The Dark Flight Down by Marcus Sedgwick Page A

said. “I was amazed. I thought Maxim had to be the one in charge. Frederick doesn’t look like he could be in charge of anything.”
    Bedrich shook his head.
    “That’s what you think? Then you are mistaken. He’s a hard and powerful man, despite his age, despite his weaknesses.”
    “Some people don’t even believe he’s still alive. No one’s seen him in years, in the City.”
    “They wouldn’t have, he never goes outside the palace. I used to tell him he should go out. Take the air, exercise. It might have stopped him brooding over his health all the time. He was obsessed by his health. His heart, his nerves, his stomach. It was hard being his doctor, especially when he set so much store in those alchemists and necromancers of his. . . .”
    Boy felt Bedrich was drifting away again.
    “The book,” he said. “What about the book?”
    “Yes. The book. Well, in a way it’s all part of the same thing. Frederick was old even then. He must be ancient by now. Even in those days he was possessed by one concern: the imperial line.”
    “What?” asked Boy.
    “The line. He is the last of the imperial line. There is no one to succeed him when he dies. Desperate for children, but with no heir to the throne, he began to worry that he would die and leave the empire without an emperor. Empire! What nonsense! This pox-ridden city is all that’s left of it. But nonetheless, all those dukes and lords were upstairs waiting to fight it out when he goes! You see?”
    “Yes”—Boy nodded—“yes, but what about the book?”
    “I’m getting to it,” said Bedrich. “It’s all part of the same thing. He was obsessed about having an heir. And everyone in court was trying to placate him, and please him, all the while hoping for favors in return, money, a title, things like that. One day, a musician arrived in court, from the countryside. A handsome man, and of reasonable breeding. He came with a song, and a present. First he sang the song, and the emperor was even gracious enough to seem to enjoy it. He must have been in a rare good mood that day.”
    Bedrich had closed his eyes, as if seeing the events all over again.
    “And the song was a beautiful song. Beautiful but sad. He came from a musical family. Many members of his family were gifted musically, but although they were noble, they were not wealthy. But there was something else. The present. I do not know where he came upon it, but the musician had brought with him a terrible thing, though at the time it was held to be marvelous and wonderful. The book.
    “And this was his present to the emperor. He was rewarded immediately with his weight in gold. And there was more to follow. As the book foretold things and they came to pass, the man and his family were rewarded with land, titles, money and more.
    “And more than this, the emperor even took a daughter of the family as his mistress. Sophia. This was deemed a great honor to the family. She was so beautiful, and clever, too. It was she who wrote that sad song.
    “And on the day . . . the day when . . .”
    Bedrich stopped. He seemed to have lost his way in the story.
    “Go on,” Boy said, gently.
    “It’s so long ago,” said Bedrich, but Boy could tell that this was not the reason he had stopped. “On that day. The book foretold that the emperor was indeed to father children! On that day, the man and his family were showered beyond all measure with things rich and golden. They were granted permission to build a church in their village, and the members of the family moved within court as if they were themselves royalty.”
    With a shock Boy realized that he was listening to something of which he knew a part.
    “Tell me,” he said, “what was the name of this family?”
    When Bedrich opened his mouth to answer, Boy already had the same word on his lips.
    “Beebe.”
    Boy felt his heart begin to race light and fast in his chest. He felt sick.
    “Beebe,” said Bedrich again. “For a while, what a great