Blood Red, Snow White by Marcus Sedgwick Read Free Book Online Page A

paper stuck to the door with a drawing pin was Lev’s name.
    Arthur knocked, but there was no reply. He knocked louder, but still there was no reply. The third time, he thumped the door so hard the paper trembled, and the door swung open.
    There was a room full of people, all busy, all talking. No one had heard him knocking, and no one seemed to take any notice of him, so he tugged someone’s sleeve.
    “Lev?” he asked.
    The man shook his head, and pointed at a farther door.
    “In there,” he said. “He’s expecting you.”
    Arthur made his way across the room, round piles of papers and piles of rubbish, and put his hand on the brass doorknob. As he did so, he saw that he was being watched by a woman, and had to turn away, because she was too beautiful to look at.
    He opened the door and let himself in, and there was Lev, deep in conversation on the telephone. He motioned for Arthur to come in.
    He finished his phone call, though he took his time, but then Arthur and he talked, and Arthur made notes in his head for the story he would write later.
    Arthur was very impressed with Lev, and saw that he was a clever man, which he could tell from the way he stroked his small and excellent beard when he was thinking.
    Arthur left, and on his way through the outer room, was disappointed and relieved to see that the beautiful woman had gone, but as he made his way down the stairs, he saw her on the landing. He felt his eyes pull to hers, then look away, but not before he had seen her smile, ever so slightly.
    *   *   *
    It was nighttime. Arthur had spent the afternoon in his flat writing up his stories, but now he slipped into his old greatcoat, and as he ventured outside again, he was assaulted by the brutally low temperature.
    Snow lay across the city’s roads, swept by the wind into fantastical shapes and then frozen hard by the imperious cold. Arthur was weary, and hungry, too, but his work was not yet done for the day. He had to send his stories back home, and to do that meant asking permission from the censor who was in charge of such matters.
    On foot, he made his way slowly across the city to where this man worked, and found no guard on the door. It was late and the building was deserted, so he walked the empty corridors, calling out now and again for anyone who might hear.
    Finally, he saw light coming from under a door ahead of him. Thinking it had to be the man he had come to see, to approve his stories, he opened the door.
    There inside, was what he had been looking for.
    Not the man he needed, but something else entirely.
    A woman stood with her back to him, bent over something he could not see. She turned and he saw it was the beautiful girl from the school. Light from a single candle lit her face softly, and she smiled.
    In one hand she held a wooden spoon, and now he saw that she had been stirring something in a pot over a small stove.
    Arthur stepped into the room, and waved his stories.
    “Do you know where the censor is?”
    The girl shook her head. Her short dark hair swung, half covering one lovely eye. She held the spoon delicately, as if it were some kind of magic wand.
    “This is what you want,” she said, almost in a whisper.
    She nodded at the pot, and Arthur found himself drawn toward her. He looked inside.
    “Potatoes,” she murmured, as if it were the most beautiful word in the world. Her eyes lit up and Arthur realized how very hungry he was. He stood no more than a weak moment’s decision away from her, and looked into her eyes.
    This is what you want.
    And that was how the young writer found love, just when he had stopped looking for it.

 
    DARKNESS INTO DAYLIGHT
    THE WORLD WAS CHANGING. Nothing could stop that. There can be no magic by daylight, it is a thing of the dark and shadows and the black and white of nighttime, and just as that is true, it is also true that fairy tales cannot live in the modern world of color.
    The time for princes and tsars and grand duchesses and