Dance of the Red Death (Masque of the Red Death) Read Online Free PDF Page A

voice. She’s gotten quieter since she’s been sick. She’s biting her lip. The old April never looked so solemn. She leads us off the ship. Elliott takes my hand, but he doesn’t pull me along. Only a slight gap lies between the wooden steps of the airship and the roof of the house, but he helps me down.
    Henry and Elise are sitting in the shadow of one of the chimneys.
    “Will won’t let us play anywhere interesting,” Henry complains as we approach. “There’s nothing to see from here, even with binoculars.”
    With the crocodiles slithering through the murk, and who knows what else might be lurking out there, Will was right to make them promise to stay near the ship. I want to grab Henry and hold him close to keep him safe.
    “Araby!” Elise spies me behind Elliott and leaps up. She throws her arms around me, but Elliott keeps hold of my hand. Elise’s eyebrows draw together, and I know that she is frowning behind her mask.
    The wind picks up, so even if I knew what to say to her, the words would be whipped away.
    “Why must we always wait until the storm is actually upon us?” April asks no one in particular. This is the old April. “We need to hurry. My hair simply cannot survive much more.”
    I smile, but she’s right. The rain is coming—I can see it out over the swamp, moving toward us. These tiles will be slick and treacherous when it hits. I put my arm around Elise, then drop Elliott’s hand to take Henry’s.
    “Show me how to get into the house?” I ask Elise, and she nods, pleased to help.
    The breach in the roof isn’t far, but it gives me pause. It’s as if monstrous jaws have bitten a chunk from the top of the house. The uneven hole left is wide enough for a person to climb through.
    “There was already a hole in the roof,” April explains. “Kent just used a crowbar to make it bigger, so that we can climb inside.” The rain pounds the roof behind us, gusting through the swamp. All of a sudden, everything is moving.
    “Go ahead.” I urge the children toward the wooden ladder that peeks up out of the hole. By the time April has climbed down, the storm is crashing against the house and the line of trees is doubled over.
    Elliott’s hair is plastered to his face, and his shirt clings to him.
    “I should stay with Kent,” he says. He grimaces, but I can’t tell if it’s from the rain or the idea of me downstairs with Will.
    I nod. He can’t leave Kent to face the storm alone.
    Ignoring the driving rain, I grab his arm. It doesn’t matter that I don’t trust him, or that I don’t agree with his plans. He can be the hero that the city needs. I’m not willing to embrace him, but I hold his arm tightly for just a few seconds longer than I should. As I’m turning away, he spins me back and kisses me fiercely. And then he’s fighting the wind, back across the roof.
    Not until I’m halfway down the ladder do I pause to catch my breath and push the wet hair back from my face. I lean my forehead against one of the rungs while my heart slows.
    Below, the house groans, settling perhaps into its final repose. Into the swamp. I continue to climb down. The wood floor looks slick with blood, but it’s just soaked with rainwater from the storm. Still, the boards seem to sag under my feet, so I move quickly to the other side of the room, where the roof above is intact.
    A fire crackles in the hearth, and the glow, combined with the oil lamp, contrasts cozily with the rain that pounds through the hole and against the roof and windows.
    This place reminds me of the homes of Mother’s rich relations, who we used to visit when I was a child. The attic would’ve been a nursery, and bits of broken toys, a small desk where a child might have sat to learn to read, have been left neglected here.
    Elise and Henry are nestled on a couch, and Elise makes room for me to join them. But April coughs, and I turn to her instead. She’s fallen into an armchair. The diseased boy, Thom, stands behind her,