The Dark Flight Down by Marcus Sedgwick Page A

walking along the line of tables, inspecting the things lying there.
    Unable to move himself upright, Boy had a rather sideways view of what was going on. Nonetheless, he could sense there was something familiar about Maxim. It was in the way he moved, the way he looked at the emperor and the way he seemed to be restraining his voice whenever he spoke. There was something restless about him, something hungry, though Boy did not know what it was exactly.
    “Magical apparatus, sire!” Maxim announced from across the room.
    Frederick yawned, opened his eyes for a second, then shut them again.
    “Why did we have to do this so early in the day?” he sniped at Maxim. “You know my stomach hurts if I have to arise early.”
    “It’s nearly noon,” Maxim said, calmly, “and I thought the matter too urgent to wait. This magical equipment could hold the secret to occult powers that may aid us in our quest.”
    Boy looked at the things Maxim had indicated and frowned. He didn’t see that a box that chickens disappeared into, and a device for making smoke screens for Valerian’s stage act were going to be of much use for anything the emperor could be interested in.
    Maxim and the other members of court moved on, then stopped at the next group of tables.
    “Books, sire,” Maxim announced to Frederick, who remained with his eyes shut, and waved a hand dismissively.
    “What of it? We have lots of books.”
    Maxim bit his tongue.
    “Yes, sire, but the magician was known to have certain books of considerable power. Certain. Books.”
    He paused, thinking Frederick would respond to this, but the Emperor was barely listening. Maxim sighed and went on.
    “It may be that some answer to our search lies within one of these tomes. I will bend my researches in their direction, scour every page for the slightest clue.”
    He flourished a hand at the hundreds of books stacked in crazy piles on the tables.
    And that should keep him off my back for a while,
Maxim thought, but said nothing. Instead, he spread a large and very fake smile across his face and continued.
    “In fact,” Maxim went on, “I am convinced our solution lies in that direction. The magician . . .”
    But Maxim stopped midsentence. He had seen something that surprised him. Curled up on one of the tables, with hands and legs tied behind him, was a thin youth with spiky hair.
    For a moment Maxim was thrown. He glanced at one of the porters, who rapidly whispered in his ear.
    “The magician’s famulus!” Maxim declared.
    Frederick coughed and opened his eyes. He followed Maxim’s hand pointing to where Boy lay.
    “His what?” he spluttered.
    “His assistant,” Maxim replied. “His apprentice. His . . . boy. We found him in the ruins of the house, he belonged to the magician. We believe he may be of considerable use in explaining many of the practices and skills of the magician himself.”
    Boy frowned, wishing he could scratch an itch that had started on his nose.
    There was silence. The emperor stared, his little eyes blinking slowly.
    “Maxim, I have had enough,” he said.
    “But, sire, this is a great development in our search. We are getting closer—”
    “Shut up!” Frederick whined. “Shut up! We are not getting closer to anything. I am getting closer to lunchtime, and I haven’t even had my breakfast yet.”
    “Sire . . .”
    “And you, Maxim, are getting closer to the executioner’s block.”
    “Sire, I—”
    “Understand me, Maxim. I mean you to succeed in this quest. That is vital. But
how
you do it is of no interest to me whatsoever. Understand? So get me a chair to take me to breakfast, and make sure that damn chef does the eggs properly. You know they make me ill if they’re too runny. I swear he’s trying to kill me.”
    “Yes, sire, I—” Maxim tried again, but the emperor was not listening.
    “I’m running out of patience, really I am. You had better find an answer soon. Where’s that blasted chair? I can’t wait all day,