called over his shoulder.
Then he was swallowed by the shadows.
9 Everybody Is Small at Night
In the middle of the night, while everybody was asleep, Prosper got up. He pulled the blanket over Bo's exposed feet and fished his flashlight from underneath the pillows. Then he put on his jacket and crept past the others. Riccio was tossing and turning in his sleep and Mosca was holding on tight to his sea horse. One of Bo's kittens was sleeping on Hornet's pillow, its head hidden in her brown hair.
Prosper opened the door of the emergency exit and shuddered as the cold air assaulted him. It was a starlit night and the moon shimmered on the canal behind the movie theater. The houses on the opposite side were dark -- except for one window, where a light still shined. Someone else who can't sleep, Prosper thought. A few broad, worn steps led down to the water. They looked as if they led all the way to the bottom of the canal. Deeper and deeper, and into another world. Once he had sat by the canal with Bo and Mosca, and Bo had claimed that mermen and mermaids had built those steps. Mosca had asked him how they used them with their slippery fishtails. Prosper smiled as he remembered. He sat down on the topmost step and looked across the moonlit surface of the water. The canal showed the blurred reflections of the houses, just as it had done long before Prosper had been born, before his parents and even his grandparents had been born. Often, as he walked through the city, Prosper ran his fingers along the walls. The stones in Venice felt very different, everything was different from anything he had known before.
Prosper tried not to think about it. He wasn't homesick -- he hadn't been for a long time, not even at night. This was his home now. The city had welcomed Bo and him like a great, gentle animal. It had hidden them in its winding alleys and had enchanted them with its exotic sounds and strange smells. It had even provided them with friends. Prosper didn't ever want to leave again. Never. He had grown so used to hearing the water smack and slurp against wood and stone.
But what if they had to run again? Just because of that man with the walrus mustache? Prosper and Riccio still hadn't told the others about their pursuer. But they were all in danger, for if the detective got on to Prosper and Bo's trail, then he would also find the Star-Palace and the others. The others...Mosca, who didn't want to go back to his family because they didn't even miss him; for Riccio, there was only the children's home; Hornet, who never told them anything about her old life because it just made her too sad; and -- Scipio. Prosper shivered. He wrapped his arms around his knees. What if the detective also got onto the trail of the Thief Lord while he searched for Prosper and Bo? A fine thank you that would be to Scipio for taking them under his wing.
On the wet steps lay a torn vaporetto ticket. Prosper let it flutter down into the canal and watched it drift out of sight.
It's no good; I have to tell them about the detective, Prosper thought. But how could he do that without Bo finding out? Bo, who felt so safe, and who believed that Esther would never follow them to Venice, because that's what his big brother had told him.
A shadow moved behind the lit window in the house opposite. Then the light went off. Prosper got up. The stone steps were cold and wet and he was freezing. He would tell the others about the walrus mustache, right now, while Bo was still asleep. Perhaps then Scipio would forget about Barbarossa's offer. But maybe -- Prosper could hardly bear the thought -- maybe Scipio would send him and Bo away. And what then?
Prosper returned to the movie theater with a heavy heart.
"Hornet, wake up!" Prosper shook her very gently by the shoulder, but Hornet shot up so fast that the kitten rolled off her pillow like a ball. "What is it?" she mumbled, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
"Nothing, I just have to tell you all
Then he was swallowed by the shadows.
9 Everybody Is Small at Night
In the middle of the night, while everybody was asleep, Prosper got up. He pulled the blanket over Bo's exposed feet and fished his flashlight from underneath the pillows. Then he put on his jacket and crept past the others. Riccio was tossing and turning in his sleep and Mosca was holding on tight to his sea horse. One of Bo's kittens was sleeping on Hornet's pillow, its head hidden in her brown hair.
Prosper opened the door of the emergency exit and shuddered as the cold air assaulted him. It was a starlit night and the moon shimmered on the canal behind the movie theater. The houses on the opposite side were dark -- except for one window, where a light still shined. Someone else who can't sleep, Prosper thought. A few broad, worn steps led down to the water. They looked as if they led all the way to the bottom of the canal. Deeper and deeper, and into another world. Once he had sat by the canal with Bo and Mosca, and Bo had claimed that mermen and mermaids had built those steps. Mosca had asked him how they used them with their slippery fishtails. Prosper smiled as he remembered. He sat down on the topmost step and looked across the moonlit surface of the water. The canal showed the blurred reflections of the houses, just as it had done long before Prosper had been born, before his parents and even his grandparents had been born. Often, as he walked through the city, Prosper ran his fingers along the walls. The stones in Venice felt very different, everything was different from anything he had known before.
Prosper tried not to think about it. He wasn't homesick -- he hadn't been for a long time, not even at night. This was his home now. The city had welcomed Bo and him like a great, gentle animal. It had hidden them in its winding alleys and had enchanted them with its exotic sounds and strange smells. It had even provided them with friends. Prosper didn't ever want to leave again. Never. He had grown so used to hearing the water smack and slurp against wood and stone.
But what if they had to run again? Just because of that man with the walrus mustache? Prosper and Riccio still hadn't told the others about their pursuer. But they were all in danger, for if the detective got on to Prosper and Bo's trail, then he would also find the Star-Palace and the others. The others...Mosca, who didn't want to go back to his family because they didn't even miss him; for Riccio, there was only the children's home; Hornet, who never told them anything about her old life because it just made her too sad; and -- Scipio. Prosper shivered. He wrapped his arms around his knees. What if the detective also got onto the trail of the Thief Lord while he searched for Prosper and Bo? A fine thank you that would be to Scipio for taking them under his wing.
On the wet steps lay a torn vaporetto ticket. Prosper let it flutter down into the canal and watched it drift out of sight.
It's no good; I have to tell them about the detective, Prosper thought. But how could he do that without Bo finding out? Bo, who felt so safe, and who believed that Esther would never follow them to Venice, because that's what his big brother had told him.
A shadow moved behind the lit window in the house opposite. Then the light went off. Prosper got up. The stone steps were cold and wet and he was freezing. He would tell the others about the walrus mustache, right now, while Bo was still asleep. Perhaps then Scipio would forget about Barbarossa's offer. But maybe -- Prosper could hardly bear the thought -- maybe Scipio would send him and Bo away. And what then?
Prosper returned to the movie theater with a heavy heart.
"Hornet, wake up!" Prosper shook her very gently by the shoulder, but Hornet shot up so fast that the kitten rolled off her pillow like a ball. "What is it?" she mumbled, rubbing sleep out of her eyes.
"Nothing, I just have to tell you all
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