The Butterfly in Amber Read Online Free PDF Page A

over his eyes. Luka and Emilia exchanged a rueful glance, and looked at the preacher who smiled at them.
    â€˜I would do you no harm,’ he said. ‘Is not the little girl a saint as well?’
    Luka snorted, but managed not to reply, while Emilia did her best to look saintly, folding her hands and casting her eyes up to heaven.
    It took some time for Luka to open the padlock, for he was still not adept at manipulating the lock pick and the only light came from his lantern. The old man asked them their names, and told them that he was called Henry Burgess, but that most people called him Hallelujah.
    â€˜Thank you, dear children,’ he said, crawling out of the cage. ‘When the King of Kings returns to rule over His earthly dominions, you too shallbe accepted into the company of His saints. Hallelujah!’
    â€˜I hope so,’ Emilia said politely. She and Luka helped the old man as, tottering, he led them into a dark maze of alleys and laneways, courtyards and cobbled squares.
    â€˜Tell me, Mr Hallelujah, sir,’ Emilia said, ‘have you ever noticed this old fortune-teller wearing a . . . a stone, or a jewel? A little charm?’ For even though Emilia had lost her charm bracelet, she still hoped to find the butterfly in amber that belonged to the Graylings tribe. One charm would be better than none, she reasoned.
    Hallelujah nodded. ‘Aye, indeed. A lovely little jewel, yellow as sunshine, except it had something in it, some kind of dead bug.’
    â€˜Not a butterfly?’ Emilia was so excited she let go of his arm to clap her hands together. Hallelujah almost fell over, and she hastily put her hand under his skinny old arm again.
    â€˜Aye, that’s it. Strange thing to have inside a stone. I wonder how it got in there. Indeed, God’s work is mysterious.’
    â€˜Does she still have it, do you know?’ Emilia asked.
    Hallelujah shook his wild, grey head. ‘I have not seen it for a long time. I daresay she pawned it years ago. Or perhaps she gave it to her daughter. I remember seeing her weeping one day, in great distress, for her daughter had run away.’
    â€˜We heard her daughter had married a lawyer,’ Luka said hopefully.
    â€˜I hadn’t heard that,’ Hallelujah replied. ‘But I don’t know her well. She thinks I’m a crazy loon.’
    They did not talk much after that. Emilia and Luka were so tired it seemed as if they wandered in a nightmare. The air smelt of cinders and cesspits. Slimy things squelched under Emilia’s bare feet. In the thin ray of light from the lantern, she saw the damp, crooked walls of ramshacklehouses, a rat dragging a dismembered hen, a runnel of green slime, the hand of a man lying dead drunk (or so she hoped), piles of old gnawed bones and filthy rags and scuttling cockroaches.
    â€˜This is a fool’s errand,’ Luka muttered. ‘We could’ve been sleeping by the fire, getting back our strength. What are we doing wandering round this hellhole at midnight? We’ll be lucky if we get out alive.’
    â€˜Sweetheart will keep us safe.’ Emilia’s voice shook, and she took a deep shuddering breath. She felt small and vulnerable. Her left wrist was too light and bare, the absence of her bracelet weighing her down as the charms had never done. Footsore, heartsore, and unutterably weary, Emilia trudged on.
    The only light came from lanterns hung outside the doors of the inns, illuminating the shabby signs that hung above the steps. The inns all seemed to be called something black, like theBlack Jack or the Black Lamb. One was called, oddly, the Vine and the Rose. Emilia had never seen a less rosy-looking place. Then Hallelujah led them into a dark square where the rickety wooden buildings all leant upon each other’s shoulders like melancholy drunks.
    â€˜That is the Cradle and the Coffin just there,’ Hallelujah whispered. ‘It’s not a place for