I was in a cheerful mood, and with good reason. My protégé, Will Farmer, had just landed his first highstacking job. An apothecary by the name of Arnold Tilling had taken Will on as his regular tick-tock lad, to deliver potions and pills to his many customers all over town. Now Will was practising his high-stacking skills over the city’s rooftops, from noisy Potter’s Reach, the air ringing with the tapping and banging of its coopers, wheelwrights and coppersmiths, to hushed Blackchapel with its barristers and clerics; from flea-bitten Eastgate to toffee-nosed Chalfont; from silk emporia in the opulent Asquith Arcade to grubby attics in the rundown Wasps’ Nest … I was delighted for him, and with his wages he’d been able to afford to take attic rooms next to mine and invest in a fine new coalstack hat and gamekeeper’s waistcoat. Smiling to myself at Will’s good fortune, I shinned down a drainpipe to the window-ledge of the professor’s laboratory and climbed inside. The professor – or PB to his friends – was perched on a green velvet-upholstered ottoman, a raised scientific journal obscuring his face.
What do You think about Legion Of The Dead (2008)?
