Youri stood there without moving. Lira was dead. The last person he could call family was gone, just like all the others, and now he was truly alone. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come.
Knox held out his hand to him. "Youri, isn't it? I came here for another reason besides telling you about Lira. I want you to come with me. Now that you're alone, I can take good care of you — and I'm obliged to, since I've already bought Day Light. Will you come with me?"
Youri looked up into Knox's black eyes, and deep inside he sensed another meaning behind those words, a shadow he could not name. But in his situation there was only one choice he could make. "Thank you, Mr. Knox," he said, and he took the man's hand. A wide grin spread across Knox's face as he led him to the car.
The drive was long. They passed far beyond Talion into the outskirts, where the city faded away into dense wilderness, and there, all by itself, stood a lonely house surrounded by thick greenery and towering trees that enclosed the whole property in a dark, quiet embrace. A perfectly trimmed lawn stretched out in front of it like a velvet carpet, and the hedges of its garden were shaped with deliberate care so that every curve led the eye toward the mansion itself, which rose like a monument of stone — tall narrow windows and steep slate-gray roofs and turrets that gave it a faintly gothic charm — with broad steps leading up to a heavy dark-wood door flanked by sculpted plants.
Knox opened the door and invited him in. Youri was struck speechless. The entrance hall glowed under soft golden light, and a wooden staircase wound upward with its banister carved in intricate patterns and polished to a warm sheen, while a chandelier above scattered warm light across golden walls, dark wood and an ornate rug. Knox led him into a living room with towering black walls carved with delicate moldings around a massive hearth, where flames flickered over shelves full of old books, brass ornaments and strange relics. Deep crimson curtains fell from arched windows almost to the ceiling.
"This is my house," Knox said. "I hope you'll like it. Feel free to look through the books. They took me years to collect, and they're from all over the universe. I'm sure you'll find countless stories in them."
"Thank you, Mr. Knox," Youri said.
Knox smiled and clapped his hands once. "Now, let me show you your room."
They climbed the stairs into a long hallway lit by soft brass fixtures, past two closed doors to a third at the very end, and when Knox opened it, Youri saw a room unlike anything he had ever imagined having for himself. Its walls were a deep blue that rose into shadowed corners where the lamplight barely reached, and heavy drapes framed tall double doors that opened onto a balcony. The bed was enormous and looked impossibly soft, piled with patterned pillows and dark layered blankets. A velvet throw of midnight blue spilled from one side like poured ink, and on the bedside table a fringed lamp cast a warm halo over the edge of an old book.
A few minutes later, Knox received a call about some business and stepped out. Youri was alone in his new home — a home he had never imagined. He walked to the bed and pressed his hand into its soft layers and gave the mattress a small, testing bounce. A smile tugged at his face. He had always imagined what it would be like on the day he finally left the orphanage. But the smile faded as quickly as it had come. Memories of Lira and Emma and Liam, of laughter echoing down Day Light's hallways, came rushing back all at once. Finally the tears came. He had a soft bed now and a grand new house, but there was no one to share it with. His small family was gone, and the weight of that loneliness crushed the boy's heart more deeply than anything ever had.
Knox came back to the house a little later, when evening had settled over the trees, and climbed the stairs to Youri's room to invite him down to dinner. The dining room held a long polished table that reflected the warm glow of the chandelier above it, surrounded by high-backed chairs upholstered in a regal wine-red, arranged in a precise, almost ceremonial ring.
As the two of them sat down, a woman came in carrying several dishes and began to arrange them neatly on the table. "Thank you, Anastasia," Knox said, and then he added, "Oh, and I'd like to introduce you to our guest. He'll be living with me from now on. His name is Youri. Youri, this is Anastasia."
Anastasia bowed slightly. She looked to be in her mid-forties, with neatly gathered ginger hair and calm brown eyes, and once all the plates were set, she left the room without saying a single word.
Knox lifted his glass and sipped his wine. "So, Youri. Do you like your room?"
"Yes," Youri said. "It's very nice."
Knox smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."
They went on eating in silence. Youri ate slowly and carefully, the way Lira had taught him, and every so often he glanced up and found Knox watching him over the rim of his glass with that same unchanging smile, as though he were studying something he had bought and was pleased with.
Then a sudden crack of thunder shook the air, and for a single bright instant the lightning lit up the grounds behind the house and showed Youri something through the dining room window that he had not noticed before: a sealed basement set into the earth, its metal bindings glinting sharply in the flash. And from somewhere inside it came a faint, agonizing cry, muffled almost at once by the deafening roar of the storm.