Inkheart (41 page)

Basta took
Peter Pan
out of his waistband and put the book down on the steps. "I think it comes out of here," he said. "Look at the picture on the cover. There are more pictures of her inside.

And guess who read her out of it." He squeezed Tinker Bell so hard that she gulped silently for air, while he laid his other hand on Meggie's shoulder. She tried to shake off his fingers, but Basta merely tightened his grip.

"The girl?" Capricorn sounded incredulous.

"Yes, and it seems as though she's as good at it as her father. Look at this fairy." Basta grabbed Tinker Bell's slender legs and dangled her up in the air. "Seems perfectly all right, doesn't she?

She can fly and scold and make tinkling sounds, all the things those stupid fairies do."

"Interesting. Yes, very interesting indeed." Capricorn rose from his chair, tightened the belt of his dressing gown, and came down the steps. He stopped beside the book that Basta had put down on them. "So it runs in the family!" he murmured as he bent to pick it up. Frowning, he looked at the cover.
"Peter Pan,"
he read. "Why, that's one of the books my old reader Darius particularly liked. Yes, now I remember. He once read to me from it. The idea was to lure out one of those pirates, but he failed miserably. He fetched a load of stinking fish and a rusty grappling iron into my bedroom instead. Didn't we punish him by making him eat the fish?"

Basta laughed. "Yes, but he was even more upset that you had his books taken away. He must have hidden this one."

"So he must have." Capricorn went over to Meggie, looking thoughtful. She would have liked to bite his fingers when he put his hand under her chin, turning her face so that she had to look straight into his lifeless eyes. "See how she looks at me, Basta?" he remarked mockingly. "Just as obstinate as her father always was. Better save that look for him, sweetheart. You're very angry with your father, I'm sure. But I couldn't care less where
he
is. Because from now on I have you, my new, my wonderfully talented reader — whereas you, well, you must hate him for abandoning you, right? Don't be ashamed of it. Hatred can be very inspiring. I never liked my own father either."

Meggie turned her head aside when Capricorn finally let go of her chin. Her face was burning with shame and fury, and she could still feel his fingers as if they had left marks on her skin.

"Did Basta tell you why he was to bring you here so late at night?"

"To meet someone." Meggie tried to make her voice sound bold and unafraid, but she didn't succeed. The sobs in her throat would only let a whisper emerge.

"That's right!" Capricorn gave the Magpie a signal. She came down the steps and disappeared into the dark beyond the columns. A little later there was a creaking sound above Meggie's head, and when she looked up to the roof in alarm she saw something being lowered from the darkness: a net, no, two nets such as she had seen in fishing boats. They stopped and hung there about five meters above the floor, just over Meggie's head, and only then did she see human figures caught in the coarse ropes — like birds entangled in the netting over a fruit tree. Meggie was feeling dizzy just from looking up. What must it be like to be dangling up there, held only by a few cords?

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"Well, don't you recognize your old friend?" Capricorn put his hands in his dressing-gown pockets. Tinker Bell was still held in Basta's fingers like a broken doll. Her faint tinkling was the only sound to be heard. "Yes, I see you do!" There was no mistaking the satisfaction in Capricorn's voice. "That's what happens to filthy little traitors who steal keys and set prisoners free."

Meggie refused to look at Capricorn. She had eyes only for Dustfinger.

"Hello, Meggie! You look rather pale!" he called down. He was trying very hard to sound lighthearted, but Meggie heard the terror in his voice. She knew what voices meant. "I'm supposed to give you love from your father! He'll come for you soon, he says, and he won't come alone."

"You'll make a teller of fairy tales yet if you carry on like that, fire-eater!" Basta called up. "But even the girl here doesn't believe that tale. You'll have to think up something better!"

Meggie stared up at Dustfinger. She so wanted to believe him.

"Basta, let go of that poor fairy!" he called to his old enemy. "Send her up to me. It's far too long since I saw one of those."

"Oh, I bet you'd like that. No, I'm keeping her for myself!" replied Basta, flicking Tinker Bell's tiny nose with his finger. "I've heard that fairies keep bad luck away if you keep them in your house.

I'll put her in one of those big glass wine jugs. You were always so keen on fairies — what do they eat? Do I feed her flies, or what?"

Tinker Bell braced her arms against his fingers and tried desperately to free her second wing.

She managed it, too, but Basta had a strong grip on her legs, and hard as she fluttered she couldn't break free. At last, with a quiet tinkle, she gave up. Her light was hardly any brighter now than a candle flickering out.

"Do you know why I had the girl brought here, Dustfinger?" called Capricorn up to his prisoner.

"She was to persuade you to tell us something about her father and where he is — if you really know anything, which I begin to doubt. But now I don't need the information anymore. The daughter can take her father's place, and just at the right time, too! For I've decided that we must think up something really special for your punishment. Something impressive, something memorable! After all, that's only right for a traitor, isn't it? Can you guess what my idea is? No?

Then let me give you a clue. In your honor, my new reader will read aloud to us from
Ink-heart.

It's your favorite book, after all, even though I know you're not very fond of the character I want her to bring out of it. Her father would have fetched that old friend for me long ago if you hadn't helped him to escape, but now his daughter will do it. Can you guess who it is I mean?"

Dustfinger laid his scarred cheek against the net. "Oh yes, indeed I can. How could I ever forget him?" he said so quietly that Meggie could hardly make out the words.

"Why are you talking only about the fire-eater's punishment?" The Magpie had appeared between the columns again "Have you forgotten our little mute pigeon, Resa? Her treachery was at least as bad as his." She looked up at the second net with a disdainful expression.

"Yes, to be sure!" There was something almost like regret in Capricorn's voice. "Ah, what a waste

— but there's nothing else for it."

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Meggie couldn't see the face of the woman dangling in the second net just beyond Dustfinger.

She saw only the dark blond hair, a blue dress, and slender hands clinging to the ropes.

Capricorn sighed heavily. "It really is a shame," he said, turning to Dustfinger. "Why did you have to pick on her, of all people? Couldn't you have persuaded one of the others to go nosing around for you? I really have had a weakness for her, ever since that useless Darius read her out of the book for me. It never bothered me that she lost her voice in the process. No, far from it, I stupidly assumed that meant I could trust her more. Did you know her hair used to look like spun gold?"

"Yes, I remember that," said Dustfinger hoarsely. "But in your presence it's turned darker."

"Nonsense!" Capricorn frowned with annoyance. "Maybe we should try fairy dust. Sprinkled with a little fairy dust, they say, even brass will look like gold. Perhaps it works on a woman's hair as well."

"Hardly worth the trouble!" said the Magpie mockingly. "Unless you want her to look particularly beautiful for her execution."

"Oh, never mind." Capricorn turned abruptly and went back to the steps. Meggie hardly noticed.

She was looking up at the strange woman. Capricorn's words were working away feverishly in her mind: hair like spun gold . . . that useless reader Darius . . . No, it couldn't be true. She stared up, narrowing her eyes to see the face better through the ropes, but it was hidden in dark shadows.

"Good." Capricorn dropped into his chair again with another heavy sigh. "How long will we need for the preparations? It all should be done properly, I think."

"Two days." The Magpie climbed the steps and took up her position behind him. "If you want to summon the men from the other bases, that is."

Capricorn frowned. "Yes, why not? It's time to show everyone a little example. Discipline has left much to be desired recently." He looked at Basta as he said this, and Basta bowed his head as if all the misdemeanors of the last few days weighed heavily on him. "The day after tomorrow, then," Capricorn went on. "When darkness falls. I want Darius to carry out another experiment with the girl first. Get her to read something out of a book, anything — I just want to make sure that fairy didn't turn up by pure chance."

Basta had wrapped Tinker Bell in his jacket again. Meggie wanted to put her hands over her ears so as not to hear the feeble tinkling sounds the fairy was making. She pressed her lips together to stop them from trembling and looked up at Capricorn.

"But I won't read aloud for you!" she said. Her voice rang out through the church at twice its usual volume. "Not a word! I won't read you out any treasure, and I certainly won't read out some kind of — of executioner!" She spat the word into Capricorn's face.

But Capricorn only toyed with the belt of his dressing gown, looking bored. "Take her away," he told Basta. "It's late. The child must get some sleep."

Basta prodded Meggie in the back. "You heard. Go on, get moving."

Meggie looked up at Dustfinger one last time, then walked uncertainly down the nave ahead of Basta. When she passed below the second net she looked up again. The unknown woman's face
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was still hidden, but she thought she could make out her eyes, and a slender nose . . . and if she imagined the hair somewhat lighter in color —

"Go on, I said!" snapped Basta.

Meggie obeyed, but she kept looking back. "I won't do it!" she cried when she had almost reached the church porch. "I swear! I won't read
anyone
here. Ever!"

"Oh, don't swear oaths you can't keep!" whispered Basta as he pushed the door open and led her out into the brightly floodlit square.

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Chapter 40 – The Black Horse of the Night

He bent down and lifted Sophie from his pocket.... She was still in her nightie and her feet
were bare. She shivered and stared around her at the swirling mists and ghostly vapors.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"We is in Dream Country," the BFG said. "This is where all dreams is beginning."

–
Roald Dahl,
The BFG

Fenoglio was lying on his bed when Basta pushed Meggie in through the door.

"What have you done to her?" he demanded of Basta, swiftly getting to his feet. "She's white as a sheet!"

But Basta had already closed the door behind him. "You'll be relieved in two hours," Meggie heard him tell the guard. Then he was gone.

Fenoglio put his hands on Meggie's shoulders and looked in her face with concern. "Come on, tell me. What did they want you for? Is your father here?"

Meggie shook her head. "They've caught Dustfinger," she said. "And a woman."

"What woman? Heavens, what a state you're in!" Fenoglio drew her over to the bed, and Meggie sat down beside him.

"I think she's my mother," she whispered.

"Your mother?" Fenoglio looked at her in astonishment. His eyes were bloodshot from his sleepless night.

Distractedly, Meggie smoothed down her skirt. It was dirty and crumpled. No wonder, she'd been sleeping in it for days. "Her hair's darker now," she stammered, "and of course Mo's photo of her is nine years old . . . Capricorn has her in a net, and Dustfinger, too. He's going to have them both executed in two days' time, and I'm supposed to read someone out of
Inkheart
to do it, that friend, as Capricorn calls him. I told you. Mo was supposed to be going to do it. You wouldn't tell me who the friend was, but now you must!" She looked pleadingly at Fenoglio.

The old man closed his eyes. "Merciful heaven!" he murmured.

Outside, it was still dark. The moon hung in the sky in front of their window, with a cloud drifting past it like a tattered dress.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," said Fenoglio. "That's a promise."

"No! Tell me now."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "It's not a story for this hour of night. You'll have bad dreams afterward."

"Tell me!" Meggie repeated.

Fenoglio sighed. "Oh dear. I know that look from my grandchildren," he said. "Very well, then."

He helped her up to her bunk, put Mo's sweater under her head, and pulled the blanket up to her
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chin. "I'll tell it to you the way I wrote it in
Inkheart,"
he said quietly. "I know that passage almost by heart. I was very proud of it at the time." He cleared his throat before he began, whispering the words into the night.
"But one being was feared even more than Capricorn's men. He was
known as the Shadow, and he appeared only when Capricorn called him. Sometimes he was red as
fire, sometimes as gray as the ashes into which fire turns all that it devours. He leaped from the
ground like flame flickering up from wood. His touch and even his breath brought death. He rose up
at his master's feet, soundless and faceless, scenting the air like a dog on the trail, waiting to be
shown his victim."
Fenoglio swept a hand over his forehead and looked at the window. It was some time before he went on, as if he were recalling the words to mind from long ago.
"They
say,"
he continued at last,
"that Capricorn had the Shadow made from his victims' ashes by a troll,
or the dwarves who know all that fire and smoke can do. No one was certain, for it was said that
Capricorn had those who had brought the Shadow to life killed afterward. But everyone knew one
thing: The Shadow was immortal and invulnerable and as pitiless as his master."