Showdown Read Online Free PDF Page B

virtue and love and all that threatened both. The teachers said they had developed the intellects of adults.
    â€œYes, but such a story can amplify peace, can’t it?” Raul said. “It can make one’s understanding of peace as vivid as the conflict. That is the point, isn’t it?”
    â€œMakes sense to me,” Dan, a short Hungarian boy, said.
    Billy smiled. He wasn’t surprised that Raul’s argument made sense to many of the students, whose questions had grown increasingly bold this year thanks to the teachings of Marsuvees Black. It was difficult to tell exactly where Raul stood on the issue, however, because the overseers often taught with questions. He was either secretly laughing or sweating bullets, depending on who he really was under that Socratic mask of his.
    â€œWould you need to place your hand in a fire to understand a cool breeze?” Samuel asked.
    â€œNo, but you might appreciate a cool breeze much more after standing in the fire for a day. What is a cool breeze unless there is also heat?”
    â€œAnd why not avoid the heat altogether? Move to a milder climate, say. Or stay out of the sun. There’s no use in exposing yourself to a lot of hot air when you already have the cool truth.”
    Raul smiled as laughter erupted around the room. He dipped his head in respect. “Yes, of course, Samuel. Well said. Well said, indeed. And I think on that note we will end our session.”
    The students began to rise and chatter about the discussion.
    Billy snatched up his writing book.
    â€œBilly.”
Raul motioned for him to wait.
    As the last student filed out, Raul donned a long brown cloak with a hood. He lifted the hood to cover his head.
    â€œHaving interests outside of class gives you no excuse for being late.”
    He knew? No, not necessarily. The interests Raul spoke of could be an innocent reference to almost anything. Unless Raul was the masked man from the dungeons. Billy couldn’t tell by the voice alone—not distorted as it was by the mask down below.
    â€œI’m sorry, sir.”
    The teacher acknowledged the apology with a nod. But his eyes pierced Billy’s conscience.
    Billy slipped from the room, shivering. Raul’s look had seemed too knowing, as if he meant to say, “I know you’ve been below, boy. I know that you’re going there now. The dungeons will kill you.”
    Maybe I want to die, Raul . Maybe I just want to die.
    THE ROUTE to the dungeons took Billy back past the library into a dark hall lit only by the flaming torch that he carried. He’d been down the hall a hundred times, but he’d entered the staircase only once, not twelve hours ago.
    The memory was fresh enough to send a chill through his bones as he approached the forbidden door. He couldn’t possibly resist it—not after his first exploration last night. The dungeon was dark and it was evil, but it was also wonderful, something he’d never dreamed of before, much less experienced.
    His cryptic and overcautious journey from the classroom to this remote place had taken him at least thirty minutes. No one had seen him, he was sure of it.
    Billy looked up and down the hall one last time, twisted the door’s corroded handle, and pulled. The hinges squealed in protest. He slipped in, eased the heavy door shut, and stood breathless on the stone landing.
    Before him, a winding stone stairway descended into shadows that moved in the torchlight. Billy walked to the edge of the landing, paused to still his heart, and stepped down. One step at a time.
    A single question echoed through his skull. Was the monk here?
    Billy assumed the masked man was a monk, having narrowed his identity down to three possibilities. If he was right, this person who’d lured him here earlier was either Raul, the head overseer whose class he left not half an hour ago, or the director himself, David Abraham.
    Both were the right height. Both had low