The Empire of Glass - Andy Lane [21]
"Er... yes, you're almost word-perfect." Vicki opened her mouth to say something else, but yawned instead. "Excuse me," she murmured, then continued: "How long have you been sitting in the window watching me?"
"Presence awake is keeping you my," Albrellian hooted in concern.
"Apologies like water flow. Perhaps, if allow me to you, might to speak with you again return will I." He seemed to fall backwards out of the window, his wings opening to fill the space, and then he was gone and the stars were shining down upon her. Moments later, something soared against the pocked face of the moon, but it could have been anything.
Vicki shook her head and laughed. Dreams! You never knew what you were going to get.
She snuggled down beneath the blanket and closed her eyes.
What next, she wondered? A handsome lover? A fairy-tale palace?
She dreamed. Again.
Steven tried to spring to his feet, or even just to turn his head, but he couldn't move. All he could do was gaze in horror at the crushed, mangled chest of the corpse on the ground in front of him. Whatever caused that incredible, charnel-house damage was standing behind him. Right behind him. He could hear it shuffling closer, ready to pounce. Its breath was hot against the back of his neck. He tried to will his legs to move, but the muscles were rigid and quivering with tension.
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Steven pounded his fist against his thigh, trying to provoke some reaction, even if the muscle just spasmed and sent him sprawling on the cobbles. Nothing. Just hot breath on the back of his neck.
"I wouldn't punish yourself," a voice said from behind him. "The man's dead."
The paralysis left as unexpectedly as it had appeared, and Steven slumped to his knees. Turning, he saw a middle-aged man dressed in faded velvets. He had a bushy beard and watchful eyes.
"Who are you?" Steven asked, standing upright.
"My name is Galileo Galilei," the man replied, as if he expected Steven to recognize the name. To his own surprise, Steven did.
"The astronomer?"
Galileo nodded. "The very same. And you are?"
"Steven Taylor." Suddenly remembering the body at his feet, he blurted, "I didn't do it, you know," before he could stop himself.
"I know," Galileo said, walking around to Steven's side to gaze down on the corpse. He seemed strangely unmoved by the sight.
"The wound was obviously made by something sharp and long - a sword, I would presume. You possess nothing of that shape about your person, and no scabbard to indicate that you ever had one.
Logic would dictate, therefore, that unless you have supernaturally caused the weapon to vanish, you are innocent." He smiled, causing his bushy beard to twitch. "Of course, had you the power to cause a murder weapon to vanish into thin air, then you would not have required one to begin with, for you would have been able to strike the man dead with a word, or perhaps reach into his very bosom and crush his heart without so much as breaking the skin."
He cocked his head to one side and gazed at Steven, frowning.
"You are silent. Do you find some fault with my reasoning?"
"No!" Steven exclaimed. "Far from it! I'm innocent, and I'm not about to argue with anybody who believes me." He gazed wildly along the sides of the canal, but there was nobody but the two of them around. The crowds he had walked amongst earlier seemed to stick to well-defined tributaries, leaving little undisturbed Venetian backwaters such as this. "Shouldn't we call the police or something? I mean, there's been a murder. Someone should be told. I think -"
Galileo raised a hand. "I think not. I have but recently left the scene of another suspicious death. The local police may not believe me to be as innocent as I believe myself to be."
"Why not?" Steven asked. "I get the impression that death by violence isn't anything special around here." He caught