These Dark Wings Read Online Free PDF

takes off his blue hat, wipes his forehead. The hair that remains to him is bright white, like clumps of snow over his ears. He is the only one in the Tower of a grandfather age. He looks out over the ancient castle, red in the sunset.
    ‘Pretty sight, isn’t it?’
    No sign of Oakes down there; only Merlin, his black eyes inspecting me, his head almost turned upside down.
    ‘It is beautiful, Yeoman Sparks.’
    ‘In 1928, at 1.30 a.m., a tidal wave swept over the wharf, filled the moat up to its gills. Worry is that a direct hit from an incendiary could flood it all again. And we’ll be needing those carrots.’
    It is hard to imagine the moat filled with water. The trench of earth is now an allotment of vegetables, worked daily by both men and women. And it is always carrots .
    ‘I hope the moat stays dry, Yeoman Sparks.’ My hands are still unsteady. ‘I must go and feed the ravens. With Uncle taken ill – he needs my help, sir.’
    He puts his hat back atop his glistening head. The old face, a mask of lines and wrinkles, splits into a smile.
    ‘Those birds. Next thing we know, you’ll be just like Henry, and then we’ll never hear a word about the Tower that doesn’t involve those bloody ravens. Come on, dear, I’ll walk you back safe and sound.’
    ‘Allow me,’ comes a voice.
    Standing at the end of the passage is Oakes.

    ‘Yeoman Oakes, sir.’
    He is looking at me with sharp eyes. Sparks has almost disappeared down the passage. Should I cry out? Call him back?
    ‘What are you doing up here?’
    I can think of nothing else to say – should I just run?
    ‘Looking for you, sir. Uncle told me to find you. But you weren’t in the hall—’
    ‘Looking for me?’
    There is no doubting that he is angry. At breakfast, Oakes is always so quiet he seems to be listening, which makes me nervous. Once he starts talking, though, I always wish he’d go back to staring at the wall. His voice is dry and cracked, as if he needs a glass of water. Or port.
    ‘Yes. I have a question, sir.’
    He knows. He knows I saw him.
    ‘What is your question, Anna?’
    ‘It’s about the... man who disappeared all those years ago. The prisoner.’
    ‘I see.’ He is still looking at me, searching. ‘And your uncle asked you to come to me?’
    ‘He said you could show me something. I don’t know what he meant, sir.’
    ‘Aha.’ Even as he tries to hide it, his face perks up. ‘So you’ve been inside the Salt Tower?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    For a moment his strange look returns.
    ‘Well, Anna. Then I’d better take you. Let you see it for yourself.’

    ‘I should go back... to help Uncle with the ravens.’
    Oakes does not even turn round. Why is he so horrible?
    ‘I was beginning to worry that you had no curiosity when it comes to Tower history, Anna. I wonder how Hew Draper caught your interest.’
    I can find no words. Hew Draper? Is that the man who disappeared?
    We walk in silence across the Inner Ward.
    He leads me alongside the curtain wall. I follow the blue coat and hat, always a few steps ahead. The wind is up, and in the coming night it is cold. I walk stiffly on.
    A tower stands just ahead, at the end of a short bridge. The outer stone rises up before me, dark and stained. Uncle may have said this was an important building. I stare at it, fighting to bring to mind anything helpful. The bridge shines damp.
    ‘Ah,’ he says, turning a corner. ‘Constable Tower. It will bring us to Salt Tower. Let’s hurry now, and see it while there is still light.’
    See what?
    Oakes beckons me across the bridge without another word, his cloak trailing in the wet leaves. I look up this time, staring hard at the dark stone.
    I am not afraid.

    We enter the tower in silence. The archway is narrow, even for me. I squeeze down the dark hall (how did Oakes manage?) and take the very steep stairs. Up and up, finally leading to a room.
    All I can see are old weapons and dust. It is windy, even inside, and just as I think it,