black casket that sat under the middle of the dome, as close as we could possibly get to being directly underneath the centre of it.
“Hey, what’s up?” He wheeled around and stepped back towards me, smiling. His beautiful face was worn and tired, looking as if a million cares and worries were heaped on him.
“Are … are you OK?” I asked hesitantly. He had looked just fine in the mirror earlier. I couldn’t imagine what it was that had affected him so drastically.
“I’m fine.” He smiled at me but the lines etched in his face didn’t match his words. He saw my frown and instantly looked even worse. “What’s the matter? Has something else happened?” He stood in front of me, his amulet within mine, the shimmer of his translucent figure strangely clear in the dim lighting of the crypt.
“It’s not me. You look … so tired. I’ve never seen you look anything other than perfect before. Has something terrible happened since this morning?”
He blushed briefly at the compliment, but the worry was still evident on his face. “No, nothing. In fact I’m really excited about getting up to the top of the dome with you.”
“I don’t understand then. Why do you look so awful?”
His puzzled frown was suddenly replaced by one of comprehension. “Of course, you can see it too!”
“See what?”
“We don’t tend to come down here too much because this far down under the dome it shows our general state of mind. I guess I look pretty miserable to you?”
I nodded mutely as a couple of tourists stopped to peer at the tomb, then moved on.
“I … I thought you were excited. You just said you were, but you look, well, devastated.”
“Huh, believe me, this isn’t close to devastated. As you know I’m about the happiest Dirge there is, and I still look suicidal down here. It’s why we hide in our hoods. Catherine only came the once. I never want to see anything like that again.” He shuddered at the memory.
“So this is how miserable you ought to look? Is that right?”
“That’s what I reckon. Some people, especially those that have been here for a long time, they don’t look much different at all when they come down here, but I guess that’s because they’ve long since given up on trying to keep a balanced view. I’m a bit luckier than that.”
I looked at him with open curiosity. He was solid enough for me to see the lines in his face, the shadows under the eyes, the gaunt cheeks. “Honestly, Callum, you look middle-aged down here. Let’s get up to the top where you are your usual gorgeous self.”
“Suits me,” he smiled, momentarily lighting up his gloomy face. “Next time we take this short-cut I’ll keep my hood up so I don’t frighten you.”
I smiled back, but a small shiver ran down my spine. Theamulet and St Paul’s were doing their best to make my life truly weird as usual.
As we walked across the big mosaic star in the main part of the cathedral I stole another glance at him, and was relieved to see that at ground level he was looking more his usual self. Before we got to the bottom of the main staircase he stopped me.
“Can I ask a favour?”
“Of course.”
“Do you mind making a short stop at the Whispering Gallery? There’s someone there who would really like to talk to you.”
I hesitated a fraction too long. I didn’t really want to talk to Matthew again. It was a strangely intimate thing to do, letting someone else into your head with the amulet. It didn’t feel right with anyone but Callum, but I realised I probably shouldn’t let him know that. “Sure, whatever. Do you know what he wants to talk about?”
“It’s not Matthew, it’s Olivia.”
“Oh. What does she want to talk to me for?”
“She feels really bad about what happened with Catherine, and she’s worried that you think some of it was her fault.”
I felt a brief twinge of guilt. I had taken an automatic dislike to Olivia, never having even seen her, just because Catherine had
“Hey, what’s up?” He wheeled around and stepped back towards me, smiling. His beautiful face was worn and tired, looking as if a million cares and worries were heaped on him.
“Are … are you OK?” I asked hesitantly. He had looked just fine in the mirror earlier. I couldn’t imagine what it was that had affected him so drastically.
“I’m fine.” He smiled at me but the lines etched in his face didn’t match his words. He saw my frown and instantly looked even worse. “What’s the matter? Has something else happened?” He stood in front of me, his amulet within mine, the shimmer of his translucent figure strangely clear in the dim lighting of the crypt.
“It’s not me. You look … so tired. I’ve never seen you look anything other than perfect before. Has something terrible happened since this morning?”
He blushed briefly at the compliment, but the worry was still evident on his face. “No, nothing. In fact I’m really excited about getting up to the top of the dome with you.”
“I don’t understand then. Why do you look so awful?”
His puzzled frown was suddenly replaced by one of comprehension. “Of course, you can see it too!”
“See what?”
“We don’t tend to come down here too much because this far down under the dome it shows our general state of mind. I guess I look pretty miserable to you?”
I nodded mutely as a couple of tourists stopped to peer at the tomb, then moved on.
“I … I thought you were excited. You just said you were, but you look, well, devastated.”
“Huh, believe me, this isn’t close to devastated. As you know I’m about the happiest Dirge there is, and I still look suicidal down here. It’s why we hide in our hoods. Catherine only came the once. I never want to see anything like that again.” He shuddered at the memory.
“So this is how miserable you ought to look? Is that right?”
“That’s what I reckon. Some people, especially those that have been here for a long time, they don’t look much different at all when they come down here, but I guess that’s because they’ve long since given up on trying to keep a balanced view. I’m a bit luckier than that.”
I looked at him with open curiosity. He was solid enough for me to see the lines in his face, the shadows under the eyes, the gaunt cheeks. “Honestly, Callum, you look middle-aged down here. Let’s get up to the top where you are your usual gorgeous self.”
“Suits me,” he smiled, momentarily lighting up his gloomy face. “Next time we take this short-cut I’ll keep my hood up so I don’t frighten you.”
I smiled back, but a small shiver ran down my spine. Theamulet and St Paul’s were doing their best to make my life truly weird as usual.
As we walked across the big mosaic star in the main part of the cathedral I stole another glance at him, and was relieved to see that at ground level he was looking more his usual self. Before we got to the bottom of the main staircase he stopped me.
“Can I ask a favour?”
“Of course.”
“Do you mind making a short stop at the Whispering Gallery? There’s someone there who would really like to talk to you.”
I hesitated a fraction too long. I didn’t really want to talk to Matthew again. It was a strangely intimate thing to do, letting someone else into your head with the amulet. It didn’t feel right with anyone but Callum, but I realised I probably shouldn’t let him know that. “Sure, whatever. Do you know what he wants to talk about?”
“It’s not Matthew, it’s Olivia.”
“Oh. What does she want to talk to me for?”
“She feels really bad about what happened with Catherine, and she’s worried that you think some of it was her fault.”
I felt a brief twinge of guilt. I had taken an automatic dislike to Olivia, never having even seen her, just because Catherine had
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