The Dark Flight Down Read Free Page A

whimper. She knew that simply because something was gone from sight did not mean it was gone from memory, and she missed her master.
    The snow fell, and Boy shut his mind to everything but its falling.
    Now he knew what was strange about the funeral. All these people were united by the one thing that wasn’t there: the dead. It was the first funeral Boy had ever been to, and it struck him as profoundly strange.
    Korp was not the only person missed by the mourners. It seemed strange that Valerian was not there too. As people started to drift away, Boy looked across the gathering, and caught a glimpse of a tall figure in black striding along the street. For a second he thought it was his dead master come back to life.
    It was only a priest hurrying through the snow.
    Suddenly the old violinist who had often been kind to Boy clapped his hands.
    “Wait! We cannot leave it at that! Will you join me, friends, in celebrating the life of our dear director?”
    People murmured and nodded.
    “Quite so!” someone called.
    “To the Feather, then?” the violinist said. “The first drinks are on me!”
    Boy had lost sight of Willow, then saw her through the crowd, beckoning him.
    “Can we go?” Boy asked Kepler. “Can we go to the Feather?”
    “No,” said Kepler. “We’ve done what we came to do.”
    But before they could move, the old violinist, Georg, and a couple of his friends came over to where Boy and Kepler stood. Without a glance at Kepler, they fussed over Boy, walking him away from the grave, along with everyone else heading for the tavern, and Kepler could do nothing but follow, hopping at their heels like an unwanted dog.
    Boy could feel his feet again. Somewhere in the crowd of people up ahead was Willow. That in itself gave Boy warmth.

5
    “So you’re the boy’s new master?”
    Now Boy and Kepler found themselves sitting squashed around a table in the filthy tavern called the Feather. Talk quickly moved from the uncertain future of the theater to Valerian, and then to Boy. Boy watched, squirming uneasily while Georg and the others questioned Kepler. Willow was nearby, picking greedily at a bowl of intensely sweet raisins in the middle of the table. She glanced over at Boy, smiling.
    Kepler saw this.
    “We must go. Boy and I have work to do,” he said for the fourth time in as many minutes, but no one got up to let him out.
    A large man on Kepler’s left smiled at Boy.
    “Run and fetch the barmaid, will you? More drinks all round.”
    “And get her to bring some absinthe, eh? A game of snapdragon, anyone? Korp would have loved that!”
    There was a loud cheer round the table as Boy pushed his way through to find the barmaid, trying to catch Willow’s eye as he left.
    By the time he got back, they’d already found a bottle of absinthe somewhere else. They had dispensed with beer in favor of this devilish green liquor, and had embarked upon a game of snapdragon.
    Boy loved this game, largely because he usually got away without having to play himself, just watching as others fell off their chairs from the drink. He almost felt sorry for Kepler, who had obviously never heard of snapdragon before, and was about to learn all about it the hard way.
    “Right,” Georg was saying to Kepler, “now you know how to play, let’s do it properly.”
    On the table was a small saucer into which a little of the absinthe had been poured. A handful of raisins was added. The game was to pick up a raisin from the saucer and eat it. If you succeeded, the play moved round to the next person at the table. If you dropped the raisin, you had to sink a glass of the drink.
    “What do you mean, properly?” Kepler asked Georg.
    “Well, that time we were just showing you how it’s played. Now we’re going to do it properly. Wilfred? Will you?”
    And Wilfred, the strong man, took a box of matches from his pocket, and set light to the absinthe.
    “You can start,” Wilfred said, smiling at Kepler.
    “What? But it’s