Guil squatted to observe the feather. Olympe let the blue light die from her fingers and the feather drifted slowly down again.
‘But you have no glass ball,’ Ada said. ‘You create this charge yourself.’
Olympe nodded.
‘It does seem as though it is some part of your body’s natural abilities,’ said Ada thoughtfully. ‘May I look at your hands? I promise to be careful.’
Olympe considered her for a moment, then tentatively extended her arms so Ada could take her hands in turn, tracing the lines of her palms. Aside from the mottled, death-like colour and their coldness, they seemed natural. Perhaps the pads of her fingers felt somewhat rough. But that was it. It was no trick.
‘What did Comtois tell you about your abilities?’
‘Barely anything. I don’t think he thought I could understand much. He’s arrogant. This might be my power but to his mind he’s the genius who’ll figure it out.’
‘What about your mother, what did she think it was?’
Olympe’s eyes lit up. ‘She wasn’t scared of me, she was proud of me. She told me that everyone has different skills and talents, but that my abilities were a miracle. She also told me I would have to be brave. All the best people were brave. I – I think she would like you all.’
Ada swallowed against her dry throat and let go of Olympe’s hands.
‘Thank you.’
Camille had moved back to sit in the window seat, watching Olympe, her expression unreadable.
Ada made several more notes in her notebook, but she was struggling to keep up with the ideas charging through her mind. She picked up one of her books and leafed through it, hunting for a diagram.
‘I’ve read about these experiments with electricity – galvanism, they call it,’ said Ada, finding the right page and lying the book on the floor for everyone to see. It showed a meticulous drawing of a dissected frog, before and after an electrical current had been applied to its limbs, demonstrating how they spasmed and contracted. ‘Some scientists think electricity is a fluid inside everything, and with enough training people could manipulate it and even control it in other people. Some think it’s the vital spark of life and have tried to reanimate the dead using it. But this…’ She looked at Olympe, faltering. ‘This is something no one has ever seen before.’
Guil mumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath, jaw set in a tight line.
‘There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy,’ murmured Al. ‘What? Shakespeare might be English, but he had a point.’
Ada nodded. ‘Any technology far enough advanced is indistinguishable from magic. We’re always learning more things about the way the world works that turns everything we thought was certain on its head. Who knows what science may one day make possible? Painless surgery, travel faster than a horse and carriage – or even long-distance flight.’
Al snorted. ‘Are you sure you’ve not been at my brandy, Ada?’
‘I’m serious!’
‘A girl who can shoot electricity out of her fingers, I’ve seen, so I’ll believe. But flying? Was I the only one who nearly died in a balloon crash recently?’
Camille silenced him with a look. ‘Ada. Was there anything else?’
Ada took a breath, scanning her notes, then pushed up her sleeves and held her hands out again to Olympe.
‘I think you can use your abilities without hurting people. Would you trust me to try an experiment here?’
Olympe nodded and slowly shifted forwards onto her knees. ‘I don’t want to keep hurting people. What do you want me to do?’
‘Try to send a charge into my arms – a very little one, like you used on the feather.’
‘Ada – maybe this isn’t a good idea,’ said Camille, abandoning the window seat to join them on the rug.
Ada shrugged her off. ‘It’ll be fine. I trust you, Olympe.’
She gave her an encouraging smile, and Olympe let her palms rest lightly against Ada’s bare brown skin. The blue light skimmed over her again, but this time Ada felt it, a vibration that set her teeth on edge. At first it tickled and tingled along the length of her arm, and then the intensity increased and both arms spasmed involuntarily, fingers curling into claws, biceps clenching. Blue sparks crackled over the backs of her hands, sharp and hot and painful. She jerked back, and Olympe dropped her hands immediately. Ada slumped, breathing hard. Her heart was racing, dual spikes of excitement and anxiety shooting through her.
‘I’m okay,’ she panted, and held up her unmarked arms. ‘Look, no damage.’
Olympe leaned forwards to check.
