Read Online The Crimson Shard by Teresa Flavin - Free Book Online Page A

about outdoors?”
    One or two heads shook.
    “We still have much to learn,” Toby insisted. “Mr. Starling has taught me everything, but there is always more to do here.”
    “Copying artwork that Mr. Fleet and Mr. Sleek bring in.” She pointed at the newly arrived painting of the musketeer. “Do you know where they got that from?”
    More silence.
    “How do they get these paintings?” asked Sunni. “Fleet and Sleek seem to be able to supply them with no problem.”
    The boys hung their heads and Blaise said, “Like the Flemish angel painting. It’s
famous.
”
    Will, who had never spoken up before, raised his head. “I am copying the angel. But Mr. Fleet and Mr. Sleek will take it back where it come from, like all the others. They says so. We just borrows ’em to copy for our learnin’.”
    “Borrow them from where? You don’t just ‘borrow’ well-known artwork,” said Sunni.
    Will shrugged, shrinking away from her furious questions.
    “It’s okay, Will. You’re not to blame,” said Blaise. “We’re just trying to figure out what’s going on here.”
    “Do not ask questions,” said Toby.
    But Sunni ignored him and picked up the copy one of the younger boys was making. “Are you allowed to keep the copies you make? Do they belong to you?”
    “Nay, we do not keep them,” said Will earnestly.
    “Will!” Toby hissed.
    “Let him talk,” said Blaise. “What happens to your copies when you’re done?”
    “There’s nothing wrong in saying it, Toby,” said Will. “Mr. Throgmorton takes the copies. He takes ’em away.” His eyes darted momentarily toward the painted door.
    Toby grabbed his arm. “Are you mad? Say nothing more, Will!”
    “He doesn’t need to.” Sunni tapped the wall. “You all slave away making drawings and Mr. Throgmorton takes them away through this door, doesn’t he?”
    There was rustling behind them, and everyone turned, startled.
    Livia stepped from the shadowy hallway, regal in a deep rose–colored gown. “Jack Sunniver, what are you doing here?”
    Sunni’s lip twisted. “Nothing.”
    “Come away from that wall. Your bed is below, and you are nowhere near it.”
    “I was just going.”
    “That is a lie. I spied you running up the stairs.”
    “I couldn’t sleep.” Sunni stormed past her and ran down the stairs.
    “What were you telling Jack Sunniver, William?” asked Livia, her expression mild.
    “Nothing, Miss Livia.” Will’s eyes were huge in his thin face.
    Livia’s short laugh was like a windowpane shattering. “Never lie, William. Dishonesty always hurts someone in the end.”

T he stale-smelling bed was too short for his lanky frame, and the mattress sagged in the middle, but Blaise fell asleep almost immediately. For a brief, anguished moment, he wondered again about the boy whose bed this had been and if he and Sunni would ever escape, but, with the urge to sleep so great, his questions just drifted away.
    The painted door kept appearing in his dreams, opening and closing for everyone else, but never for him. Just as he thought it was about to allow him through, he felt a hand shake his shoulder.
    “Blaise, it’s midnight,” whispered Jacob, his fair hair shining in the lantern light. “We rise now.”
    Blaise rolled over and looked around the dark room. It smelled of sleep and unwashed bodies. No light came in from the small windows. The night sky was solid black, with no electric street lights to tinge it amber.
    The other boys were already up and filing out of the bedroom. He could hear them beginning work in the Academy on the other side of the wall.
    Jacob lingered by Blaise’s cot. “You are truly allowed to sleep all night where you are from?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Does everyone sleep so much?”
    “No,” said Blaise, thinking of his dad, who got up early to go running every morning, and feeling another twist of sickness in his stomach. He’d hardly thought of his dad with everything that had happened. By now, he would