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

holding a glass of water. If anything, his skin looks more horrible than ever, with weeping sores on his arms, as well as the one above his eye.
    I can’t believe April is allowing him to be this close to her. She has changed.
    “How are you?” I ask, reaching for her hand. She pulls it away.
    “I need a drink. And a hot bath. And then another drink.” Thom holds the glass of water out to her. She makes a rude gesture. “Not that, a real drink.” But then she smiles at Thom, a silent apology for being so abrupt. “Sorry,” she says. “Wet hair is irritating, against the sores.” She gestures to her neck but doesn’t pull up the hair. She would rather be in pain than show what the contagion is doing to her.
    She looks to Thom, as if waiting for his sympathy, and I feel a pang, knowing that this boy is the only one who understands what is happening to her.
    “You can’t possibly agree with Elliott,” I say quietly. “You can’t think that we should go to the prince’s palace.”
    When she looks up at me, I see panic. “Everyone in the city is dying,” she says. “No one can survive the Red Death. But some people can live with the contagion.”
    I don’t argue with her. A girl died of the Red Death right in front of me. I don’t doubt that conditions in the city are dire.
    But April’s sores are spreading, and there’s no guarantee that she’ll be like Thom. She’s saved my life more than once. When I was suicidal over my brother’s death, she did her best to distract me. She chose me to be her best friend, to take with her to the club. And now it is my fault that she is dying. When her father had us imprisoned in the tunnels, he said he could cure her of the disease. But she escaped with me instead, because he was going to kill me.
    I was powerless to stop my brother from dying. But I’m not powerless anymore. I will save April, even if I have to fight her to do it.
    We watch the storm through dirty windows. I eat, to keep up my strength, and tell stories to the children. Thom disappears down a spiral stairway, with a bowl of soup for Will and something for the prisoner. “The man that Elliott captured scares me,” April confesses. “He reminds me of dark places under the city, and my father.”
    When we escaped the mob, the man followed Will and the children, clutching his musket and scaling the rope ladder. I’m afraid of him, too.
    Henry and Elise, exhausted from chasing each other around the open spaces of the attic, curl up and fall asleep. April dozes in her chair, before the fireplace.
    This is my chance. I’ll slip away to read what I can of Father’s journal before Elliott comes down. If I can find something certain about a cure, it might be enough to convince them to listen to me. I consider the spiral staircase, but that way leads to Will and Thom and the prisoner. At the far end of the attic, past the opening where we climbed down from the roof, is a hole in the floor, probably caused by water seeping down and rotting the wood.
    I walk over and peer down. Below, I can see a wood floor covered with a rug. The distance is probably seven feet, eight? I sit at the edge with my legs dangling. If I can push myself away from the broken beams so I don’t scrape my shoulder, I should be fine. As long as I don’t twist my ankle.
    I take a deep breath and drop, bracing for the pain of impact. But there is no impact.
    Strong arms catch me, sliding around my waist.
    Will. I would know him anywhere, even in this darkness. He still smells of the Debauchery Club, a hint of incense. The length of my body rests against his.
    I can feel his heart beating. Rapidly. Unless it’s mine.
    He doesn’t move. Maybe he’s going to hold me here, against his heart, forever. Every nerve ending has come to life, making me painfully, horribly aware . His breath stirs my hair and his arm trembles from holding me up, but otherwise we are completely still.
    “Thank you,” I breathe.
    “You’re welcome.” His