Free The Daughters of Eden Trilogy: The Shadow Catcher, Fever Hill & the Serpent's Tooth by Michelle Paver Page A

House, Madeleine was put to bed in the nursery and told to stay there for the rest of the day.
    She lay beneath the blankets, drifting in and out of sleep. She didn’t think about her parents at all, not at all. They were outside the shell, and she was inside, where it was safe. She was going to stay inside for ever and ever.
    Beside her in the cot the baby slept and woke and cried and punched the air, and sometimes Cousin Lettice came in to see to it, and once Madeleine saw that she carried Dr Philpott in the pocket of her gown. But mostly Madeleine just slept inside the shell.
    The next morning she was sent back to her own room, because Cousin Lettice said it was inappropriate to go on sleeping in the nursery. Madeleine stood on the rug, gazing blankly at her things: at the dolls and the dressing gown on the end of the bed, and Mister Parrot. He had been placed on the chair – presumably by Cousin Lettice tidying up – along with her dried-out scarf and sealskin hat and mittens.
    It was strange to look at Mister Parrot now. It felt as if he belonged to someone else. He wasn’t real any more. He was just a toy which her mother had made out of green and blue felt, with blue glass buttons for eyes. He was outside the shell.
    She took off her frock and climbed beneath the covers and slept until noon, then got dressed again and padded into the nursery. She was leaning over the cot, dangling a knotted handkerchief for the baby to scowl at, when Cousin Lettice walked in.
    As always, Cousin Lettice spoke without preamble. ‘You’, she said to Madeleine in her accusatory way, ‘will pack your trunk. The day after tomorrow we take the train for London. Henceforth you will live with us. The infant will go to Mr Fynn’s sister in Birmingham.’
    She continued to say something about schools and headlice and the desirability of home tuition, but Madeleine stopped listening. When Cousin Lettice had mentioned the baby’s going to Birmingham, it felt as if someone had cut a hole in the shell and let in a blast of freezing air. It made her feel shaky and horribly exposed.
    The world crowded in on her, and she could no longer keep it out. She felt the cold roughness of the rug beneath her stockinged feet. She heard the loud, stiff rustle of Cousin Lettice’s gown as she approached the cot. She smelt the sour smell of the baby, which had just been sick.
    The baby belonged to her . It was her task to look after it. That was her job. How could it live at Birmingham, wherever that was, if she, Madeleine, lived in London?
    It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t let it happen. Her mind raced. ‘Cousin Lettice?’ she said at last.
    Cousin Lettice stopped talking and fixed her with her colourless stare.
    Madeleine improvised. ‘Mama . . .’ she began, ‘Mama wants us to stay together.’
    Two red blotches appeared on Cousin Lettice’s sallow cheeks. ‘What?’ she said sharply. ‘What is this you say?’
    Madeleine caught her lower lip in her teeth.
    Cousin Septimus appeared in the doorway, looking irritated. ‘Lettice, there is a tradesman at the door who—’
    Cousin Lettice silenced him with a glance. ‘What is this you say’, she said to Madeleine, ‘about your mother wishing you to stay together?’
    Cousin Septimus shut his mouth with an audible pop. He looked appalled.
    Madeleine glanced from Cousin Lettice to Cousin Septimus and back again. ‘Mama wants you to look after us both ,’ she mumbled. ‘She said – she said you’re the only one who can help us. With the taint.’
    She had their full attention now. ‘Mama’, she went on, developing her theme, ‘said that only you can save us – save us both. Together. That’s me and . . .’ she glanced from the baby to the books on the shelf: The Water Babies and Les Malheurs de Sophie , ‘me and Sophie. That’s the baby. Sophie. That’s what she’s called.’
    ‘Not both of them,’ said Cousin Septimus, shaking his head so vigorously that his jowls wobbled.