Masque of the Red Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

face is covered.
    “No,” Will says. “Keep the mask on. I’d hate to have saved you, just for you to die from unfiltered air.”
    I glance at the children, their bare faces. The air in the lower city is said to be thick with disease.
    Will cracks an egg into a small pan and holds it over the burner.
    “So you live here and raise two children?”
    “Yes.”
    “Is it difficult?”
    He laughs. “Yes, it is.”
    “How did it happen?”
    “The usual way. My family survived the plague, so things seemed okay. I was hanging around down in the district when things really started there. I found myself drawn to girls with unusually colored hair who went to clubs wearing black corsets. Girls who stared into their drinks with vacant eyes, mourning the world that they had lost.”
    “That’s sort of poetic,” I say.
    “It was foolish.” He smiles. “But I got a job, started saving money. Then my father died and my mother got sick. I had to pay for the apartment, had to find money for medicine and food. I caught the attention of the prince. He owns the Debauchery Club.”
    The prince owns almost everything.
    Will pushes his hair back from his face.
    “Sometimes we had enough for food. Sometimes we didn’t. I seem to be well suited to working at the Debauchery Club. A neighbor watches the kids at night while I’m working. She doesn’t charge much to have them sleep in her spare bed. I have to be home before sunrise, because she works as a cook for some rich family.”
    Some rich family. Like mine. For all I know, his neighbor could be our cook.
    “I used to leave them, when I was fifteen or sixteen, because I couldn’t think what else to do. But I’m more careful now.”
    Leaving children is dangerous. If the authorities find a child alone, they are required to take that child, and he or she is never given back.
    Will hands me a slice of toasted bread. I don’t want to eat their food, they have so little of it, but it seems impolite not to accept. So I adjust my mask to the side, the way we do when we are in a place where there might be germs, and nibble at my bread.
    Henry is holding a tiny brass toy lovingly.
    “Is it a toy steam carriage?” I ask.
    “Yes. I have an airship, too,” he says proudly.
    “I have a friend who makes clever toys for him,” Will says.
    “You can wind it, and it really works!”
    As charming as they are, the children make me nervous with their searching eyes and their rapid movements.
    “Do they go to school?”
    Will puts a plate with some eggs in front of me.
    “I’m hoping they can go next year.”
    We eat slowly. I tear my bread into three pieces and give most of it to the children. The eggs make me feel much better, more alive. The sun is sneaking in around the window coverings, and Will looks completely exhausted. I want to touch his tousled hair, push it back from his face. He sees me watching him, and his lips do that little half smile. I almost expect him to use an inappropriate endearment like he does at the club.
    “Is Araby your girlfriend?” Elise asks.
    Will chokes and then says, “No.” So quickly that it feels like a slap in the face.
    When the little ones aren’t looking, he raises one eyebrow at me. He knows that he’s insulted me. For just a moment, he’s the Debauchery District guy, and not this surprising domestic creature.
    When he described the girls who attracted him, he might as well have held a mirror to me. But I don’t know if he still likes … the sort of girl that he thinks I am. He said it like it was something silly, some childhood fancy that passed. His lips twist again, and I realize that he’s amused.
    “Here’s your bag.” He puts the purse on the table and stifles a yawn. The shadows under his eyes only make him more impossibly handsome.
    “You look tired.”
    “I usually sleep later than this. You’ve disrupted our little household. Luckily I have all afternoon to rest.”
    All afternoon?
    “But how will I get home?” The