The Dark Flight Down Read Free Page B

burning!”
    “Well, it wouldn’t be much of a game if it wasn’t,” Georg said, nudging Wilfred, who started chuckling.
    Kepler stared nervously around him, then at the saucer of burning raisins and absinthe. He darted his hand to the flames. He managed to pick one up, but dropped it on the table with a squeal and sucked his burned fingers.
    Everyone roared with laughter, and Wilfred shoved a glass of absinthe under his nose. Kepler looked at it miserably, then, with the strong man glaring at him, took a sip.
    “Not like that!” Wilfred cried, and pulling Kepler’s nose back, tipped the whole lot down his open mouth.
    Everyone hooted with laughter again, and play moved round to Wilfred, who deftly snatched a raisin and popped it into his mouth in a single motion.
    “Doesn’t it burn your fingers?” said a voice beside Boy, and there at last was Willow.
    Boy smiled and for a moment didn’t know what to do or say. He simply stared into her eyes, her face for once not framed by her hair, which she had pulled back into a bunch.
    “Or your mouth, come to that,” Willow added, staring as Georg took two at once, and flicked them into his mouth with professional skill.
    “Not if you do it quickly,” Boy replied. “And shut your mouth as soon as it’s in. I watched Valerian play this hundreds of times. He always won. It amused him, and he’d win money too, sometimes. There’d be everyone else drinking their heads off, and he’d just sit watching them.”
    Willow laughed, and without thinking, Boy laughed too.
    “I used to pick their pockets if I thought Valerian wasn’t watching!”
    “Boy!” said Willow. “You are bad!”
    “It meant I could buy something extra to eat . . . ,” Boy said defensively, but then saw Willow was only teasing.
    The game was getting noisier. Kepler tried to make one more attempt to leave, but Boy could see he was very drunk, and he fell back in his chair without anyone’s even making him stay this time.
    “Valerian could do it slowly, though, too,” Boy said. “When everyone was really drunk, he’d start to show off. He could pick one up ever so slowly, with his fingertips right in the fire, and slowly put the raisin on his tongue, and let it burn there for a bit, as if it wasn’t hurting at all. I don’t know how he did that.”
    Willow shrugged.
    “Maybe he was just good at controlling pain.”
    Boy said nothing, lost in memories.
    Controlling pain,
he thought.
    He roused himself and looked at Willow. She looked well enough. It had only been five days, but it felt like months.
    “Willow . . . ?”
    “I’m all right. He took me to an orphanage. I thought just to live there, but he’s got me a job. I didn’t like the idea at first, but it’s much nicer than the one I grew up in. I’ll even get paid! I sneaked out today. I’ll probably be in trouble, but it won’t be bad. There’s a woman who’s in charge. She’s quite fierce, but I think she’s soft enough underneath. She’s called Martha.”
    Boy stared at Willow, at her long brown hair and wax white face. He put his hand out to her cheek, and she took it away gently and held it in hers.
    “How are you, Boy?” she said softly. “Is he all right with you?”
    Boy wondered whom she meant, then realized she was talking about Kepler.
    “Yes. He feeds me. And doesn’t shout at me, and doesn’t beat me, or even get cross with me. It’s fine.”
    “But what are you doing?”
    “Nothing. He says he needs me to help him, but we’ve done nothing. I just sit in my room. I’ve been watching the snow, Willow. There’s so much of it. So much snow. It’s hard to recognize some bits of the City. Have you seen? Just so much snow.”
    Willow looked at Boy, a frown on her face. Then she forced a smile.
    “Will you stay with him?” she asked.
    Boy shrugged.
    “I don’t know. I suppose so. I don’t want to go back to the streets, even living with Valerian was better than that, and . . .”
    He stopped.
    “What