Inkheart

  ventured to leave. Finally, even the two who had been standing beside Basta turned without a word and sat down with the others.

  ‘You’ll pay for Fulvio yet!’ Basta whispered to Mo before he stationed himself behind Meggie again. Why couldn’t he have disappeared? she thought.

  The boy still hadn’t uttered a sound.

  ‘Lock him up. We’ll see if he can be of any use to us later,’ ordered Capricorn.

  The boy did not resist as Flatnose led him away. Apparently numb, he stumbled along as if he were still expecting to wake up. When would he realise this dream was never going to end?

  When the door closed behind the two of them Capricorn returned to his chair. ‘Go on reading, Silvertongue,’ he said. ‘We still have a long day ahead of us.’

  But Mo looked at the books lying at his feet, and shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You saw. It happened again. I’m tired. Be content with what I’ve brought you from Treasure Island. Those coins are worth a fortune. I want to go home, and I never want to set eyes on you again.’ His voice sounded rougher than usual, as if it had read too many words aloud.

  Capricorn looked at Mo appraisingly before turning his eyes to the bags and chests his men had filled with coins. He seemed to be working out how long their contents would keep him in comfort.

  ‘Yes, you’re right,’ he said at last. ‘We’ll go on tomorrow. Otherwise we might find a stinking camel turning up here next, or another half-starved boy.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Mo took a step towards him. ‘What do you mean? Aren’t you satisfied yet? One of your men has disappeared already. Do you want to be the next?’

  ‘I can live with the risk,’ replied Capricorn, unimpressed. His men leaped to their feet as he rose from his chair and walked slowly down the altar steps. They stood there like schoolboys, although some of them were taller than Capricorn, hands clasped behind their backs as if at any moment he would inspect their fingernails for cleanliness. Meggie couldn’t help remembering what Basta had said – how young he himself had been when he had joined Capricorn – and she wondered whether it was out of fear or admiration that the men bowed their heads.

  Capricorn had stopped beside one of the bulging moneybags. ‘Oh, I have a great many plans for you, Silvertongue, believe me,’ he said, putting his hand into the sack and running the coins through his fingers. ‘Today was just a test. After all, I had to convince myself of your talents with my own eyes and ears, right? I can certainly use all this gold, but tomorrow you’re going to read something else out of a book for me.’

  He strolled over to the boxes which had contained the books that were now burnt to ashes, and reached into one. ‘Surprise!’ he announced, smiling as he held up a single book. It didn’t look at all like the copy Meggie and Elinor had brought him. It still had a brightly coloured paper dust-jacket with a picture that Meggie couldn’t make out from a distance. ‘Oh yes, I still have one!’ remarked Capricorn, scanning the uncomprehending faces with pleasure. ‘My own personal copy, you might say, and tomorrow, Silvertongue, you’re going to read to me from it. As I was saying, I like this world of yours very much indeed, but there’s a friend from the old days that I miss. I never let your substitute try his skill with my friend – I was afraid he might fetch him here without a head, or with only one leg. But now I have you, and you’re a master of your art.’

  Mo was staring incredulously at the book in Capricorn’s hand as if he expected it to dissolve into thin air at any moment.

  ‘Have a rest, Silvertongue,’ said Capricorn. ‘Spare your precious voice. You’ll have plenty of time for that, because I have to go away, and I won’t be back till noon tomorrow. Take these three back to their quarters,’ he told his men. ‘Give them enough to eat, and some blankets for the night. Oh yes, and get Mortola to bring him tea. That kind of thing works wonders on a hoarse, tired voice. Didn’t you always swear by tea sweetened with honey, Darius?’ He turned enquiringly to his old reader, who simply nodded, and looked sympathetically at Mo.

  ‘Back to our quarters? Do you mean that hole where your man with the knife put us last night?’ Elinor’s cheeks were flushed red, whether in horror or indignation Meggie couldn’t guess. ‘This is wrongful detention! No, worse – abduction! That’s it, abduction. Are you aware how many years in jail you’d get for it?’

  ‘Abduction!’ Basta savoured the word. ‘Sounds good to me. Really good.’

  Capricorn gave him a smile. Then he looked Elinor up and down as if he were seeing her for the first time. ‘Basta,’ he said. ‘Is this lady any use to us?’

  ‘Not that I know of,’ replied Basta, smiling like a child who has just been given permission to smash a toy. Elinor went pale, and tried to step backwards, but Cockerell barred her way and held her firmly.

  ‘What do we generally do with useless things, Basta?’ asked Capricorn quietly.

  Basta went on smiling.

  ‘Stop that!’ Mo said angrily to Capricorn. ‘Stop frightening her at once, or I’m not reading you another word.’

  With every appearance of indifference, Capricorn turned his back to him. And Basta kept smiling.

  Meggie saw Elinor press a hand to her trembling lips, and quickly went over to stand beside her. ‘She’s not useless. She knows more about books than anyone else in the world!’ she said, holding Elinor’s other hand very tight.

  Capricorn turned round. The look in his eyes made Meggie shudder, as if someone were running cold fingers down her spine. His eyelashes were pale as cobwebs.

  ‘Elinor definitely knows more stories with treasure in them than that spineless reader of yours!’ Meggie stammered. ‘Definitely!’

  Elinor squeezed Meggie’s fingers hard. Her own hand was damp with sweat. ‘Yes. Absolutely, that’s true,’ she said huskily. ‘I’m sure I can think of several more.’

  ‘Well, well,’ was all Capricorn said, his curved lips tracing a smile. ‘We’ll see.’ Then he gave his men a signal, and they made Elinor, Meggie and Mo file past the tables, past Capricorn’s statue and the red columns, and out through the heavy door that groaned as they pushed it open.

  Outside, beyond the shadow of the church on the village square, the sun shone down from a cloudless blue sky, and the air was filled with scents of summer. It was as if nothing unusual had happened.

  19

  Gloomy Prospects

  The python dropped his head lightly for a moment on Mowgli’s shoulders. ‘A brave heart and a courteous tongue,’ said he. ‘They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling. But now go hence quickly with thy friends. Go and sleep, for the moon sets, and what follows it is not well that thou shouldst see.’

  Rudyard Kipling,

  The Jungle Book

  They did indeed get enough to eat. Around noon a woman brought them bread and olives, and towards evening there was pasta smelling of fresh rosemary. But the food couldn’t cut short the endless hours, any more than full stomachs dispelled their fear of what the next day might bring. Perhaps not even a book would have done it, but there was no point thinking of that, since they had no books, only the blank walls and the locked door. At least a new light bulb was hanging from the ceiling, so they didn’t have to sit in the dark the whole time. Meggie kept looking at the crack under the door to see if night was falling yet. She imagined lizards sitting outside in the sun. She’d seen some in the square outside the church. Had the emerald-green lizard that scurried out of the heaps of coins found its way outside? And what had happened to the boy? Meggie saw his frightened expression whenever she closed her eyes.

  She wondered whether the same thoughts were going through Mo’s head. He had hardly said a word since they were locked up again, but had flopped down on the pile of straw and turned his face to the wall. Elinor was no more talkative. ‘How generous!’ was all she had muttered when Cockerell had bolted the door after them. ‘Our host has graciously provided two more heaps of mouldy straw.’ Then she had sat down in a corner, legs outstretched, and begun staring gloomi
ly at her knees, then at the grubby wall.

  ‘Mo,’ asked Meggie at last, when she could no longer stand the silence, ‘what do you think they’re doing to the boy? And what kind of a friend are you supposed to read out of the book for Capricorn?’

  ‘I don’t know, Meggie,’ was all he replied, without turning round.

  So she left him alone, made herself a bed of straw beside his, then paced up and down between the bare walls. Perhaps the strange boy was the other side of one of them? She put her ear to the wall. Not a sound came through. Someone had scratched a name in the plaster: Ricardo Bentone, 19.5.96. Meggie ran her finger over the letters. A little further on there was another name, and then another. Meggie wondered what had become of them, Ricardo, Ugo and Bernardo. Perhaps I ought to scratch my name here too, she thought, just in case … but she was careful not to think her way to the end of that sentence.

  Behind her, Elinor lay down on her straw bed, sighing. When Meggie turned to her, she forced a smile. ‘What wouldn’t I give for a comb!’ she said, pushing the hair back from her forehead. ‘I’d never have thought that in a situation like this I’d miss a comb so much, of all things, but I do. Heavens, I don’t even have a hairpin left. I must look like a witch, or a washing-up brush that’s seen better days.’

  ‘No, really, you look fine. Your hairpins were always falling out anyway,’ said Meggie. ‘Actually, I think you look younger.’

  ‘Younger? Hmm. Well, if you say so.’ Elinor glanced down at herself. Her mouse-grey sweater was filthy, and there were three ladders in her tights. ‘Meggie, it was very kind of you to help me back there in the church,’ she said, pulling her skirt down over her knees. My knees were like jelly, I was so scared. I don’t know what’s come over me. I feel like someone else, as if the old Elinor has driven home and left me here by myself.’ Her lips began to tremble, and Meggie thought she was going to cry, but next moment the familiar Elinor was back again. ‘Well, there we are!’ she said. ‘It’s only in an emergency that you find out what you’re truly made of. Personally, I always thought if I was a wooden statue I’d be carved out of oak, but it seems I’m more like pearwood or something else very soft. It only takes a villain like that to play with his knife in front of my nose and the wood shavings start flaking away.’

  And now the tears did come, hard as Elinor tried to keep them back. Angrily, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

  ‘I think you’re doing splendidly, Elinor.’ Mo was still lying with his face to the wall. ‘You’re both doing splendidly. And I could wring my own neck for dragging you two into all this.’

  ‘Nonsense. If anyone around here needs his neck wrung it’s Capricorn,’ said Elinor. ‘And that man Basta. My God, I’d never have thought the idea of strangling another human being would give me such enormous satisfaction. But I’m sure if I could just get my hands round that Basta’s neck, I—’

  On seeing the shock in Meggie’s eyes she fell guiltily silent, but Meggie just shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘I feel the same,’ she murmured, and began scratching an ‘M’ on the wall with the key of her bicycle lock. Weird to think she still had that key in her trouser pocket – like a souvenir of another life.

  Elinor ran her finger down one of the ladders in her tights, and Mo turned on his back and stared up at the ceiling. ‘I’m so sorry, Meggie,’ he said suddenly. ‘I’m so sorry I let them take the book away from me.’

  Meggie scratched an ‘E’ in the wall. ‘It doesn’t make any difference,’ she said, stepping back. The Gs in her name looked like nibbled Os. ‘You probably couldn’t have read her back out of it again anyway.’

  ‘No, probably not,’ murmured Mo, and went on staring at the ceiling.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ said Meggie. She wanted to add: the main thing is you’re with me. The main thing is for Basta never to put his knife to your throat again. I mean, I hardly remember my mother. I only know her from a couple of photographs. But Meggie said none of that, for she knew it wouldn’t comfort Mo, it would probably just make him sadder than ever. For the first time, Meggie had some idea of how much he missed her mother. And for one crazy moment she felt jealous.

  She scratched an ‘I’ in the plaster – that was an easy letter – then she lowered the key.

  Footsteps were approaching outside. Elinor put her hand to her mouth when they stopped.

  Basta pushed open the door, and there was someone behind him. Meggie recognised the old woman she had seen in Capricorn’s house. With a dour expression on her face, she pushed past Basta and put a mug and a thermos jug on the floor. ‘As if I didn’t have enough to do!’ she muttered, before going out again. ‘So now we have to feed up our fine guests too! They might at least be put to work if you have to keep them here.’

  ‘Tell that to Capricorn,’ was all Basta replied. Then he drew his knife, smiled at Elinor, and wiped the blade on his jacket. It was getting dark outside, and his snow-white shirt shone in the gathering twilight.

  ‘Enjoy your tea, Silvertongue,’ he said, relishing the discomfort on Elinor’s face. ‘Mortola’s put so much honey in the jug your mouth will probably stick up with the first sip you take, but your throat will be as good as new tomorrow.’

  ‘What have you done with the boy?’ asked Mo.

  ‘Oh, I think he’s next door to you. Capricorn hasn’t decided what’s to become of him yet. Cockerell will try him out with a little ordeal by fire tomorrow, then we’ll know if he’s any use to us.’

  Mo sat up. ‘Ordeal by fire?’ he asked, his voice both bitter and mocking. ‘Well, you can’t have passed that one yourself. You’re even afraid of Dustfinger’s matches.’

  ‘Watch your tongue!’ Basta hissed at him. ‘One more word and I’ll cut it out, however precious it may be.’

  ‘Oh no, you won’t,’ said Mo, standing up. He took his time over filling the mug with steaming tea.

  ‘Maybe not.’ Basta lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard. ‘But your little daughter has a tongue too, and hers isn’t as valuable as yours.’

  Mo flung the mug of hot tea at him, but Basta closed the door so quickly that the mug smashed into the wood. ‘Sweet dreams!’ he called from outside as he shot the bolts. ‘See you in the morning.’

  None of them said a word when he was gone, not for a long, long time. ‘Mo, tell me a story,’ Meggie whispered at last.

  ‘What story do you want to hear?’ he asked, putting his arm round her shoulders.

  ‘Tell me the one about us being in Egypt,’ she whispered, ‘and we’re looking for treasure and surviving sandstorms and scorpions and all the scary ghosts rising from their tombs to watch over their precious grave goods.’

  ‘Oh, that story,’ said Mo. ‘Didn’t I make it up for your eighth birthday? It’s rather a gloomy tale, as far as I remember.’

  ‘Yes, very!’ said Meggie. ‘But it has a happy ending. Everything turns out all right, and we come home laden with treasure.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind hearing that one myself,’ said Elinor, her voice unsteady. She was probably still thinking of Basta’s knife.

  So Mo began to tell his story, without the rustle of pages, without the endless labyrinth of letters.

  ‘Mo, nothing ever came out of a story you were just telling, did it?’ asked Meggie at one point, suddenly feeling anxious.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘For that to happen, it seems that printer’s ink is necessary and someone else needs to have made up the story.’ Then he continued, and Meggie and Elinor listened until his voice had carried them far, far away. Finally, they went to sleep.

  A sound woke them all. Someone was fiddling with the lock of the door. Meggie thought she heard a muffled curse.

  ‘Oh no!’ breathed Elinor. She was the first on her feet. ‘They’re coming to take me away! That old woman’s persuaded them! Why feed us up? You, maybe,’ she said, looking frantically at Mo, ‘but why me?’

  ‘Go over to the wall, Elinor,’ said Mo as he moved Meggie be
hind him. ‘Both of you keep well back from the door.’

  The lock sprang open with a muffled little click, and the door was pushed just far enough open for someone to squeeze through it. Dustfinger. He cast a last anxious glance outside, then pulled the door shut behind him and leaned against it.

  ‘So I hear you’ve done it again, Silvertongue!’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘They say the poor boy still hasn’t uttered a sound. I don’t blame him. I can tell you, it’s a horrible feeling suddenly landing in someone else’s story.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ snapped Elinor. But the sight of Dustfinger had actually filled her with relief.

  ‘Leave him alone, Elinor,’ said Mo, moving her aside and going over to Dustfinger. ‘How are your hands?’ he asked.

  Dustfinger shrugged. ‘They put cold water on them in the kitchen, but the skin’s still almost as red as the flames that licked at it.’

  ‘Ask him what he wants!’ hissed Elinor. ‘And if he’s just come to tell us he can’t do anything about the mess we’re in, then you might as well wring his lying neck!’

  By way of answer, Dustfinger tossed her a bunch of keys. ‘Why do you think I’m here?’ he grumbled back, switching off the light. ‘Stealing the car keys from Basta wasn’t easy, and a word of thanks might not be out of place, but we can think about that later. We don’t want to hang about any longer – let’s get out of here.’ Cautiously, he opened the door and listened. ‘There’s a sentry posted up on the church tower,’ he whispered, ‘but the guards are keeping watch on the hills, not the village. The dogs are in their kennels, and even if we do have to deal with them, luckily they like me better than Basta.’

  ‘Why should we suddenly trust him?’ whispered Elinor to Mo. ‘Suppose there’s some other devilry behind this?’

  ‘I want you to take me with you. That’s my only motive!’ snapped Dustfinger. ‘There’s nothing here for me any more. Capricorn’s let me down. He’s sent the only scrap of hope I still had up in smoke! He thinks he can do what he likes with me. Dustfinger’s only a dog you can kick without fearing he may bite back, but he’s wrong there. He burned the book, so I’m taking away the reader I brought him. And as for you,’ he said, jabbing his burnt finger into Elinor’s chest, ‘you can come because you have a car. No one gets out of this village on foot, not even Capricorn’s men, not with the snakes that infest these hills. But I can’t drive, and so …’

  ‘I knew it!’ Elinor almost forgot to keep her voice down. ‘He just wants to save his own skin. That’s why he’s helping us! He doesn’t have a guilty conscience, oh no. Why should he?’

  ‘I don’t care why he’s helping us, Elinor,’ Mo interrupted her impatiently. ‘We have to get away from here, that’s what matters. But we’re going to take someone else with us too.’

  ‘Someone else? Who?’ Dustfinger looked at him uneasily.

  ‘The boy. The one I condemned yesterday to the same fate as you,’ replied Mo, making his way past Dustfinger and out of the door. ‘Basta said he’s next door to us, and a lock is no obstacle to your clever fingers.’