The Lightning Key Read Free Page A

his eyebrows at that moment.
    â€œSilverpoint,” she snapped, “don’t be such a pain!”
    Silverpoint raised his eyebrows (he still had them to raise) and looked at Miles, and for the first time Miles saw his ice-cool expression seem to melt a little.
    â€œWhich way did the thief go?” asked Silverpoint.
    Miles pointed along the darkened driveway. “He went that way, but he had a car or a van—I heard it start up. We’ll never catch him on foot.”
    Little and Silverpoint exchanged glances, and he gave a little smile. She turned back to Miles. “Are your trousers tied tightly?” she asked.
    Miles gave her a puzzled look. He checked the cord that held up his pajama trousers, and nodded.
    â€œGood,” said Little, and at the same momentMiles felt something grasp his coat between his shoulder blades. There was a loud Whump! , and he was twenty feet from the ground in an instant, rising rapidly into the heart of the storm with Little by his side. His overcoat held him by the armpits, and his stomach had been left somewhere far below. He looked down in astonishment and saw that they were already above the treetops, and when he twisted his head he could see Silverpoint above and between them, his eyes fixed on the night sky and his mouth a thin line across his pale face. The Storm Angel gripped them, one in either hand, and with every beat of his powerful wings he lifted them higher. Lightning struck away to their left, and Miles saw Little’s face lit with the pure joy of flight, even though on borrowed wings. Her delight was so infectious that he laughed giddily and almost forgot his fear. Almost.
    They had stopped rising now and were traveling at speed over stubbled fields, rain flying at them like a silver tunnel. They cut across the loops of the road until far below Miles could see yellow headlights careering through the darkness. Silverpoint swooped a little lower and began to follow their winding path. A car approached in the oppositedirection, and in its headlights Miles could see more clearly the outline of the vehicle they were pursuing, a battered circus van decorated with a laughing clown’s head and the words THE PALACE OF LAUGHTER .
    â€œI don’t think he’s alone,” shouted Miles. The wind whipped into his open mouth and left him gasping for breath.
    Little shook her head. “It’s Cortado,” she said. “It must be.”
    Miles nodded. He did not want to risk opening his mouth again. He thought of the malignant little ringmaster of the Palace of Laughter, who had been locked away in Saint Bonifacio’s Hospital for the Unhinged after Miles and Little had put an end to his sinister scheme, only to escape the hospital more twisted and dangerous than before. It would not surprise Miles to find that the Great Cortado himself was the driver of the van. As devious as Doctor Tau-Tau could be, Miles could not imagine him having the sheer audacity to enter Partridge Manor and steal the Tiger’s Egg from inside the bear’s head without orders from someone else. He tried to button his overcoat at the neck with frozen fingers, feeling for the lump in his pocket to reassure himself that Tangerine was still there.
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    The driving rain stung Miles’s face, but after a while the stinging faded into a kind of hot numbness. The steady beat of Silverpoint’s wings gave a reassuring rhythm to their flight. The Storm Angel’s grip had not slackened in the slightest, and Miles noticed that he was swooping and jinking as he flew. His face gave nothing away, but Little was laughing and whooping with delight with every curve of their flight. As his fear of falling began to melt away Miles felt the thrill of flying radiating from his stomach like a warm glow. Faint memories of many flying dreams rose in the back of his mind, as though they had all been foretastes of this moment. A grin spread across his face and he turned to look