Free The Dark Flight Down by Marcus Sedgwick Page B

and had luxurious chambers in which to live. But things could not stay that way forever, and Maxim’s schemes were going slightly awry.
    For the moment, it worked well enough to help Frederick on his mad quest, until such time as Maxim had his plans in place; to keep his position and power whether the emperor was alive or not. But he was not ready for that yet, not by a long way. He saw that maybe the book was the answer to his problems, one way or another.
    “You say you can divine the future?” Frederick asked. He didn’t do it directly, but spoke through Maxim.
    Maxim repeated the emperor’s question, and the man eagerly nodded.
    “Oh yes,” he said. “Oh yes!”
    “Very well,” said Frederick to Maxim. “See what he can do.”
    “The emperor wishes to see an example of your skill,” Maxim said.
    “Very well. Of course!” the man said, looking a little nervous. He began to rummage in his bag and pulled out a tray and some cups.
    “I will ask one of you,” he said, speaking very quickly, ‘to hide this ball beneath one of the cups and—”
    “Enough,” said the emperor quietly.
    Maxim stepped forward.
    “Stop!” he said to the man. “We have enough prestidigitators already. We are seeking genuine clairvoyant ability. You will have to do better than this. Let me show you.”
    Maxim called to the back of the court.
    “Wolfram! Come here!”
    A murmur spread through the room as the crowds parted to let a strange-looking man walk forward to the dais where Frederick sat. He was dressed very plainly, and wore a cap with brown feathers poking out of it. He mumbled to himself as he walked. He was one of the seers of the court, whose occupation was to scry the future for Frederick. This particular seer must have been reasonably good, for he had been in court for several years. The less accurate tended to vanish, quickly.
    “Sire?” he said, without emotion.
    Frederick nodded at Maxim.
    Maxim turned back to the applicant.
    “You say you can foretell the future. So tell us. What is going to happen to you in the next five minutes?”
    The man dropped his bag, and wiped his forehead.
    “I . . . I don’t . . . ,” he began, then steadied himself. “I mean, I think I will be happy to accept your generous offer of a position in your command.”
    He forced a wide smile.
    Maxim turned to the seer.
    “Seer?” he asked.
    For the first time a glimmer of emotion showed on Wolfram’s face. He shut his eyes and a frown developed. He opened his eyes, now moist, but it was a flat, almost disembodied, voice that spoke to Maxim.
    “He will die.”
    That was all. He turned and shambled back into the crowd.
    “Ha!” said Frederick. “Correct! He is correct!”
    The man began to protest.
    “You can’t do that. He can’t . . . It’s a set-up! You can’t just kill me. . . .”
    He stepped forward and pulled a knife from inside his tunic. Instantly, without fuss, two guards closed in on him and slew him where he stood.
    “Silly man,” said Frederick. “Oh, do take him away. Don’t just stand there! He’s bleeding on my carpets.”
    Maxim sighed. It was a scene he had seen too often to find amusing anymore.
    His thoughts turned back to the strange boy in the dungeon.

10
    As soon as the blind jailer left, Boy wasted no time.
    He’d come back with more slop, and more oil for the lamp, having finally smelt that it had gone out.
    He was in no particular hurry as he lowered the lamp on its long chain from the center of the ceiling, and poured more oil into its base.
    Boy saw a scratch of sparks away in the center of the dungeon and the lamp was lit.
    The jailer hoisted it back to the ceiling, brought Boy his food and once more took a second bowl somewhere else.
    Now he was gone, and Boy took out his lockpick and set himself free again. He headed straight toward the dungeon’s far wall, in the direction the jailer had taken.
    When Boy was a little less than halfway across, having averted his eyes from the hideous