Two and Twenty Dark Tales Read Online Free PDF Page B

her trembling palm.
    Golden light shone within a delicate crystal vial. “The Queen’s own honey,” she said. “I serve food to many of the guards, including the djinn. With this…”
    Blackbird nodded, wary of the poison within the crystal. He knew what happened when any immortal spirit consumed even a drop of the honey. Perhaps the maid could get the dish after all.
    “He trapped my brothers within the reflection of that plate.”
    “Four and twenty. I know the story well. Of how you and your kin rebelled against the king. Of how all, all but you, were imprisoned. They say you bought your freedom through betrayal.”
    Blackbird scowled, ill at ease at being reminded of sins from long ago. “How will you get it?”
    The maid sighed and sipped from his mug. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. “The Queen never leaves the Parlor now. She has the keys to where the dish is kept. After dinner she falls into a stupor which lasts for hours. A child could take the key from her then. I will collect the dish and return the keys to her chubby hands before she stirs.”
    “Where will you be? The Counting House is all but impregnable.”
    “The garden. No one uses it now. Meet me there. If I do not have the dish, you may fly off. If I have it, you will carry me beyond the wall.”
    “Do you know what lies outside?” asked Blackbird.
    The girl lowered her head. “It must be better than this.”
    Her misery was palpable. Blackbird said nothing as he pondered the deal. Even if she could do it, they had many miles to fly to reach the wall, and the others of the Counting House and the Parlor would be after them. If they were caught, he’d be lucky to merely have his wings torn off. If unlucky, he would spend eternity inside the dish. He had seen the dish’s effects; it broke the spirits of the greatest fiends. Whether lowly imp or great lord, the dish was a nightmare realm for those who considered themselves masters of Hell.
    Could he fly her beyond the wall? To the endless desert of wailing, lost souls and mortals too degenerate and twisted to belong within the city? They were outcasts who preyed on each other. And this was what the girl wanted? No, there was more. Someone out there she wanted to rejoin, perhaps? A lover? A parent?
    “My child,” she whispered, sensing his question. “He is out there.”
    “No. He cannot be. No child could survive beyond the wall.” Was it pity, a faint flicker of compassion in his shriveled soul that made him say it? “Forget this and go back to the Counting House.”
    She shook her head. “You do not understand. Not knowing is worse than anything beyond the black gates. I don’t care what happens to me, but if he is out there, he needs me. If he is not, then I will know.” She raised her face and stared hard at him. “What difference does it make to you? Just take me beyond the walls.”
    “What is a child doing beyond the wall?”
    “It is the fate of all of the King’s bastards.”
    Ah. The King had passions beyond his treasure and the Queen was no longer able to accommodate them. If allowed to stay, the Counting House would overflow with his illegitimate offspring. Too cowardly to kill them cleanly, he made them suffer an even worse fate: exile.
    Blackbird held out his taloned hand. “Be in the garden at twelfth bell.”
    The girl shook it.
    ***
    Blackbird left the Six-Pence and wandered along the narrow, ramshackle streets. The streets emptied as the sky darkened from slate grey to charcoal, and the mortals took shelter before the bells chimed. The clouds rumbled. The rain fell hard, and large, swampy puddles swelled about him. The mud thickened and great, dirty torrents tumbled from the roofs, walls of water covering the crooked doorways and narrow alleys. He needed to return to his nest and prepare.
    His wings shook free, glossy black and so wide they almost touched the walls. Blackbird bristled with anticipation, his feathers rolling like waves. The buildings above him