Lord of the Shadows by Darren Shan Read Free Book Online Page B

to drink?”

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T OMMY WAS ASTONISHED to see me alive when I’d been declared dead and buried eighteen years earlier. Then there was the fact that I only looked a handful of years older. It was almost too much for him to comprehend. For a while he listened to me talk, nodding weakly, not taking anything in. But eventually his head cleared and he focused on what I was saying.
    I spun him a far-fetched but just about believable tale. I felt bad, lying to my old friend, but the truth was stranger than fiction — it was simpler and safer this way. I said I had a rare disease that prevented me from aging normally. It was discovered when I was a child. The doctors gave me five or six years to live. My parents were devastated by the news, but since we could do nothing to prevent it, we told no one and tried to lead a normal life for as long as we could.
    Then the Cirque Du Freak came to town.
    “I ran into an extraordinary physician,” I lied. “He was traveling with the Cirque, making a study of the freaks. He said he could help me, but I’d have to leave home and travel with the Cirque — I’d need constant monitoring. I talked it over with my parents and we decided to fake my death, so I could leave without arousing suspicions.”
    “But for heaven’s sake, why?” Tommy exploded. “Your parents could have left with you. Why put everyone through so much pain?”
    “How would we have explained it?” I sighed. “The Cirque Du Freak is an illegal traveling show. My parents would have had to give up everything and go undercover to be with me. It wouldn’t have been fair to them, and it would have been dreadfully unfair to Annie.”
    “But there must have been some other way,” Tommy protested.
    “Maybe,” I said. “But we didn’t have much time to think it over. The Cirque Du Freak was only in town for a few days. We discussed the proposal put forward by the physician and accepted it. I think the fact that I’m still alive all these years later, against all medical odds, justifies that decision.”
    Tommy shook his head uncertainly. He’d grown up to be a very large man, tall and broad, with huge hands and bulging muscles. His black hair was receding prematurely — he’d be bald in a few more years. But despite his physical presence, his eyes were soft. He was a gentle man. The idea of letting a child fake his death and be buried alive was repulsive to him.
    “What’s done is done,” I said. “Maybe my parents should have searched for another way. But they had my best interests at heart. Hope was offered and they seized it, regardless of the terrible price.”
    “Did Annie know?” Tommy asked.
    “No. We never told her.” I guessed Tommy had no way of contacting my parents directly, to check out my story, but he could have gone to Annie. I had to sidetrack him.
    “Not even afterwards?” Tommy asked.
    “I talked about it with Mom and Dad — we keep in touch and meet up every few years — but we never felt the time was right. Annie had her own problems, having a baby so young.”
    “That
was
tough,” Tommy agreed. “I was still living here. I didn’t know her very well, but I heard all about it.”
    “That must have been just before your soccer career took off,” I said, leading him away from talk about me. We discussed his career after that, some of the big matches he’d been involved in, what he planned to do when he retired. He wasn’t married but he had two kids from a previous relationship.
    “I only get to see them a couple of times a year and during the summer,” he said sadly. “I hope to move to where they live when I quit soccer, to be closer to them.”
    Most of the performers, crew, and guests had departed by this stage. Harkat had seen me talking with Tommy and made a sign asking if I wanted him to stick around. I signaled back that I was OK and he’d left with the others. A few people still sat and talked softly in the tent, but nobody was near Tommy and