The Dark City by Imogen Rossi Read Free Book Online

 … ’ I smile, enjoying the feel of the name on my lips.
    I turn away from the statue and set off down another street, following a man with bright yellow stars embroidered on his tunic. We cross a bridge over the dark canal and I stop for a few minutes to watch the reflections of the hundreds of candles in the windows of the buildings glittering in the water. I nod to a pair of guards dressed in glinting silver armour engraved with swirling patterns like the trails of ink in water.
    Walking alongside the canal, I find a little group of peddlers’ stalls. They seem to sell anything and everything – silver jewellery, books, birds in cages and strange-looking food and drink.
    I stop by a stall that sells fruit, though it’s not like any fruit that grows in La Luminosa. One is the shape of a pear, but has the deep red colour of ripe strawberries, and when I reach out gingerly to touch the surface, it’s fuzzy and soft like a peach. I pick it up and give it a very gentle squeeze. I bet it’s juicy and delicious.
    My mouth waters. But I haven’t got any money, or any way to barter for the beautiful fruit. I can’t help myself as I bring the fruit to my mouth and take a bite. Sweet juice flows into my mouth – it tastes like pears, peaches and strawberries all mixed together. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten.
    â€˜Oi!’
    I look up just in time to duck as the peddler leans over the stall and makes a grab for my shoulder.
    â€˜Little thief!’ the peddler yells, shoving a customer aside, marching out from behind the cart.
    I back away, my cheeks burning. ‘I’m so sorry  …  I  … ’ I toss the fruit back at the peddler, turn and launch into a run.
    â€˜Guards!’ the peddler shouts. The crowd joins in the cry as I pound along the canalside. ‘Guards, thief! Stop her!’
    Glancing back, I catch a flash of glinting silver as the guards on the bridge begin to run after me; I put on a burst of speed. A pair of men in heavy clanking armour will never outrun me! The next bridge isn’t guarded and I sprint up and over it, ducking into the first alley I see on the other side.
    Eventually my breath starts to rasp painfully in my throat and I stagger to a stop. A stitch stabs into my side and I gasp and lean against a wall.
    I look around, intrigued. This seems like a more expensive part of the city – it’s a lot like the part of La Luminosa where Filpepi’s studio was, with its big houses set back from the road. The closest one has a garden in front of it, just like Filpepi’s, where trees bend their branches together to form an arch – though these trees aren’t the flowering orange trees that grow in La Luminosa. They’re thin, black-barked and without leaves, more like wrought-iron statues than real plants.
    Angela once told me the best cure for a stitch was to keep walking, so I clamp my hand to my side and take a few steps down the road, hoping that by doubling back I will avoid the guards. I want to see the statue of di Lombardi again, and I wonder if I can find it – or if maybe the city will arrange itself for me so I stumble across it? I set off, guessing which way the square must be.
    But as I round a corner, half-expecting to find myself on the edge of the square, or at least back in the maze of streets and canals near the abandoned courtyard, I look up and see something quite amazing.
    On the other side of a wide, black canal looms a magnificent castle. A bridge leads to the main gate, and banners flutter from its towers, just like the Palace of La Luminosa. But instead of the logical, geometric towers and courtyards of the palace, this castle is as thin and dark as one of the black trees in the garden – it seems to meander upwards, little round towers springing off the central building at random. The lightning in the thunder-lamps here casts flickering blue and