The Story of Cirrus Flux by Matthew Skelton

Author:Matthew Skelton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Europe, Body, Magic, London (England), Family, Adventure and adventurers, Juvenile Fiction, Orphans & Foster Homes, General, Fantasy, Great Britain, supernatural, Historical, Mind & Spirit, Science Fiction, Orphans, Action & Adventure, History
ISBN: 9780440421696
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2010-09-15T07:00:00+00:00

Cirrus, Alone

Cirrus rolled over on the hard, lumpy ground and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He was lying in a churchyard. Gravestones pitted the darkness around him and a tall steeple blocked out the sky.

He sat up. A light was growing steadily bigger and brighter in the adjoining lane.

“Oi! You there!” shouted a watchman, holding up a lantern. “This ground is no place for the living. Off with ye, boy!”

Cirrus staggered to his feet. The night had seeped into his bones and he was shivering with cold. His jacket and breeches were filthy. He moved stiffly away from the churchyard, onto the road.

The watchman shoved him rudely on with his cudgel.

Even now, in the middle of the night, Cirrus was aware of other people shuffling beside him in the dark. Night-soil men removed cartloads of excrement from the yards of the houses, while boys with sputtering torches lounged in doorways, waiting for people to escort home. A church bell tolled the ungodly hour.

Cirrus stumbled blindly on. He had no idea where he was going. His only friend in the world was Bottle Top, but he could no longer remember the name of the gentleman who had apprenticed him or the location of his museum. And he had no way of finding the girl.

He had long since given up asking for assistance. “Out of my sight, boy!” and “Confound your stupid questions!” were just two of the replies he had received from passing strangers the day before. Several times he had even been given a clap on the ear for no reason at all. Finally, exhausted, he had fallen asleep in a churchyard not far from the river.

And now here he was, on the march again.

As soon as he could, he gave the night watchman the slip and disappeared down a side alley. The dome of St. Paul’s, which he had been using to navigate his way, was no longer visible, hidden behind a warren of tall buildings.

He kept going.

Gradually, the darkness lifted and people began to file through the streets. Carts and carriages clattered everywhere. So many people. How could he possibly hope to find Bottle Top or the girl in this crowd?

Eventually, he sat down in a sheltered courtyard to rest his weary feet. His head was aching and his stomach panged with hunger. Grocers and merchants were plying their trade in the surrounding streets. He took out his sphere, wishing again that it could show him the right way to go, but all it seemed to do was point at the other side of the world. How had his father come by it? What was it for?

He must have drifted off to sleep, for when he next looked up a gang of boys had crowded round him. Their faces were lean and hungry, and there was a dangerous glint in their eyes.

Cirrus jumped to his feet, but they immediately knocked him down again.

“ ’Ere, what’s that round ’is neck?” asked the boy nearest him. His coat was riddled with holes, and a sooty neckerchief was knotted round his throat.

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