smoke in his lungs while he thought, and then exhaled. ‘I’m not an animal,’ he said. ‘And who is it, telling you this? Doing this?’
‘Everybody.’ Billy was wearing one of those stupid grey robes they dressed the kids up in, and it was far toolong, pooling around his feet. Bit tight around the middle, though. Pyramidders didn’t want for food. Billy was six years old but he looked older to Alan. Not that Alan knew any other six-year-olds. There were families living in the House of a Thousand Hollows, but Alan tried his hardest to avoid them. He didn’t even know Billy that well, truth be told. Still, to Alan’s mind, children were brought up too quickly in the Pyramid.
Billy’s eyes were big and round inside his big round face, and big round tears hung trembling from his long eyelashes. ‘Everybody tells me, Dad. They tell me you’re no good at all.’
‘Son,’ Alan said, ‘I don’t know if I’m any good or not.’ He sat down, back to the wall, and took Billy’s hands again. ‘Don’t stick up for me if it means getting hurt.’
Billy scowled. ‘I don’t,’ he said. He yanked his hands away from Alan and walked over to the low wall that guarded against the drop. Beyond the wall, the smooth black stone of the Pyramid sloped steeply down into the blasted wasteland that surrounded it. Alan joined Billy at the wall and looked out. On the other side of the wasteland, the buildings of the Discard were black silhouettes against the stars: a skyline of mills and chimneys, ruins and scaffolding, domes and turrets. Columns of smoke rose from it, clear in the bright moons, and the flames of torches and campfires could be seen nestled amongst the architecture.
‘How can you live out there, Dad?’ Billy asked.
Far down inside Alan’s chest the familiar pain was back. ‘I’m sorry, son,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have chosen this.’ He took a hip-flask from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and drank deeply from it. ‘I’m sorry they pick on you.’
‘Probably they would pick on me anyway.’ Billy’s voice was resigned. ‘I’m fat.’
‘You’re not fat.’ Alan put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. ‘Don’t say that, son.’
‘Eating is my favourite thing.’
‘Billy, I need to know about your hand.’
‘Vurnit got chosen for the Alchemists. I wanted to get chosen for the Alchemists but I didn’t, Vurnit did. We’re in the same batch but he still got chosen.’
‘You could get chosen when you’re older. But maybe you’ll change your mind about what you want to be.’
Please, please let him change his mind
. ‘What if you got chosen for the Alchemists and then decided you wanted to be a cook, or a gardener? You’d be stuck then, wouldn’t you?’
Billy wrinkled his nose. ‘Those are jobs for stupid people,’ he said. ‘I want to be an Alchemist.’
Alan wanted to scream.
‘So they gave Vurnit his pendant,’ Billy resumed. ‘I asked him to see it – you know how they make them all different – and he said no.’ He paused. ‘Vurnit is very thin and clever. His robe fits him just right. Everybody likes him because he’s funny but he’s not funny in front of the teachers.’
Though Alan’s childhood had been vastly different from Billy’s, he reckoned it was probably a universal amongst six-year-olds that ‘funny’ was a euphemism for ‘naughty’.
‘Is he a friend?’
‘Kind of.’ Billy nodded vigorously. ‘But he wouldn’t let me see it. He was showing it to the others but he put it in his pocket whenever I went over to him. I didn’t even want to see it that much, I was angry with him, but Mum had told me I should try and make friends.’
Alan took another swig from the flask. ‘You should listen to your mother,’ he said.
‘I do. Anyway, I asked him if I could see it and he was just ignoring me.’ The tears were welling up again. ‘Everybody was nice to him all day and nobody was talking to me. And I’d be a better Alchemist anyway.
‘Everybody.’ Billy was wearing one of those stupid grey robes they dressed the kids up in, and it was far toolong, pooling around his feet. Bit tight around the middle, though. Pyramidders didn’t want for food. Billy was six years old but he looked older to Alan. Not that Alan knew any other six-year-olds. There were families living in the House of a Thousand Hollows, but Alan tried his hardest to avoid them. He didn’t even know Billy that well, truth be told. Still, to Alan’s mind, children were brought up too quickly in the Pyramid.
Billy’s eyes were big and round inside his big round face, and big round tears hung trembling from his long eyelashes. ‘Everybody tells me, Dad. They tell me you’re no good at all.’
‘Son,’ Alan said, ‘I don’t know if I’m any good or not.’ He sat down, back to the wall, and took Billy’s hands again. ‘Don’t stick up for me if it means getting hurt.’
Billy scowled. ‘I don’t,’ he said. He yanked his hands away from Alan and walked over to the low wall that guarded against the drop. Beyond the wall, the smooth black stone of the Pyramid sloped steeply down into the blasted wasteland that surrounded it. Alan joined Billy at the wall and looked out. On the other side of the wasteland, the buildings of the Discard were black silhouettes against the stars: a skyline of mills and chimneys, ruins and scaffolding, domes and turrets. Columns of smoke rose from it, clear in the bright moons, and the flames of torches and campfires could be seen nestled amongst the architecture.
‘How can you live out there, Dad?’ Billy asked.
Far down inside Alan’s chest the familiar pain was back. ‘I’m sorry, son,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have chosen this.’ He took a hip-flask from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and drank deeply from it. ‘I’m sorry they pick on you.’
‘Probably they would pick on me anyway.’ Billy’s voice was resigned. ‘I’m fat.’
‘You’re not fat.’ Alan put his hand on Billy’s shoulder. ‘Don’t say that, son.’
‘Eating is my favourite thing.’
‘Billy, I need to know about your hand.’
‘Vurnit got chosen for the Alchemists. I wanted to get chosen for the Alchemists but I didn’t, Vurnit did. We’re in the same batch but he still got chosen.’
‘You could get chosen when you’re older. But maybe you’ll change your mind about what you want to be.’
Please, please let him change his mind
. ‘What if you got chosen for the Alchemists and then decided you wanted to be a cook, or a gardener? You’d be stuck then, wouldn’t you?’
Billy wrinkled his nose. ‘Those are jobs for stupid people,’ he said. ‘I want to be an Alchemist.’
Alan wanted to scream.
‘So they gave Vurnit his pendant,’ Billy resumed. ‘I asked him to see it – you know how they make them all different – and he said no.’ He paused. ‘Vurnit is very thin and clever. His robe fits him just right. Everybody likes him because he’s funny but he’s not funny in front of the teachers.’
Though Alan’s childhood had been vastly different from Billy’s, he reckoned it was probably a universal amongst six-year-olds that ‘funny’ was a euphemism for ‘naughty’.
‘Is he a friend?’
‘Kind of.’ Billy nodded vigorously. ‘But he wouldn’t let me see it. He was showing it to the others but he put it in his pocket whenever I went over to him. I didn’t even want to see it that much, I was angry with him, but Mum had told me I should try and make friends.’
Alan took another swig from the flask. ‘You should listen to your mother,’ he said.
‘I do. Anyway, I asked him if I could see it and he was just ignoring me.’ The tears were welling up again. ‘Everybody was nice to him all day and nobody was talking to me. And I’d be a better Alchemist anyway.
Similar Books
