‘That’s not true – it’s not about the money.’
‘Oh, really? When’s the last time we did anything free, gratis and for nothing?’
Ada bit her lip. ‘I mean, we do have to eat…’ she started but trailed off. It sounded hollow even to her.
Olympe pushed a lump of stewed liver around her plate, before abandoning it. ‘But I don’t understand. What do the Royalists want with me?’
‘I was hoping you could tell us that,’ replied Camille. ‘Start from the beginning. In your cell you said you had lived in the country before they took you to the prison. With your mother.’
Olympe nodded. ‘Yes, with Maman – and the medical men. They were our only visitors. They…’
She paused, fingers twisting together in her lap. Ada didn’t know how she could look so much like a demon and a nervous child at once. Maybe she was both.
Camille gave her an encouraging smile. ‘Anything you can tell us could help us.’
Olympe took a deep breath and started again. ‘The medical men – they did experiments on me to see what I can do. Often things that hurt. They said they had been studying me since before I was born. Comtois is the one who came the most, in recent years. The others… I’m sorry, I don’t remember them well. The things they did… It is difficult to make myself think about it. Their faces all blur. I think I don’t want to remember them.’
‘What do you mean, what you can do?’ asked Al. ‘Why on earth would someone be studying you?’
Olympe looked at Camille, who nodded.
‘Keep it subtle,’ she said, glancing at the other patrons.
Slowly, Olympe peeled off one glove and held her hand out to the coffee pot. Blue sparks leaped from her fingertips, crackling over the metal surface. Within seconds, steam was whistling from the spout as the water boiled.
Al let out a string of yelps and curses, scrambling back behind the table. Guil swore under his breath, turning from Camille to Ada for some sort of explanation. But Ada was lost for words. She would call it all impossible. But it clearlywaspossible, however much her mind rebelled at the thought. She just needed to work out how.
‘What the hell is this supposed to be?’ said Al from his hiding spot. ‘Did someone put something in my drink? Are we having some sort of collective hallucination, or do I actually need to go and find a priest because there is a demon in front of me?’
‘She’s not a demon,’ cut in Ada.
‘Since when were you an expert?’
‘It’s science, not magic or devilry,’ she explained with more confidence than she felt. ‘She’s manipulating electricity.’
Hastily, Olympe pulled her gloves back on and shivered. ‘How strange to be able to do that again. It was winter when they shut me away and now it is summer. I don’t think I’ve ever gone so long without a spark before today.’
Al inched back out from behind the table.
‘Science?’
‘Yes, you’ve seen them do tricks and demonstrations at the theatre, haven’t you?’
‘That was a dog that barked in German, this is … is…’ He stared wide-eyed at Olympe.
Guil was nodding thoughtfully. ‘I have seen electrical displays before, they were popular at home in Marseille, but it has to be acknowledged that this is something far beyond a parlour trick.’
Silence hung between them, only broken by the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels outside, and the hiss of steam from the coffee pot. Olympe drew all their attention where she sat, small and upright and frightening to behold.
Guil retrieved the steaming pot and poured out five cups of gritty coffee.
‘Is this why the duc wants you?’ asked Ada. ‘Maybe Comtois knew someone would try to take you, and that’s why he locked you up?’
Camille shrugged. ‘That wouldn’t be an unreasonable guess.’
Al lit his pipe from a candle, hands still shaking. ‘The Revolutionaries have you locked up like the crown jewels in a vault. Clearly you’re valuable to them. But what do the Royalists want with some strange science experiment? Got bored and fancied a little light dabbling in the Dark Arts?’
Camille shot him a look, but Olympe spoke before she could say anything.
