Fever Crumb by Philip Reeve

Author:Philip Reeve [Reeve, Philip]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: SteamPunk, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781407102429
Publisher: Scholastic
Published: 2009-05-03T14:00:00+00:00

Wavey Godshawk sensed her feelings. "Oh, Fever," she said, sitting back and folding her hands in her lap, smiling. "Oh, but you must think me a terrible mother! To abandon you. To abandon your father before he even knew that he was a father.... But I had to abandon him. Godshawk was furious when he found out I was in love with Gideon. He sent Gideon away, and he told me that if I tried to contact him he would be killed. He sent me away, too, said he couldn't stand the sight of me, and packed me off to live at the Barbican.

"Then, when he learned that I was going to have a baby, he softened. I think that he had long been wanting me to have a child who would continue the House of Godshawk. He had spent years finding a good husband for me, and when Odo Bolventor rejected me perhaps he was glad that Gideon Crumb had been there to provide him with an heir. But still he would not let me contact Gideon."

Fever could picture her as she had looked in those days. The way she had worn her hair, the clothes she'd favored. She had no memories of Wavey from her own babyhood, of course, but there were other memories, scores of them, from earlier times. Wavey as a little girl, and as a young woman. Wavey in her white coat, her hair tied back, careful and serious and the best laboratory assistant a man could ask for. Wavey fastening those thick leather wristbands, frowning as she tightened the screws of the helmet around Fever's head...

No , not my head! Not my wrists! These aren't my memories....

Wavey kept on smiling at her, and reached out impulsively to touch her hand. "You were never comfortable in my womb, Fever, dear. There was some mismatch between your human and your Scriven halves. How you struggled and squiggled! Elbows and heels jabbed me. I was feverish always. You arrived early, one spring night in my apartment at the Barbican, long before you were looked for. A small little purple monkey you looked, barely longer than my hand, and the Scrivener hadn't made even one single mark upon you. Nobody dreamed that you would live. But Godshawk took you away with him to his laboratories at Nonesuch House, and although I was too weak to go and see you there, he sent word to me by a servant every day.

"Every day I woke up fearing that they would tell me you were dead, but every day they said, 'She's still alive. She's still alive. Your father is doing all he can. Medical machines not seen since Ancient days...'

"And then, in early summer, when the blossom was still on the trees, he brought you home to me. You were in your little basket. Your eyes had changed -- two different colors. He said it was a side effect of the surgery he had performed, and I did not complain. I was just so happy to see you.

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