Burning Bright Read Online Free Page A

faded out.
    He leapt neatly up the wall, grabbing the first set of handholds even as his feet felt for grooves to rest on. Assured of his grip, Raz began to climb, up and up the cathedral wall until he reached the cracked window near the top of the west wing. Pushing the broken window open, he climbed over the edge and all but toppled inside.  He regained his feet just as Pechal climbed in behind him, hit the floor smoothly, and turned to close the window and pull an old blanket across it.
    Raz moved easily through the dark, fumbled briefly with their lantern, and then the pungent scent of sulfur filled the room when he struck a match to light it. Warm orange-yellow light filled their little space, a disused corner of the upper attic that none of the priests seemed to remember existed.
    It wasn't much, but it was home:  two piles of discarded blankets and pillows that comprised their beds, and still more pillows were piled on the other side to serve as chairs. They shared one small trunk that they had snuck in through the cathedral itself and which contained all their clothes and other worldly possessions:  bits and baubles they had clung to while making their way as thieves for hire.
    They got settled in, tucking away purses and tools of the trade, wiping off dirt and brushing more away from where they had climbed up. Raz exchanged a smile with Pechal, reached out to ruffle his hair.  Not much at all, but they were all the home they'd ever really need.
    "I'm going down," Raz said, slipping away before Pechal could make fun of him.  Leaving their little room by way of the small crawlspace that was the closest they had to a door, he picked his way across the half-rotted floor of the upper attic, ignoring the rodents and birds that shared the space with them. Halfway across, he slipped down through the open trapdoor to the main attic which was much better maintained. Weak moonlight slipped in through cracks and a few small windows to provide paltry guidance. At the far end, he opened another trapdoor and climbed down the steep stairwell to the uppermost floor of the cathedral, where most of the bedrooms and various workrooms were located.
    Everything was so silent every breath he drew was audible. Moving as silently as possible, Raz headed down the hallway to the narrow staircase that eventually turned into the great stair that led down to the cathedral proper.
    He stopped just short of going all the way down, keeping to the mezzanine level and all but pressed up against the back wall as he walked closer to the front of the sanctuary. He sank down to sit on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, and closed his eyes while he listened to the priests singing the midnight vigil below.
    Raz didn't understand the words; he'd never learned to read and never received any sort of formal education, so he only knew the hymns by listening to them. But he had listened to them so many times he at least knew what to say, even if he did not understand what he was saying.
    Eyes still closed, Raz began to sing along softly with priests, absorbed by the song, lost in the singing. It made him a calm sort of happy,  in opposition to the hot thrill of a theft gone well. He remained there and sang until the bells finally rang out the first hour and the singing tapered off. Reluctantly standing, Raz slipped away again and returned to their little attic room.
    Pechal already lay in his bed, paging through a little book of blank pages in which he liked to doodle. Their little trunk had half a dozen of the books, every last scrap of paper filled with drawings in charcoal, pencil, ink—whatever Pechal was able to find. "How was the singing?" he asked.
    "Beautiful," Raz said softly, feeling sad for no reason he could name, as he always did after the hymns.
    "You're going to get us caught one of these days."
    Raz rolled his eyes because he was sick of the argument. "If they catch me they'll just assume I'm one of the homeless who managed to