Chapter 3

    “I can explain,” I blurted, but he put a finger over my lips to silence me.

    I stayed as still as possible as Silas stared at the scales. Eventually, he turned back to face me, staring into my eyes intently, his brows furrowed and his jaw tense.

    This was it; he was going to throw me out.

    “What are you?” He asked.

    “I…I do not know… I do not know what I am,” I swallowed. “I have always been this. But I do not know what this is…”

    It felt like my voice had been stolen and sobs racked my body. All the pain and terror of my life came back to me in that instant and I allowed myself to release my fear and sorrow. I buried my face in his chest, wetting his shirt with salty tears. After a moment, he hesitantly put his arm around me and held me to him.

    Once I’d finally managed to stop crying I pulled away from Silas, instead choosing to look at the old, musty curtains that were drawn in front of the windows.

    “What happened to you, before you came here?”

    I sobbed a little and clutched my knees to my chest.

    “Tell me what happened to you before you came here. I want to understand.”

    I looked at Silas and took a deep breath before I began. “For my whole life, at least I think it was my whole life, I was kept in a cage. It was in a cupboard in the Master’s cellar, it was always dark.”

    “The Master? Who is that?” he asked.

    “I am not sure,” I admitted. “All the other people there treated him like, well, like the highest person. So I called him the Master. He taught me to read and write and speak. Sometimes he showed me books from a place called a library, but I’ve never seen one before.”

    “How did you get the scales?” he asked in a quiet voice, obviously nervous of the delicate subject.

    “I don’t know,” I said sadly. “Maybe I was born with them.”

    “Perhaps,” he said distractedly. “Was it this Master who hurt you?” he questioned.

    I shook my head, closing my eyes, too afraid to see his reaction. “It was his son: Riley. He was the same age as me, I think, or of similar age. He hated me, when we were little he would pull my hair, and then when he got a bit older he began to beat me and torment me. He would say horrible things.”

    I opened my eyes to see Silas nodding solemnly. I told him how I’d never left the little room in the cellar, and how I managed my escape, how Hettie had helped me and how I’d ended up in the street. The only detail I left out was the chance meeting I had with Riley just after my escape; I wanted that to stay secret – for now. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t want to tell Silas about it but for whatever reason I wanted to keep it to myself. It still bothered me. Why had Riley let me escape? He could have easily stopped me. It didn’t make sense.

    “Don’t worry,” Silas said once I had finished. “You’re safe here. I won’t let them take you back. You have been done great wrong…” He looked away from me before continuing. “I shall let you stay here a little longer, a few days perhaps. Then we shall see what happens.”

    “Thank you,” I whispered.

    Silas left then to get me some new clothes to wear, seeing as the ones I was wearing were ripped, fraying and dirty. He returned a few moments later with a bundle of fabric in his arms which he put down on the floor next to me.

    “I’m afraid I don’t have any women’s clothes, and these will probably be too big for you but they’ll have to do for now,” he said before leaving me to change.

    There was a pair of breeches which I slid on and finding that they were very baggy around the waist tightened the belt as much as possible. There was also a white shirt which I put on instead of my torn dress and a pair of worn boots. All of these items were inevitably far too large for me and it took several minutes of arranging to make sure the shirt covered me fully.

    Once that was done I left the kitchen and made my way to the only other room I knew of in the house. I paused in the hall at the bottom of the rickety, wooden stairs and looked up them into darkness. Up those stairs was what I assumed was probably the sleeping rooms and I wondered where Silas had in mind for me to sleep.

    I was sure I would find this out in due course and advanced to the reception room in which I had first awoken and closed the door behind me. Silas was sat in the wooden rocking chair, a pipe in his mouth and wisps of smoke puffing out the end.

    The pipe was made of wood which was finely made and of a deep mahogany in colour though I did not know the actual wood it was made of. This pipe seemed odd in this obviously middle class dwelling and would obviously have been much better placed in a rich man’s home. Of course, though, I didn’t mention this to him.

    Silas lifted his head as I entered the room and indicated for me to take a seat. I obliged politely, limping over to the chair opposite him and sinking down into it thankfully. The dog which I had seen earlier leapt up onto the chair next to me, resting its head in my lap.

    “His name is Max,” Silas told me. “I have had him since he was a puppy.”

    “He is a very nice dog,” I said nervously. I had never seen a dog before, except in the Masters’ books, and here was one resting in my lap. Hesitantly I allowed the dog to nuzzle my hand and relaxed somewhat. 

    Silas studied me for a moment and I fidgeted under his gaze, disliking his intense stare.

    “You will, of course, need clothes of your own,” he said eventually, setting down his pipe on a small table next to him.

    “Oh, but please, don’t spend your money on me,” I insisted. “I do not want your charity.”

    “I am not offering you charity,” he replied. “You are living with me now – for a time - and you need your own clothes. Mine are inappropriate wear for a lady such as yourself and you would be scorned upon if anyone saw you wearing them.”

    I looked down at my lap and clasped my hands together.

    “Though I will need to take you with me so I make sure I buy the right size,” he said. “But I think that could wait a couple of days until you are better recovered from your injuries.”

    I nodded.

    “There are two things though, that you have not told me,” he said.

    “What are they?” I asked.

    “Your age and your name,” he answered.

    I felt my cheeks redden. “I have not a name, and as for my age I do not know.”

    Silas nodded, rubbing his chin with his thumb.

    “How old do you think I am?” I asked as my curiosity piqued. Never before had my age mattered to me, time was something I had no comprehension of. Though now I felt as if it was important, I was a person of course, and I had a place to stay that was not a filthy cage in a rich man’s cellar. I needed an identity, even though that is such a small thing I still felt desperate for one. So then I would be less of a creature and more of a human.

    He looked me over for a moment before making his reply. “You look to be perhaps ten and eight years, though I think your poor treatment has resulted in you looking younger than your actual age and think that you are perhaps nearer twenty years of age.”

    I nodded at his fair judgement, finding that that was a good estimation.

    “But what shall we do about your name. You must have one. Did none mention you ever having a name?” Silas asked.

    “They did not. Riley would call me a creature and other horrible names, and the Master would always simply call me girl. I do not think I ever had a name at all,” I said sadly.

    “Then I shall give you a name,” Silas announced.

    I looked up at him to see a smile on his face. “You will?”

    “Of course I shall. Everyone must have a name for them to be called by and you shall be no different,” he said.

    “Thank you, that is very kind,” I said politely.

    “From what you have told me you have not experienced much kindness, I think it’s about time someone showed you some,” he replied.

    Max lifted his head and looked up me with sad eyes and it was almost as if he understood our conversation. He rubbed his head against my leg fondly before settling back down in my lap.

    “He seems to like you,” Silas said, a smile emerging on his face.

    “It seems that way,” I agreed.

    There was a brief silence in which the fire blazed next to us and the light outside the window began to darken. Time had passed so quickly.

    “You must be tired,” Silas said suddenly.

    “A little,” I said, though in truth I felt exhausted.

    “You can sleep in my room,” he stood and beckoned for Max to heel. The dog obliged obediently.

    “What about you?” I asked.

    “I’ll sleep down here,” he said.

    “Oh, but I couldn’t-”

    “I’m not giving you a choice,” he argued as he came over to help me up.

    Not having the energy to persist my argument further I allowed him to walk me to the stairs and then wrap his arm around my waist. Taking one step at a time we made our way up with most of my weight being held up by Silas. Eventually we made it to the top floor and he guided me to the only room, opening the door for me like a gentleman.

    I entered and found myself in Silas’ bedroom. It was small and dim but to me, someone who had never set foot in a bedroom before never mind seen a bed, it was like walking into a luxurious chamber.

    There was a double bed in the centre of the room with several blankets covering it and an old, wooden wardrobe against one wall. The only other furniture was a moth-eaten chair and a small bedside table. Nothing about the room gave anything away about Silas’ past or personality.

    “You can find the privy at the end of the garden if you so need. I wish you a good sleep,” Silas said and with that swept out of the room and closed the door before I could reply.

    I stood for a moment, staring at the door and wondered what Silas would be doing right now. What was it that men occupied themselves with anyway? I had no idea and so slid into the bed without bothering to change as I felt far too exhausted.

    Though the bed was probably not the most expensive in London it was enthralling for me, the only sleeping places I’d had were a cage and by the side of the street. The mattress that probably would have felt hard to anyone else felt soft to me and I pulled the blankets up under my chin, thankful for the warmth they provided.

    It wasn’t long before I felt the comforting clutch of sleep pulling at my mind, dragging me into unconsciousness.