the light. ‘This is not real gold—’
‘Yes, sir, I assure you,’ a voice interjected.
The man bit the medallion. Half his own teeth were gold. ‘Ten crowns,’ he said. ‘It’s gold plating, for God’s sake.And throw in those four rings for me as recompense for being so dishonest.’
An argument broke out. But he must have succeeded in his bargain, because the next moment he was shoving the jewellery into his jacket pocket and turning to leave. He picked up the suitcase and strode off down a side street.
‘Who was that man?’ said Michael. ‘Have you seen him before?’
‘No, I never have.’
We watched him until he was out of sight. ‘I wonder what he meant by “gold plating”,’ I said.
‘It’s something they have invented in Alcyria,’ said Michael. ‘They pass a lightning current through water, and the gold sticks to the surface of the metal and covers it. Then you can pretend it’s real gold, and people who don’t know will buy it. Mr Pascal told me.’
‘Does that work?’
‘Oh, you know Mr Pascal’s stories.’
‘And where do they get the lightning from? Do they draw it down out of the sky?’
Michael laughed. ‘Probably.’
But his laugh faded quickly as we turned away from the markets and wandered on listlessly. ‘I don’t want to go home until late,’ Michael said. ‘I will only argue with my father again.’ We stopped at the Five Stars Inn, halfway to the Royal Gardens, and Michael ordered spirits. His drinking troubled me sometimes. He did it so blindly, as though he was already desperate. When we left to go on, we could see the guards changing posts on the castle road and troops moving slowly down. ‘Going to the borders,’ said Michael.
My heart hurt, and I tried to say something, but I couldn’t. We walked along an alley where the homelesssat huddled around an old brazier. The wind was rising.
‘Spare any change?’ someone called, but I had nothing to give him.
‘Let’s go to the old house,’ said Michael.
We crossed the Royal Gardens, still divided by our silence. As we approached the fence, he caught my arm. ‘There!’ he said. ‘I told you there was a light. The other day, when we were here before.’We stepped closer to the fence. The light was flickering behind a ragged curtain on the first floor. ‘Come on,’ said Michael. ‘I want to see who it is. I can’t leave without knowing.’ He crawled along the fence to the gap in the barbed wire and began edging his way under it. I could hear shouts beginning close to the castle, but I did not want to go back yet. I followed him. We crossed the grounds at a run and stopped under the lighted window. ‘I can get up into one of these trees,’ he said.
‘You’ll break your neck,’ I said.
‘I won’t,’ he said.
He stopped ahead of me, staring up into a pine tree that stood close against the front wall. Its branches scratched the glass when the wind moved it. The lighted window was one of the only ones that had not had the panes shot out of it in the Liberation or been smashed by children’s stones. Michael began to climb, leaning precariously as he swung round the trunk from branch to branch. I waited, then grew sick of the dark and the silence and climbed up after him. It was not hard to do. I kept my eyes fixed on Michael above me and did not think about falling. He reached down and pulled me up onto a branch that was stronger than the rest. We sat there in the tree, with the wind howling around us, and looked at the lighted window. ‘Come on,’ Michael saidthen. ‘I’m going across to the windowsill. And, Anselm, if I die, say a prayer for my soul.’
‘Don’t,’ I said, but he ignored me and edged out along the branch. ‘Michael, come back,’ I said. He turned and grinned at me. His eyes were steady, as though he didn’t know what danger was. The branch creaked and sighed. ‘Come back now,’ I said, and reached out my hand to him. ‘Michael, I’m not joking!’
The
‘Yes, sir, I assure you,’ a voice interjected.
The man bit the medallion. Half his own teeth were gold. ‘Ten crowns,’ he said. ‘It’s gold plating, for God’s sake.And throw in those four rings for me as recompense for being so dishonest.’
An argument broke out. But he must have succeeded in his bargain, because the next moment he was shoving the jewellery into his jacket pocket and turning to leave. He picked up the suitcase and strode off down a side street.
‘Who was that man?’ said Michael. ‘Have you seen him before?’
‘No, I never have.’
We watched him until he was out of sight. ‘I wonder what he meant by “gold plating”,’ I said.
‘It’s something they have invented in Alcyria,’ said Michael. ‘They pass a lightning current through water, and the gold sticks to the surface of the metal and covers it. Then you can pretend it’s real gold, and people who don’t know will buy it. Mr Pascal told me.’
‘Does that work?’
‘Oh, you know Mr Pascal’s stories.’
‘And where do they get the lightning from? Do they draw it down out of the sky?’
Michael laughed. ‘Probably.’
But his laugh faded quickly as we turned away from the markets and wandered on listlessly. ‘I don’t want to go home until late,’ Michael said. ‘I will only argue with my father again.’ We stopped at the Five Stars Inn, halfway to the Royal Gardens, and Michael ordered spirits. His drinking troubled me sometimes. He did it so blindly, as though he was already desperate. When we left to go on, we could see the guards changing posts on the castle road and troops moving slowly down. ‘Going to the borders,’ said Michael.
My heart hurt, and I tried to say something, but I couldn’t. We walked along an alley where the homelesssat huddled around an old brazier. The wind was rising.
‘Spare any change?’ someone called, but I had nothing to give him.
‘Let’s go to the old house,’ said Michael.
We crossed the Royal Gardens, still divided by our silence. As we approached the fence, he caught my arm. ‘There!’ he said. ‘I told you there was a light. The other day, when we were here before.’We stepped closer to the fence. The light was flickering behind a ragged curtain on the first floor. ‘Come on,’ said Michael. ‘I want to see who it is. I can’t leave without knowing.’ He crawled along the fence to the gap in the barbed wire and began edging his way under it. I could hear shouts beginning close to the castle, but I did not want to go back yet. I followed him. We crossed the grounds at a run and stopped under the lighted window. ‘I can get up into one of these trees,’ he said.
‘You’ll break your neck,’ I said.
‘I won’t,’ he said.
He stopped ahead of me, staring up into a pine tree that stood close against the front wall. Its branches scratched the glass when the wind moved it. The lighted window was one of the only ones that had not had the panes shot out of it in the Liberation or been smashed by children’s stones. Michael began to climb, leaning precariously as he swung round the trunk from branch to branch. I waited, then grew sick of the dark and the silence and climbed up after him. It was not hard to do. I kept my eyes fixed on Michael above me and did not think about falling. He reached down and pulled me up onto a branch that was stronger than the rest. We sat there in the tree, with the wind howling around us, and looked at the lighted window. ‘Come on,’ Michael saidthen. ‘I’m going across to the windowsill. And, Anselm, if I die, say a prayer for my soul.’
‘Don’t,’ I said, but he ignored me and edged out along the branch. ‘Michael, come back,’ I said. He turned and grinned at me. His eyes were steady, as though he didn’t know what danger was. The branch creaked and sighed. ‘Come back now,’ I said, and reached out my hand to him. ‘Michael, I’m not joking!’
The
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