Free The Dark Flight Down by Marcus Sedgwick

hair, which made his large ears even more pronounced. He had the devil’s own deep voice.
    “Answer me, you insolent boy!” he barked at Boy. “What is your name?”
    Now Boy understood. Of course, the man in front of him didn’t know he was called Boy.
    “Boy,” Boy said.
    “Don’t try to be clever with me,” Maxim threatened, “or my patience may run out quicker than you would like.”
    “I’m not. Boy’s my name.”
    Maxim paused.
    “You . . .”
    “I don’t have a name,” Boy said helpfully.
    “You must have a name,” Maxim said. “What do people call you?”
    “Boy. They call me Boy. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I grew up on the streets. No one knows who my parents are.”
    “How touching,” said Maxim unkindly. “Very well. I shall call you Boy too. Listen to me, Boy. You are going to help me. I need information. And you’re going to give it to me. If you tell me what I need to know, I will reward you by letting you go free from here. Back to the streets. If you fail me, you’ll die down here.”
    Boy took a step back, despite the bars between them.
    “What . . . ,” he said, “what you want me to do? I don’t know anything.”
    “Yes, you do. Yes,” Maxim said. “You were until recently the famulus of the magician, Valerian. Correct?”
    Boy did not answer.
    “Correct?” Maxim shouted.
    “Yes,” said Boy. “Yes, I was.”
    “Then you must have been privy to his dealings. I know you assisted him in his work, both on- and offstage. Don’t look surprised. You think I don’t have men out in the City? I have spies everywhere and I know much about Valerian. For example, I know he was more than just a stage conjuror. Correct?”
    Boy nodded.
    “Yes, but I never really knew—”
    “Be quiet, Boy,” Maxim said harshly. “Wait until I ask you to think. Now, I know you know about his magical skills, and I also know he was looking for something shortly before his death. A book. You know about that?”
    Boy went cold.
    “No,” he said. “I don’t know about any book.”
    Maxim stepped right up to the bars of the cell.
    “You’re lying. Don’t lie to me, Boy, or I will get someone down here to hurt you. Tell me about the book.”
    Just to hear mention of the book was enough to put a chill in Boy’s heart. He had seen what it had done to Valerian and Kepler, he knew of its deceitful power. And yet he wanted it too.
    “I don’t know what you mean,” said Boy, backing away across the cell. His heels suddenly hit the back wall and he jumped. “I mean,” he said, “I know a little about his tricks, and I know he had lots of books, but I don’t know anything about them. I can’t read very well, you see.”
    “Be quiet!” Maxim said. “Don’t play games with me! I know you know about one particular book, one very special book. Where is it? Did Valerian find it before he died? Tell me!”
    Boy shook his head, and hoped his voice wasn’t shaking too badly.
    “I don’t know,” he cried, “I really don’t. I know about his tricks and some of the equipment, but I don’t know about a special book.”
    Maxim turned away, scowling. Boy held his breath, wondering if he’d been convincing enough. His mind was racing, as he frantically tried to work out whether Maxim could know about the book, and if so, from whom. And, more crucially, what he wanted it for.
    Maxim turned back to him.
    “That’s enough for now,” he said. He gave no sign betraying whether he believed Boy’s story. “I’ll be back soon. And you will be more forthcoming next time. I promise you that. I have plenty of need for blood down here, Boy, so think about what you do, and don’t, know. Think very carefully.”
    He moved off, still glowering at Boy, and then turned on his heel and spun away through the door.

9
    Maxim chewed his lip. He waited, at the right hand of Frederick’s throne, while the emperor considered the situation before him.
    The court was full. The usual crowd was