The Book of Dead Days by Marcus Sedgwick Page A

might have noticed that he was actually enjoying himself. This was like home to him. It was familiar ground-running, climbing, hiding in the dark, with a mission to perform for Valerian. It was almost like normal.
    He skipped down the alley as lightly as a rat, realizing as he went that the alley was some kind of rubbish heap for all the buildings that ran behind it. Walls rose up high on either side of him, but just as he expected, there were little gates into the back courtyards of each building.
    He guessed where the gate for the Burials building would be.
    There beyond lay the Dome, and for the first time he could see the stone building that it rose from. In a way he was disappointed that the shining glass roof rested on anything at all-it was so magical it ought to have floated in the air.
    He looked to the gate. No way to climb over this one- it was set into the solid stone wall-but he had his bent metal pin out of his pocket and into the lock in a moment.
    The gate swung and then he ran, quickly but cautiously, to the base of the Dome.
    Some rather elaborate block work made climbing the building as easy as walking up stairs, and soon he was crouching against the glowing glass of the Dome itself.
    He looked down at what lay within, and his jaw dropped. He had listened intently to what the old woman in the pillar had said about the Master of Burials and his animals, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw now.

13
    Darkness was settling over the winter cityscape as Valerian and Willow got to Kepler’s house. On the way Valerian chatted almost casually to Willow, mostly about Kepler, about how he had been born of noble family but had turned his back on his aristocratic lineage for the pursuit of knowledge. Valerian looked up at the darkening sky. “The end of the twenty-eighth,” said Valerian mournfully. “Three days…”
    Valerian rang the bell. Kepler’s house was narrow and tall, by no means as large as Valerian’s, but in a far better state of repair. This was a much cozier neighborhood, of terraced houses for the well-to-do if not the rich.
    “No light within,” said Valerian, frowning.
    “Shall I knock?” asked Willow, but Valerian put out his good hand to stop her.
    “He must be out,” said Valerian, but there was no certainty in his voice. “But… he goes out no more than I do. Try the bell again.”
    Willow stepped forward. “Valerian!” she whispered. “The door is open!”
    “Careful, child,” said Valerian. He shoved the door further open with his boot, and they listened hard for a minute. The street behind them was empty and quiet. They took two steps into the hall and then pushed the door shut behind them.
    “Kepler?” called Valerian in a stage whisper. “Kepler? Are you there?”
    There seemed to be no one in the house.
    “I think we can risk a little light.”
    Willow started to hunt in her pockets for a match but was puzzled to see Valerian step over to the wall to turn a small metal knob set into the wall itself.
    Immediately a dim, flickering light sprang up in a chandelier above their heads.
    Willow let out a small shriek.
    “Valerian! Your magic
is
real!” she cried.
    “No, Willow, no,” said Valerian. “This is not my magic, but Kepler’s genius. He has greater knowledge than anyone in the world of electrical phenomena. He has installed an automatic system of electrical light in his home. He says one day all houses in the City will have the same. He’s mad, of course, but you have to admire his invention. My simple chemical lights at the theater are child’s toys compared to this.”
    Valerian walked into a room leading off the back of the hall and turned another knob, throwing light across what was clearly Kepler’s study.
    Willow followed, openmouthed.
    “There’s a large array of electrical cells in the cellar,” explained Valerian, but this was lost on Willow. She marveled at the lights on the walls.
    “There’s no flame!” she said with