The Dark Flight Down (14 page)

13

Boy had spent the day idly, locked up in his luxurious prison, and dusk had fallen. The ceremony was due to start in court soon, and he had been prepared to wait for a good moment to sneak out and down to the tower.

To the tower, to find the book, and then . . .

Then to know who and what he really was. If Valerian was not his father, then who? Kepler must know; he’d looked in the book enough by now to know all about Boy, surely, assuming that that was what he was looking for. But Kepler did seem to have become obsessed by Boy, by possessing him as Valerian had. Boy couldn’t believe Kepler didn’t have all the answers.

And Valerian? Boy thought deeply about his former master, and despite all the hurt and pain he’d inflicted, Boy could find nothing in his heart now for Valerian, nothing but sorrow. Sorrow that he had died, that they had failed to make things better between them, but more than these regrets was a greater sorrow.

That Valerian wasn’t his father after all.

Maxim might not have wanted Boy to be present during the ceremony, but Frederick had had other ideas, and once again had ordered that his new plaything be brought to court.

A guard walked Boy down through the palace, to find Maxim himself waiting outside the door to the court. He dismissed the guard, and watched him go.

“You will say nothing unless I tell you to,” Maxim threatened. Boy acted suitably cowed. It wouldn’t hurt for Maxim to think he was too scared to act.

“The old fool wants you here, you’re his favorite new pet, and there’s nothing I can do about that. Not yet. So behave yourself.”

Boy nodded.

Maxim opened the door and they entered.

Yet again the palace outshone its own magnificence. The room had been decorated with flags and banners; strips of red and gold silk hung all around, encrusted with jewels that sparkled in the light from four massive chandeliers hanging from the painted ceiling. The room was packed. Far more so than usual. Boy looked around for Willow, but could not see her, or Kepler.

There was standing room only, and precious little of that. Boy marveled at the accumulation of wealth upon each person present. Even the lowliest members of the palace were dressed in fine clothes, maybe only brought out on occasions of the greatest importance. And there could be no occasion more important than this.

The Bestowing of Immortality on Emperor Frederick.

A fanfare rang out across the room, and the emperor was carried in on a large chair slung between two poles, festooned with more ribbons of red and gold, supported by four men. The people struggled to allow him by, and it took some time for the small cortege to make its way to the dais.

Once there, Frederick climbed up onto his throne as usual, and turned to face the assembly. He smiled, and Boy almost felt sorry for him, but was then horrified to see the emperor looking straight at him.

“Boy! There you are. Come here! You must be here.”

Boy hesitated, and looked at Maxim, who inclined his head slowly.

“Yes, you must be here,” Frederick drawled. “You are a good and faithful servant to the empire. If more of these idiots acted with your quick thinking maybe it wouldn’t have taken so long to get to where we are today. . . .”

Maxim and Boy stood at the foot of the dais. Frederick looked around once more, and coughed.

“People,” he said, in his wavering voice, “today is a great day. Thanks to my hard work and struggles, I will today achieve a wonderful thing. I am an old man; there is no . . . heir . . . to the throne. But this problem will be a problem no longer. I have created a superb solution. It will make everything well. You will not be deprived of your beloved emperor after my death, for I am not going to die. In a few moments I will have Maxim do . . . whatever it is he must do . . . and I will become immortal!”

There was a gasp and then a murmur around the court room. Even though everyone knew already that this was what the old emperor had been seeking, it was still a shock to actually hear him say it.

Frederick frowned at Maxim.

“Why don’t they cheer?” he asked.

“They’re just too happy to express what they really feel, sire,” Maxim said, and he nodded to a guard. Boy watched as the guard pulled his sword an inch or two from its scabbard and glared at some people near to him. They immediately started to clap, and as others began to applaud and cheer, the emperor sat back on his throne, satisfied.

Maxim chewed his lip, and ran one hand across the top of his bald head. He let the cheering continue for a full minute or two. It would be a good idea, he thought, to put the emperor in as good a mood as possible. Finally he raised his hand.

“Loyal servants of the Imperial Throne, lords, ladies, dukes, duchesses, marquises. Behold! For today is the first day of a new chapter in the history of the empire, and you are its witnesses.

“I have obtained knowledge that was occult, but is no longer hidden, for it has fallen into my hands, knowledge that will free our emperor from the constraints of mortality. Having made certain careful preparations, I am about to perform the ritual that will bestow everlasting life on Emperor Frederick the Magnificent!”

He paused, and after a moment, a subdued cheer came from the crowd.

“Of course,” Maxim continued, “this ritual is delicate and powerful in equal measure. It cannot be witnessed directly. We will begin at once.”

He nodded once more to two of the guards standing near the throne.

“The screen!” he cried.

A large screen made of a wooden frame over which red silk had been stretched was placed round the three forward sides of the dais, so that Frederick was hidden.

As he disappeared from sight, the emperor still wore a silly smile. He lifted a hand to his people, and then was gone. Boy stood by the dais, staring at Maxim, who clapped his hands. From the back of the hall, another servant brought forward a tray, on which were certain objects. Magical devices, no doubt, but nothing that Boy thought could bestow immortality. A wand, a cup, a potion and some herbs were all Boy could see as the things were taken up the steps of the dais and behind the screen. Suddenly, as Boy watched Maxim, he was reminded of something. He had a feeling that he had seen all this before. He’d described it to Valerian once, who had told him it had a French name, déjà vu. Already seen, Valerian had said. That was just what Boy felt as he watched Maxim, but this déjà vu had a mundane explanation. Boy had seen this countless times, onstage, with Valerian. A flowery speech, a few props, a screen. It was all exactly as Valerian had done it, pulling some illusion or other, and fooling a whole crowd into believing something impossible.

What was Maxim up to?

He stepped to the front of the dais once more, exactly like Valerian stepping to the front of the stage to make sure he had the audience’s attention before performing the trick.

“Behold!” he cried. “In a few moments, your emperor will be immortal!”

And he whipped behind the screen.

A murmur spread round the room, so that Boy could not hear anything that was going on behind the screen, but from where he stood, Boy could see vague shapes moving behind it. Maybe Maxim had intended it, maybe not, but the light from lamps on the wall behind the dais was casting the shadows of Maxim and Frederick onto the silk of the screen.

Others had noticed this too. Boy saw Maxim pick up the cup. He handed it to Frederick, who put it to his lips.

Boy’s heart jumped. That was it! Maxim was simply going to poison Frederick. Right there, in front of everyone, he was going to poison him, and then claim he had died in the arduous process of achieving immortality.

Boy moved, but a guard barred his way. Frederick drank from the cup. He waited for a scream of pain, or for Frederick to collapse to the floor. Nothing happened. The emperor gave the cup back to Maxim, who set it down.

Shapes moved, but Boy could see nothing of Frederick now. Maxim came and went around the throne, waving his hands in front of it, picking up other things from the tray, putting them down again. Finally, even Maxim’s movements ceased. There was nothing, nothing at all. The muttering in court grew louder and louder.

The guard holding Boy was now so fascinated by what was going on that he let go, and moved closer to the screen. He took another step. He was just about to put his head around the back of it when it flew forward and clattered down the steps. Maxim stood with arms raised.

“Behold!” he cried. “Emperor Frederick is now immortal!”

There was a stunned silence, and then the cheering and shouting and clapping began. The emperor sat on his throne, as he had before. He was alive, but there was something not quite right about him. He still had a foolish grin on his face, but his eyes seemed to be drifting all around the room, roaming unfocused from floor to ceiling.

Boy looked at the cup, now on its side and empty of whatever it had contained, and then looked at the emperor again. What had Maxim given him?

People began to press forward, watching as the emperor moved not a muscle. The astrologers and alchemists peered at him closely. Maxim stepped in front of one of them who was getting a little closer than the others.

“What’s wrong with him?” someone said.

“Nothing!” Maxim said. “Nothing. The process is an exhausting one. It will take a short while for the effects to wear off, and then . . . yes! See! Already His Highness is restored to himself! But no, it is more than that. For he is now immortal!”

The emperor stood. This perfectly normal action produced a gasp from the crowd, who all drew back.

“Is it done?” he said to Maxim. “Am I immortal now?”

There was something wrong with his voice, something Boy couldn’t place, as if he was talking in a dream.

“Oh yes!” Maxim said. “You are now immortal. And since that is the case, I trust Your Highness will no longer see the need for the presence of certain people in court . . . ?”

Boy looked around. He could see guards moving around the walls of the court, making for where he and the astrologers stood. Finally he saw Willow and Kepler, standing with the other advisors.

Frederick nodded.

“I am immortal,” he said, as much to himself as anyone else. He spoke more normally.

“Immortal,” Maxim repeated. “So there is no need for these useless diviners anymore?”

Boy understood now. He saw the whole thing, and understood what Maxim had meant when he said that it was
he
who had provided the solution. A very final one for some.

“No!” he cried, jumping forward. “No! It’s a trick!”

A guard grabbed him and threw him to the floor.

He wrestled free and ran to the dais, where he jumped onto the steps.

“It’s a trick! It’s a trick!”

Maxim made for him, as did two more guards, but Frederick stepped between them and Boy.

“Stay!” he cried. The guards hesitated, but Maxim did not.

He caught Boy and put out his hand to one of the guards.

“Quick! Give me your sword.”

“Do nothing!” Frederick shrieked at the guard, who remained where he was.

“And you, Maxim, will wait, too, until we hear what Boy has to say. He was faithful to us once, we will hear what he has to say. If it is false, he will die, but I shall be the judge! I am the immortal emperor, and I shall be heard!”

Maxim stopped.

“You cannot take the words of this boy above me! I have given you the greatest—”

“Silence!”
Frederick screamed so loudly that Maxim jumped. “Now, Boy, what do you have to say? And be very careful
what
you say.”

Boy got up from the floor and edged away from Maxim. He looked around the court, saw Willow and the fear on her face and felt himself grow stronger.

He pointed at Maxim.

“It’s a trick! He hasn’t made you immortal. He hasn’t done anything to you, except maybe drugged you for ten minutes! He’s bluffing.”

“What do you mean?”

Maxim took a step toward Boy, his face full of menace. Boy stepped back.

“I gave the idea to him.”

“What idea?”

“About being immortal. I said to him, how do you know you’re immortal until you die?”

There was total silence.

“I . . . what?” asked Frederick. “I . . .”

“It’s very simple,” Boy said. “How do you know you’re immortal now? Unless you die? Are you willing to try to find out? He’s trying to trick you, because there’s no other way to know.”

Now people understood, and the emperor too.

He turned to Maxim.

“Is this true?”

Maxim fought to stay calm. Boy knew he would give himself away if he lost his head now.

“Of course not! The brat lies! Have him taken away and slaughtered at once.”

He made a signal to a guard, but again Frederick stopped him.

“The next man who obeys anyone else’s orders will die. You all listen to me, not Maxim! Now, Maxim, why do you say the boy is lying?”

“Because he’s a lying urchin. You can’t—”

“He doesn’t even have the book!” Boy cried. “Ask him to show you the book!”

Maxim’s face was swollen with rage, but still he managed to speak calmly.

“There’s no need to have the book. It’s too powerful to bring down here—”

Frederick stopped him.

“Bring me the book, Maxim.”

Maxim was utterly motionless.

“Bring me the book, now, or you will die.”

“No!” Maxim screamed. “I don’t have the cursed book! And you aren’t immortal! How could you be? It’s impossible!”

Frederick recoiled as if he had been struck.

“Traitor!” he screamed.

“You stupid fool! Did you really think I could make you immortal?”

Maxim laughed bitterly, flung his hand out at the crowd.

“Look at them! They’ve all been waiting for you to die for years! And why? Because you don’t have an heir! So you wanted to be immortal instead. Well, you’re a bigger fool than I ever thought! And a liar, too. You do have an heir, don’t you, Frederick? Why don’t you tell everyone all about it?”

“Guards!” Frederick yelled. “Arrest him!”

Maxim laughed, and backed away around the side of the throne. Then he darted behind the massive chair. He flicked something in the wall and a secret door opened. He disappeared and the door shut behind him.