps hadn’t found her.She would have been brainwashed into serving the order that kept the lower classes in their place, but at least she would have enough to eat.“I’m looking for Mistress Lucy,” Jack said.It was a name from the past, but unless he was very much mistaken she would still be alive and thriving within the underworld.Any woman in a position of power had to be stronger, tougher and more ruthless than any of her male counterparts.The female of the species was far more deadly than the male.“Do you know where she stays?”He allowed some Charm to slip into his voice.“You will take me to where she stays,” he said, as the girl nodded frantically.“Don’t try to run away, or I’ll turn you into a rat.”The girl’s eyes went wide, in surprise and fear, and then she nodded.“Follow me, mister,” she said.“I won’t lead you wrong.”Jack followed her, shaking his head inwardly at how the locals didn’t seem to take any notice of them.But life on the streets was hard; no one would risk their lives to save a street child who would steal from them the moment their backs were turned.Even the handful of preachers who came down into the maze of houses, bridges and slums would turn their backs on a street child [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.He caught sight of a black-clad preacher and scowled inwardly.The Church railed against the desperate straits of the poor, but it rarely did anything effective to help.And its preachers claimed tithes from those who could scarcely afford to pay.He wandered down the darkest streets, waiting for what he knew would happen.There was no point in going to any of the addresses he’d known last time he’d been in London.His friends would be long gone.The Bow Street Runners turned a blind eye to prostitution, gambling and drinking – at least when the Church wasn’t breathing down their necks – but they broke up socialist meetings with great energy.His old friends would be well hidden.It didn’t matter that much.He would find someone who would know where they were, or knew someone who would know.It was very difficult to hide in London if one wanted to run a criminal or underground enterprise.The touch, when it came, was so light that he would have missed it altogether if he hadn’t been waiting for it.His hand snapped down and caught the hand of a grubby little street urchin who had been trying to pick his pocket – and the wallet Jack had placed inside, knowing that it would tempt someone to try his luck.The child struggled against his grip, but couldn’t break free as Jack hauled him into the alleyway.No one would notice, or care if they did.There were hundreds of children running wild on London’s streets.The lucky ones died early, before they matured.He used a touch of magic as he gripped the boy’s shirt and lifted him into the air.It would seem an impressive demonstration of strength to anyone without the ability to sense magic.The child kicked and struggled, but it was useless.Up close, he stank of the streets, a stench that would put the hardiest of souls to flight.It was self-protection as much as anything else, but it still disgusted him.How could anyone live like that?The boy – no; he looked at the face and realised that he was holding a girl, dressed as a boy – stopped struggling and stared at him.Jack read hopelessness in her gaze, the awareness that her luck had run out.If he handed her over to the Bow Street Runners, she would be condemned to transportation as convict labour, if she were lucky.And there were people who had far darker ideas about what to do with a young girl.She couldn’t be older than eight, perhaps nine, but her eyes were already old.Jack knew she would be lucky to survive into her teens.“You tried to steal from me,” he said, evenly.“I didn’t mean to, master,” the girl pleaded.Her attempt at producing a masculine voice wasn’t perfect, but it would probably fool someone in the dark.It had been a long time since Jack had visited the places where the street children slept, but he knew that they could be a very nasty place for a young girl.No one could be trusted on the streets.“Let me go and I won’t steal from you again…I swear I won’t…”“Be quiet,” Jack said, in the same even tone.“What is your name, young lady?”The girl’s face, already pale, became almost bloodless as she realised he knew her sex.“Olivia, sir,” she said.“I didn’t know you were a spark or a toffee; I didn’t know…”Jack smiled, inwardly.Spark was street-slang for magician; toffee was street-slang for upper-class personage, slumming in the poorer areas of the city for pleasures that were denied even to people of their lofty birth.If the girl had identified him as a magician, it suggested some magical talent of her own.It was almost a shame that the Royal Sorcerers Corps hadn’t found her.She would have been brainwashed into serving the order that kept the lower classes in their place, but at least she would have enough to eat.“I’m looking for Mistress Lucy,” Jack said.It was a name from the past, but unless he was very much mistaken she would still be alive and thriving within the underworld.Any woman in a position of power had to be stronger, tougher and more ruthless than any of her male counterparts.The female of the species was far more deadly than the male.“Do you know where she stays?”He allowed some Charm to slip into his voice.“You will take me to where she stays,” he said, as the girl nodded frantically.“Don’t try to run away, or I’ll turn you into a rat.”The girl’s eyes went wide, in surprise and fear, and then she nodded.“Follow me, mister,” she said.“I won’t lead you wrong.”Jack followed her, shaking his head inwardly at how the locals didn’t seem to take any notice of them.But life on the streets was hard; no one would risk their lives to save a street child who would steal from them the moment their backs were turned.Even the handful of preachers who came down into the maze of houses, bridges and slums would turn their backs on a street child [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]