three
AGONY. SHEER AGONY was the only thing Perry could feel, smell, taste, and hear.
Surely, someone was battering his skull with a sledgehammer and a lot of passion because that was the only possible explanation for the ridiculously intense pain in his head.
“Perry…” someone whispered his name, but he couldn’t tell who the person was and couldn’t open his eyes.
He was so tired. He wanted to sleep and forget the pain. Whoever called him could wait.
A pungent smell woke him up. Perhaps an hour, a day, or a month had passed since he’d last opened his eyes. The headache that threatened to break his skull in two was barely bearable. He fluttered his eyes open, which required an outrageous amount of energy; it was also pointless. The only thing he saw was a giant, blurry grey-and-white halo.
“Lord Peregrine,” a woman said.
Hell, the smell. It was a combination of carbolic acid and strong lye scullery soap. Other sounds reached his ears, but using them to simply listen to his surroundings hurt. So heclosed his eyes and ran his tongue over his parched lips. He wanted to sleep some more.
Once again, someone woke him up by shaking his arm. They should leave him bloody alone. He needed to sleep.
“Perry.” That was Albert, scared to death if the tremor in his voice was any indication. “Can you hear me?”
Bugger. Perry forced himself to open his eyes again. Great. Now the giant blur had changed colour. Instead of grey and white, it was brown. He tried to talk, but only a strangled noise came out.
“He opened his eyes,” Albert said with the tone of someone who gave extraordinary news. “I’m here, Perry. You aren’t alone.”
Yes, he’d gathered that much. But he’d like to know where ‘here’ was. The brown thingamabob around him could be anything.
“Perry.” The second voice belonged to a girl. He’d heard that voice… somewhere.
Oh, right. Miss Edith Winkworth, the girl who never stopped reading and who had spectacular forest-green eyes. Eyes that had captured him. He’d met her at the Rosherville Pleasure Gardens right before he’d boarded the steamship.
A shock of stillness went through him. Now he remembered.Princess Alicehad been hit. He’d jumped into the river with Edith, her mother, and her sister a moment before the steamship had been sliced in two. The water had been pure, undiluted slime from the sewers. Awful.
The stink had made him gag. The slime had coated his nose and mouth. Then large pieces of broken wood and even larger pieces of scorching metal had rained all around him as the steamship had been shattered into smithereens. Something had hit his head. Hard. At least now the headache and the previous lack of memories had a cause.
Soft fingers touched his hand. “Perry, it’s me, Edith.”
He blinked furiously to clear his vision until something vaguely resembling a human silhouette appeared. Her strawberry-blonde hair formed an indistinct golden halo.
“You’re at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital,” she said.
That made sense.
“You’ve been unconscious for almost two months.”
That didn’t make sense.
“Can you hear me? Blink once if you can.”
He did as told since his throat didn’t work.
Relief flooded her voice. “He said yes.”
“It might be a coincidence. Ask him something else.” That was Albert, always the optimist.
Her delicate fingers brushed his knuckles. The sensation was nice. “Do you remember me? We were on boardPrincess Alicewhen it sank.”
He blinked once.
“Good lord, Perry, you’re awake.” Albert must have taken his hand because the sensation felt different. “I was so worried. The doctors had no idea if you would ever wake up.”
