possible harm is one hardworking, well-paying lahzar occupying a room she and her factotum can afford?'
The enrica d'ama's thin lie of civility failed her at last. 'Oh frogs and toads! Because of the principle! She cannot…!'
'Please,' the physician interjected in a low, insistent voice. 'You'll wake her.'
Madam Felicitine eyed him coldly but continued with deliberate calm. 'She cannot stay here because if guests of genuine refinement were to learn that a person of violence and infamy was bunked in the suite next door, they would never return and advise others to do the same. I will not have this, oh no!' With a dark look at Doctor Verhooverhoven, she forced herself to be collected again. 'No, no, the billet-boxes are the place for her, though I prefer the servant stalls for the likes of these, if they must stay here at all.'
She then looked gravely at Rossamund, who was looking very grave himself. 'Now it pains me, child, it truly does, but things must have their right place and order, people have their rank and station; some should not assert themselves above their betters. I know you'll understand one day.'
'Now, now, dear…' Billetus tried again.
Her momentum building, the enrica d'ama went on. 'That is quite enough from you, I would say! You, who let her-' That accusing finger now stabbed at Europe, unconscious on the bed. '-stay here!' Her arms now gestured wildly at the whole room. She began to go pale. Her cheeks wobbled apoplectically. 'Did you think I wouldn't find out? She simply has to go!'
Mister Billetus now fumbled and stumbled but offered very little else.
'Oh my bursting knees! Keep her in the billet-boxes if your tender heart won't allow eviction!' the enrica d'ama hissed. 'Either way, get her out of this room!'
In the awful, echoing silence that followed came a soft, icy voice. 'My money glitters as well as another's, madam, and here in this bed I will stay!'
Everyone looked in wonder to the bed where Europe had lain apparently senseless just moments before. She was still tucked in, her head still half-buried in the midst of the many, too-soft pillows, but her eyes were open now, bloodshot and baleful-and regarding Madam Felicitine with cold disdain.
Unexpected relief burst within Rossamund.
At last Europe had woken.
11
Skold (noun) the term for a teratologist who does the work of fighting monsters using chemicals and potions known as potives. They throw these potives by hand, pour them from bottles, fling them with a sling or fustibal (a sling on a stick), fire them from pistols known as salinumbus ('salt-cellars'), set traps, make smoke and whatever else it takes to defeat and destroy a monster. They typically wear flowing robes and some kind of conical hat to signify their trade.
Madam Felicitine did not appear to know how to answer such cool and obstinate certainty as she found in Europe. Suddenly rendered powerless in her own wayhouse, she quit the room with a great shower of tears and a great show of wailing.
Mumbling incoherent apologies, Billetus hurried after her, closing the dark door as he left.
Gretel and the skold looked at each other awkwardly, and then the bower maid busied herself by moving about the room lighting candles against the growing dark.
Doctor Verhooverhoven stood and stared at the floor impassively.
The skold looked from him to the bed and back, then behind her at the door. 'I–I… I am s-s-sorry if I have d- done s-s-something to offend, Duh-Doctor Hoo-over-hoven,' she offered, appearing truly troubled.
This roused the good physician. 'Not at all, not at all, girl.You were only answering to my call-and fair enough at that. Let us think no more on what has just passed-this lady needs your aid.'
A look of great relief lit up her face. 'A-Absolutely, yes, let's.You know I'll always he-elp as b-best I c… can.'
'And a great commendation it is to you too, my dear.' The physician smiled grimly.
Rossamund was at Europe's bedside in a dash, full of hopeful concern.
She looked at him placidly, her red eyes ghastly within the oval of her sickly face. 'Hello, little man… Have I been away for long?'
'Since last night… um, very early this morning.' Rossamund's voice quavered slightly in his eagerness.
The fulgar closed her eyes. 'So we made it to the wayhouse, then?… Am I all delirium or are my senses turning hard rocks and sharp pinecones into a soft, warm bed?'
'Aye, aye, we made it here, ma'am, and the kind people helped us.'
Europe chuckled weakly. 'I'm sure they did-except maybe that screeching woman. Tell me now, how much has this help cost?'
The boy's face fell. He had not thought of it quite like that: that they were ready with assistance only as he was ready to pay. 'Ah, twelve sequins for two nights.'
Her chuckle grew louder, but that stopped with a soft gasp. 'And you paid from my purse?'
'No, ma'am.' Rossamund puffed his chest just a little. 'I paid with the Emperor's Billion, which was given me to start work as a lamplighter.'
'An Emperor's Man, are we? Good for you. How interesting…' She seemed to fade for a moment, then shuddered. 'I am sick, Rossamund. I must have my treacle and very soon.You'll have to make it for me again…'
While they had talked so, Doctor Verhooverhoven stood by, rocking on his heels once more. Now he came in quickly. 'And you shall have it, madam. Here I am, the local physician, Doctor Verhooverhoven-how do you do? — and here is the delightful Miss Sallow, our own skold, who can make you your plaudamentum. Am I right, dear?' The physician turned his attention to the skold, who stepped forward, obviously in awe of the fulgar now invalid in the bed before her.
'W-why yes. I n-know all the k… kinds of drafts n… needed by l-lahzars. A g-good ssskold all-lways does.'
The fulgar turned her mizzled attention to them both and squinted. 'Ah, mister physician, you've got me a skold-how kind. Such… tender mercies, I thank you. However, the boy could have made it for me, sir. He's much cleverer than he looks.'
Ducking his head, Rossamund did not know whether to be pleased or offended.
'I am sure he is and more, dear lady, but I would prefer to trust to my own methods and know it's done as well as I know it can be done.' Doctor Verhooverhoven nodded his head in agreement with his own statement.
'However you want it. I'll not argue with a man of physics.'
'As it should be, madam.' He smiled ingratiatingly. 'I shall recommend a soporific be brought to you as well, to help you sleep. Take both this and the plaudamentum and then heal with that most ancient of cures-rest.'
Europe closed her eyes, a knowing grin upon her lips. 'And tell me, dear doctor. At what price does your warm concern come?'
Rossamund could not be certain, but it seemed that Doctor Verhooverhoven actually blushed. 'You do me a disservice, madam. I seek to help you purely for the satisfaction of knowing another human creature is strolling easy once more upon the path of health.'
'Certainly you do, sir,' Europe softly sighed, 'and what will be the account waiting for me upon my departure? We all have to put food in stomachs and clothes on our backs-I'll not begrudge you your pay.'
'Two sequins pays for it all,' the physician relented.
Europe raised an eyebrow.
