"What is it, do you know?"

"It looks like... a giant insect, with a purple flesh and a diamond shell. Eyes all over it."

"Ah. The supposed diamond the size of a cow, one presumes. I don't suppose it would be possible to just let the poor thing go instead of killing it..."

"If you think you can let it free without these bastards just getting it back again, that'd be fine too. The second thing..."

She inhales deeply, exhales slowly. "Clarabelle's baby. It's... not human."

"Well. Hybrids can turn out alright."

She smiles weakly. "Glad you think so. But I think the... 'father' is the thing in the basement. Which is the size of an elephant. If the baby takes after it, we're going to have another problem on our hands - I had a hard enough time producing Elisabeth, and she w- she's the size of a loaf of bread. I don't mean to say this is an immediate concern, I just think you should know what I know in case anything happens to me."

"Okay, well, my mother survived having me, and my father was much bigger than an elephant, but that doesn't prove anything. Um, probably even if it kills her coming out she'll be alright, but...how far along is she?"

"I don't know when in her absence it started, but she was gone for six months and that looks more to me like a nine-month pregnancy. If not twelve."

(Something shifts under the skin of Clarabelle's belly, for a moment.)

"I've never tried to do anything for something that died unborn and I'm concerned for the baby if this keeps on. --Not that I want anything to happen to Clarabelle, I can fix it but that won't make it not horrible to undergo--anyway. We'll have to figure something out, find a doctor who has any idea what to do."

The Singer nods. "That's all I had to say. How do we want to do this - presumably you go down to the basement and kill or free the creature, we... escape somehow... but I'm not as sure of the details."

"Yeah. You still implacably opposed to the Prickfinger Wastes? I promise it's safe inside my mother's house, and I can carry you there without danger."

"I'm not as opposed to the Wastes anymore, no - I'll have to leave Elisabeth with her father whatever we do, and I think Clara and I can manage there until her child is born."

"I fully intend to solve this situation thoroughly enough that you can safely walk the streets of London again, but in the short term, yes. Alright. Clarabelle, chew on these, please," Lucy says, procuring the Lethean Tea-Leaves.

Clarabelle chews the leaves placidly, wearing the same blissful expression as any other Orphanage patient with their object of affection. After a few seconds, the mask of joy falls from her face like a cliff collapsing into the sea.

"Where... where am I?" she asks, her pupils dilated.

"It's not important," her sister says, hopping out of bed and helping her up. "We're getting out of here."

"Right. Pretend I'm an orderly escorting you licitly," Lucy instructs, opening the door and leading the two women out. 

They pretend, following dutifully. Clarabelle still looks confused, but she manages a sort of beatific smile in addition; Angie just looks surly. 

They make it down to the basement where the creature is being kept. 

Lucy carefully closes the door, then says "help me barricade it, that'll buy us some time."

The sisters comply, bringing various furniture to bear.

The creature is everything Angie said it would be - massive, diamond-shelled, covered with eyes. It’s connected by tubing to a tank filled with white fluid, and every few minutes there’s a sucking sound and more fluid is collected. 

The creature itself is in a sorry state. Chunks of its shell have been chipped away, and half of its eyes are glassy and dead. The others roll wildly. Yellow slime oozes from cracks and rents in its carapace. 

Poor creature. 

Lucy starts by disconnecting the equipment from it everywhere she can, her hands glowing with healing light.

Once the creature has been disconnected, it thumps to the floor, and milk trickles out from under its bulk. Its eyes turn to focus on her.

"Can you talk?"

It cocks what might be its head and issues a series of clicks.

"That's fair. I hope you can fly." She checks to see if it needs more healing.

It’s quite large, and while most of its injuries were focused around the tubing, not all of them were.

After she's done healing it, the creature scrabbles to its feet. Its shell opens, and it buzzes its wings experimentally. Then it chitters and nudges her, possibly affectionately.

"Excellent." 

And then she picks up the heaviest discrete piece of equipment in the room and smashes it into the corner where ceiling meets wall on the outside of the building.