Holy hell, but that would be him in a moment if he didn’t get hold of this roof. Lizzie’s face was red with effort as she pulled, and King’s fingers touched the ledge, groping for it. Joshua pulled harder too, a last burst of energy, and King had the ledge with one hand. Lizzie and Joshua pulled the other, and King took hold of the stone.
He tried to lever himself up, but his muscles were fatigued, and he slipped back down, leaving his body dangling over the edge of the roof precariously.
“King!” Joshua said. “They’re coming onto the roof.”
“What? How?” King hadn’t seen a door when he landed on it earlier. He’d checked, thinking they could get inside the building that way.
“The chimney!” Lizzie said. “They’re coming up through the chimney on the top floor.”
Chimneys were small and narrow. That was one reason children were employed as chimney sweeps. King supposed it was too much to hope that Ferryman or his gang became stuck in there. If the brick was old enough, they could simply break through it.
King closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, pulling up with all his strength. If he didn’t make it, Violet would never trust him again. Well, he’d be dead and probably wouldn’t care that she didn’t trust him, but he desperately wanted to prove to her that his plan would work.
And he desperately didn’t want to die.
Sweat poured down his temple as he finally managed to get one elbow onto the ledge. His bruises ached, and the muscles of his arms were on fire. But he exerted one last burst of energy.With a roar and some help from Joshua, King rolled onto the roof. He would have liked to lie there for ten seconds and catch his breath, but there was no time. A glance at the chimney showed him Ferryman was doing exactly as Lizzie had claimed, breaking through the bricks of the chimney to access the roof. King struggled to his knees. “Go!” he ordered Joshua and Lizzie, though his voice was little more than a whisper.
“Follow me,” Joshua told Lizzie. He moved back, standing almost beside the crumbling chimney, then sprinted forward and leapt across the roof to the building across the alley. He landed neatly, rose, and waved at Lizzie.
But she was shaking her head. “I can’t jump that far.”
“Yes, you can,” King croaked. He didn’t add that she had to. At that moment, Ferryman dislodged several bricks from the chimney, and his face appeared.
“I’ll kill you for this,” he hissed, pale skin streaked with soot and blood.
Lizzie gave King a terrified look. He rose to his feet. “Lizzie, you can do this. Do exactly what Joshua did.”
On the other roof, Joshua was calling encouragement. Lizzie looked at King, then Joshua, then Ferryman, who was breaking through the lower bricks of the chimney now. If she didn’t jump soon, Ferryman would kill them both. King couldn’t jump until she did.
“Lizzie, come on. I’ll catch you!” Joshua called. King might have argued that catching her was rather unlikely, but the words—and possibly the threat of imminent and violent death at the hands of Ferryman—finally convinced her. She took a step back, tucked her skirts into her belt, and hunched low. King wanted to close his eyes as she ran. If she second-guessed herself, if she faltered, it would be a long, deadly drop to the alley below. But she leapt across with all the skill of an alley cat. Her landing was not graceful, but Joshua was there to pick her up.
“King! Hurry!” he called.
Beside King, the last of the bricks holding Ferryman crumbled, and he pushed through. His rich purple coat was coated with soot and ashes, and as he moved, they fell from his hair. The effect was to make the arch rogue look ghostly. “I should have had my men kill you yesterday.” He swung at King, who had been swung at enough times to duck out of instinct.
And then, following his instincts, he bent low and drove his shoulder into Ferryman’s abdomen. As soon as he hit the man, more soot and ashes were dislodged from his clothing, making King’s throat close up. He choked off a coughing fit and straightened, preparing to make his jump while Ferryman was off balance. But the gang leader grabbed King’s coat and tugged him back. King swung wildly but missed. He might have swung again, but one of Ferryman’s men emerged from the ruins of the chimney. And there were more behind him.
Joshua called frantically, and King knew he had one last chance. He had to go now, or he’d never escape. Ferryman groped for his shoulder again, and this time, King turned, planted his feet, and hit Ferryman squarely in the nose. The impact made his already bruised knuckles cry out in pain, but he ignored it. He shoved one of the gang members out of the way and ran for it.
The distance between the Black Bear and the roof of the other building seemed much farther than it had the first time he jumped. As his body entered the space between the buildings, he didn’t look down. Instead, his mind conjured an image of Violet Baker. He didn’t know why he should think of her in that moment, except to acknowledge that if he didn’t make it, she would dig up his body and kill him all over again.
Or maybe he thought of her because he knew she was back at the Silver Unicorn worrying about him. He wanted to see her again. He wanted to hold her again. He wanted to tell her thankyou for coming to collect her seven pounds, fifteen shillings the morning of his birthday. He couldn’t think where he would be without her.
Possibly not flying through the air and landing with a bone-rattling thud on a rooftop in Seven Dials.
Lizzie looked down at him. “Are ye ’urt?”
“Probably,” he said. At least, Kingthoughthe spoke. He couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears. Then the children pulled him to his feet and dragged him away.
*
Violet cleaned thelast of the blood from Peggy’s hair and rose to dump out the pink water in the basin. Georgie had helped her to settle Peggy on a pile of King’s clothing. She would have rather moved the girl to the flat upstairs, but Peggy was too weak to walk, and Violet and Georgie couldn’t carry her up the stairs on their own.
Violet poured a cool glass of water from a pitcher on the counter and helped Peggy drink. Once she’d swallowed a bit, Peggy laid her head back on what looked like a waistcoat.
“Better?” Violet asked.
“Thank you, Vi.”
