The Dark Flight Down (12 page)

8

It was not only thoughts of the Phantom that kept Boy awake. There was Willow too. What if she was not safely locked up in the Tower? With that thing on the loose? But nowhere was really safe. He spent a wretched night, anticipating the commotion that would start at daybreak when the bloody mess was discovered.

But when morning dawned, there was nothing. The old blind servant came and went, bringing him his breakfast, and said nothing of murder.

As she was leaving, Boy stopped her.

“What is it, Boy?”

“I just wondered if you’d heard anything happening in the palace this morning. Anything strange . . . ?”

The woman shook her head.

“Same as ever,” she said.

After she left, Boy moved to the window. There had indeed been much more snow overnight, and Boy prayed it was enough to hide everything that had happened.

From his high vantage point he could see a man with a shovel clearing some of the footpaths around the small square beneath his window. The snow was coming down, and Boy began to feel calmer, but Willow was still on his mind.

His thoughts were broken as the door to the outer room of his chambers burst open.

Maxim strode in and Boy could see he was not in a good mood.

Had he learnt of Boy’s nocturnal activities, or was he furious about the murderous Phantom? But it seemed that no one knew Boy had escaped, and that no one knew, or cared, about whom the Phantom killed either inside the palace, or out.

“The girl was not there!” Maxim marched right up to Boy, who kept his nerve and didn’t flinch. That seemed to throw Maxim, who for once did not lash out. Boy had had enough of threats and beatings. He had seen something far worse that night, and somehow the shock of it had given him a weird strength. What was a physical blow compared to what he’d seen in the tunnel?

“I could have told you that,” Boy said, enjoying the irony of the situation. He knew exactly where “the girl” was, right here in the palace, while Maxim was scouring the City for her.

“How? Where is she?”

Under your very nose,
Boy thought.

“I have no idea,” he lied, “but I can tell you she’s smarter than your guards. They won’t find her.”

Maxim pushed Boy back against a wall.

“Are you going to hurt me again?” Boy asked, flatly. He felt utterly calm.

Maxim was taken aback. The boy was in a strange mood, and he had no time for games.

“No,” he said. “I’m not. But unless you tell me where the book is, I will send you somewhere where you will die. The dark flight? Remember that, Boy. Just remember that.”

Boy no longer felt so strong. He scratched his nose, looking away from Maxim.

“Ah,” said Maxim. “So you know what I’m talking about? Good. Then tell me this: Where is the book? If the girl has it, where is she? If not, who does have it? If you do not tell me now, I will have you taken straight away. . . .”

Boy edged away from the wall, and crossed to a window, to look at the snow. What could he say? Even if he told Maxim about Kepler, that he and Willow were in the palace, it still might not bring the book into his hands. Boy had no idea whether Kepler had it with him. It would have been a risk to bring it, it would have been a risk to leave it behind. And if he told Maxim all that, the one certain thing was that Willow would be in danger too. There was nothing he could say.

“I don’t know,” he said, so calmly and clearly that Maxim could do nothing other than believe him. Boy felt he had been living on borrowed time ever since New Year’s Eve. Valerian had nearly killed him then. Had changed his mind at the last moment, or had it changed for him, by Kepler’s telling him Boy was his son. Either Boy would have died, or his father. Now all Boy wanted was for Willow to be safe.

“Throw me to the Phantom, then, if you must. I can’t tell you where the book is, because I don’t know.”

Boy expected Maxim to shout at him, to curse him, to beat him and to have him taken that very moment, but he did none of these things. He sat on a chair and shook his head.

Boy moved away from the window.

“Why?” he asked.

Maxim looked up.

“Why do you need the book? Why does the emperor need it? It was here once before, and nothing good came of it.”

“The doctor told you that, didn’t he? He had his uses, but you know, I thought he might have lost his mind. . . .”

“I think he very nearly did. What did he do to deserve that? What was it, to put him in prison for what . . . ? Ten years?”

“Fifteen,” Maxim corrected him. “Fifteen. He knew too much. I couldn’t allow that. I was the only other person left alive who knew what he knew.”

“So why didn’t you kill him?” Boy said bitterly. “You kill people so easily here.”

Maxim looked at him wryly.

“Maybe not so easily in those days. But there was another reason. We needed his skills . . . as a doctor.”

“Why?” asked Boy, interested to see whether Maxim would tell him about the Phantom, admit that they knew of its existence, that they even cared for it, and needed Bedrich to try to control it.

“You think I’m going to tell you all the secrets in this place, Boy? Don’t be so stupid. I am only interested in you for one reason. The book. You were with Valerian at the end, you must know what happened to it.”

Boy shook his head.

“The book was the last thing on our mind. Valerian was taken. Willow and I left the Yellow House. The Tower was a ruin. If your men didn’t find it when they captured me then it must have been looted before I went back that day.”

Maxim studied Boy’s face, as if trying to ascertain the truth of his words.

“But why do you need it anyway?” Boy asked. “Why does the emperor need it?”

“Because he’s mad!” Maxim spat, then paused. He sighed. “I need it to give the emperor the one thing he hasn’t got. Life.”

“What do you mean?” asked Boy. “He’s alive now. . . .”

“You noticed? Hmm. But for how much longer? He’s seventy-eight now, and, as you see, as frail as a man twenty years older. He’s a puny, feeble, fake old man, and he wants to live forever.”

“He wants to what?” spluttered Boy.

“He wants to live forever,” Maxim said, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “There is no one to succeed him. He is the last of a direct family line that stretches back for seven centuries at least. When he dies . . .”

“And so he wants to live forever, instead? He’s mad!”

Maxim glanced at Boy, not very interested.

“I should have you killed for that. But yes, you’re right. Unfortunately for me, I have to find a way of making him immortal, before he gets tired of my failing to do so.”

“I see,” said Boy. “Or rather, I don’t see. He wants to be made immortal. Say you find the book, say you find the book and find an answer. What then?”

Now Maxim did seem interested in what Boy was saying.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, suppose the book tells you a magical thing to do to him, to make him live forever. A spell or whatever. You do this thing to the emperor, and he thinks he’s immortal.”

“What of it?”

“Well, how’s he going to know any different unless he dies?”

There was a long silence, during which Maxim stared hard at Boy. The moment was broken by a knock at the door. The younger serving girl came in.

“Maxim, sir,” she began.

“Not now!” Maxim shouted.

“But, sir, the emperor wants you. Right now, sir.”

“Dammit!” Maxim said, rising from his chair. “Very well, I’m coming.”

He turned to Boy.

“Don’t go anywhere, will you?” he said, smiling. “You’ve reached the end of your usefulness. You will stay here until I think what to do with you.”

Boy stood up.

“But, sir,” the girl said to Maxim. “His Highness wants to see Boy, too. He says he’s to attend court from now on.”

Maxim swore and grabbed her by the arm.

“Are you sure?” he barked, but there was no reason to suppose otherwise. He let her go, kicked a chair over and stormed from the room.

“Get here!” he yelled over his shoulder.

Boy skittered out the door after Maxim, marveling at how his life might just have been saved by the City’s legendary, lunatic, decrepit emperor.

9

Willow. The first thing Boy saw on entering court, through the crowds of people, was Willow. She had spotted him immediately too, and smiled. Boy risked a smile back, while Maxim’s attention was taken with hurrying over to the emperor, who was already sitting in his throne, awaiting them.

“So, Maxim, you have failed again!”

The emperor’s weedy voice sailed over the hushed courtroom. The silence that followed was absolute.

Boy could sense the tension in the room. Even during his short time there he had learnt what a perilous existence they all led, living on the emperor’s whims. Maxim was no exception.

“Well, Maxim, what do you have to say?”

Boy took his chance.

He had lagged behind Maxim, on whom the whole attention of the court was now focused. Ever so slowly, trying to think himself as small and unnoticeable as possible, Boy sidestepped toward Willow and Kepler. No one seemed to notice; all eyes in the room were fixed on the scene playing out between Frederick and Maxim.

“Well! You have failed to find the book! What exactly do you intend to do now?”

Maxim took a step forward and seemed to be about to speak, but Frederick was working himself up into a rage.

“I charge you with one simple duty, and you consistently fail to deliver your promises! I swear you are doing it deliberately! You want me to die, do you? Do you? Well, you’ll be gone long before me, Maxim. I’ve had enough! I’ve had enough of your pathetic excuses, and it won’t be allowed to continue!”

Boy had made it to Willow’s side.

He brushed the back of her hand with his, but could think of nothing to say.

“Boy,” Willow said.

Kepler turned and saw who it was.

He smiled, then frowned. He glared at Boy.

“You mustn’t be seen with us,” he hissed. “It’s dangerous.”

“You don’t understand,” Boy whispered back. “It’s more dangerous here than you know.”

“What do you mean?” Willow asked.

Boy was about to answer, but one of the ladies standing nearby was looking at them. Boy turned away from Willow and pretended to watch the scene unfolding in front of them. After a while he spoke to Willow without looking at her, keeping his eyes on Frederick and Maxim.

“It’s dangerous. Those two for a start,” he whispered, and nodded slightly toward the dais. “But there’s something else. The Phantom. The Phantom lives here, under the palace.”

Boy risked looking round at Willow. Her face was a picture of confusion. Boy looked forward again.

“Later,” he whispered so quietly that only she could hear. “Meet me here tonight.”

Finally Maxim managed to speak.

“Sire, I wonder how you came across the news that I do not have the book?”

“From the captain of the Imperial Guard.”

“But my men—”

“
Your
men, Maxim?
Your
men? The Imperial Guard are mine. They do not serve you! They serve me! You forget your place. The Imperial Guard exist to serve me, and earlier today I spoke to their captain, who tells me that the book was not found on their expedition across the City!”

Frederick was so angry that he might do anything.

“But, sire,” Maxim said calmly, “we do have the book.”

He stopped to emphasize his words.

“What?” said Frederick, crisply.

Boy and Willow were transfixed.

“We
do
have the book,” Maxim continued. “It
was
found on the mission to the City. Even now it is in my chambers. I was on my way here to bring you this great news. I will begin consultation immediately, after I have . . . spoken to the captain of the Guard.”

Boy turned to Willow, who shook her head ever so slightly. Of course he didn’t have the book, so what game was he playing at? Whatever it was, Boy knew the stakes were being raised ever higher with each passing moment.

“When can I see it?” Frederick asked deliberately.

“But, sire, I thought it best if it remained safe with me,” Maxim said cautiously. He approached the dais, and whispered.

“After what happened . . . before, it might be best to keep it hidden. . . .”

Frederick’s face was a horrible picture. Memories contorted his features into anguish. The look froze on his face, briefly; then he shook himself.

“Yes,” he said, feebly. “Yes. You’re right.”

Maxim stood upright again and spoke brightly.

“Is it not wonderful news? At last our goal is in sight.”

Frederick nodded, looking like a child in his huge throne.

“Yes” was all he said.

“I shall ensconce myself in my rooms. I will devote all hours of day and night to this endeavor. I will consult and scry and when I have an answer from the book we will prepare to make you . . . immortal!”

He finished with a flourish so extravagant that the whole court burst into applause without even really wanting to.

Frederick sat on his throne, his mouth twitching slightly, as he tried and failed to regain his composure, though no one noticed.

While people were talking and clapping, Boy leant in to Willow so that only she could hear him.

“Are you locked in?”

Willow shook her head.

“Good, then tonight. After midnight.”

Kepler grabbed Willow’s arm and began to pull her away. She was about to protest when she saw that Maxim was striding toward Boy. The court was over and people were starting to leave. Maxim came up to Boy and glanced at Willow and Kepler. He seemed to be about to say something.

“Are we going now?” Boy said quickly to Maxim, trying to show no interest in Willow or Kepler. “Can I help you?”

Maxim was still looking at Willow, a question on his lips, but now he turned to Boy.

“Help me? Help me!” he snorted. He grabbed Boy and began to walk him out of the court. Boy dared not risk a look back at Willow.

“Of course you can’t help me. But unfortunately, Emperor Frederick thinks you are useful, so you will come with me for the time being. When I have made him immortal, however, it will be a different story.”

They had left the room now and were heading back upstairs.

“What?” Boy asked. “What will happen to me then?”

Maxim didn’t break step.

“You will have outlived your usefulness. You and all those tricksters and charlatans who hang around him like flies on a carcass.”

“But you don’t even have the book!” Boy cried.

That did make Maxim stop. He slapped his hand over Boy’s mouth and pushed him against a wall.

“Do you want everyone in the palace to hear?” he snapped. “Keep that to yourself, or I’ll finish you now, and tell Frederick you had an accident.”

He held his hand on Boy’s mouth, until a serving girl appeared at one end of the corridor. He let Boy go and pulled him into a walk again.

“So be careful,” he said. “Be careful what you say. Anyway, you won’t have a chance to speak to anyone else. You can stay in your room until I’m ready for you.”

“But how are you going to make him immortal? You don’t have the book.”

They were at the doors to Boy’s chamber.

Maxim pushed him inside and closed the door behind them, so the guard outside could not hear.

“No!” he said. “I don’t have the book. And I don’t need it either.”

He turned to leave, and opened the door again.

“I don’t understand,” Boy said.

“Really? You should. It was you who provided the solution. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. I have been too absorbed by it all, maybe. It doesn’t matter now. You will excuse me. I have to visit the captain of the Guard. I think it’s time he was replaced.”