Read Online The Book of Dead Days by Marcus Sedgwick - Free Book Online Page B

not now. No time now. First we must find it.”
    “But what?” asked Boy.
    “The grave. The grave of Gad Beebe. Isn’t that obvious?”
    No, it isn’t,
Boy thought, but he nodded. He smiled.
    “That was what the music box told us?” asked Willow. “To come here?”
    “Yes,” said Valerian. “Well, no, not exactly. I was looking for a grave, and now I have a name. We are looking for the grave of Gad Beebe, and this is the biggest cemetery in the City. We have to start somewhere!”
    “And what then? When we find it? Why is it so important?”
    “Later. We’re running out of time. We’ll find the grave first and then-Damn!”
    “What?” asked Boy.
    “A spade. I forgot to bring a spade.”
    Valerian stamped his foot and swore at the sky.
    “Why do we need a spade?” asked Willow, but she and Boy had a terrible feeling they knew why.
    “To dig up his grave, of course. Never mind, there must be a sexton’s hut here somewhere. The first thing is to find it. Now, let’s get these candles alight…”
    A succession of thoughts swept through Boy’s mind, all of them ghastly. The news that was rife in the City about the Phantom and grave-robbers sprang to his mind. He looked at Valerian. Was it possible that he was the one who had been breaking into people’s graves? Could Valerian be capable of such a thing?
    Of course he could.
    “No,” Boy said, “I won’t do it!”
    Willow looked at Boy, surprised. Valerian too.
    “What now?” he asked. “Can’t you see we must get on?”
    “You can get on without me,” said Boy. “I won’t do it. I’ve done a lot of terrible things for you, but I won’t do this.”
    “Do what?” asked Valerian, the beginnings of a smile on his face.
    “I won’t steal people’s bodies. People’s… dead bodies.”
    Valerian gave a short bark of a laugh. Then he shot a glance around him, and was silent.
    “But, Boy”-he smiled-“we’re not looking for a body! We’re looking for a book.”

4
    “Right. To save time, we’ll split up. Here, take a candle, each of you. Now, Boy, you go along this wall and work inward, row by row. Work systematically and do not miss one out. Not one. You, Girl-”
    “My name’s Willow,” she said, then remembered that terrible look he had given her, “sir.”
    But Valerian was too busy thinking to care.
    “Willow, go along the other wall. Do the same as Boy. Do not miss one out. I will go up this central avenue and work outward. It’s nearly the third hour after midnight. Meet back here in an hour. And remember-Gad Beebe. Inside his grave we will find the book, and then…”
    His voice tailed off. He pulled a third candle from his pocket, and as much to amuse himself as to impress Boy and Willow, he pulled it out already alight.
    “Can you teach me to do that?” asked Willow, but Valerian did not bother to reply.
    Valerian went up the stony path that led into the dark heart of the cemetery, his small candle flickering in his hand, casting weak but unnerving shadows on the stones around him.
    Boy and Willow looked at each other, then looked down the separate routes they were supposed to take, leading off into the pitch-black night.
    “Book?” asked Willow. “What’s so important about a book?”
    Boy shrugged. “He’s always going on about books, how important they are and why I have to learn to read better.”
    “Maybe, but that’s not enough of a reason to dig them up from graves, is it?”
    “I don’t know,” he said, “but then I never do. I just do what Valerian tells me. Life’s easier that way.”
    Willow looked at him sadly; then she glanced down the rows of elaborate, ornamented graves, and shivered.
    “Supposing,” said Boy, “we do half an hour my way and then half an hour your way? That would be about the same thing, wouldn’t it?”
    No,
thought Willow,
it wouldn’t.
    “Near enough,” she said, trying to sound bright. “Anyway, if one of us holds the candles and the other does the reading,