Cornelia Funke - Inkspell

Firefox looked around as if searching for a face that might offer help, but no one stepped forward, not even Mortola. She stood there with her lips compressed so tightly that they were almost white, and if her glance could have killed as her poisons often did, the book would not have helped the Adderhead. As it was, however, he just smiled at her and put the pen in his herald's hand. Firefox stared at the sharpened quill as if he were not sure what to do with it. Then he dipped it ceremoniously in the ink – and wrote.

"Excellent!" The Piper took the book from his hand the moment he had finished. The Adderhead waved to one of the servants waiting with dishes full of fruit and cakes at the foot of the silver columns. "Well, what are you waiting for, Firefox? Try your luck!" Honey dripped from his fingers as he pushed one of the cakes between his lips.

Firefox, however, stood there, still staring at the Piper, whose long arms were wound around the book as if he were holding a baby. He responded to Firefox's glance with a nasty smile. Firefox abruptly turned his back to him and the Adderhead and came down the steps.

Mo removed Meggie's hand from his arm and pushed her gently aside, although she resisted. The men-at-arms standing around retreated, with incredulity on their faces, as if clearing a stage. Except for the one who had drawn his sword and now held it out to Mo. Was this still Fenoglio's game? It would be like him. When Mo had entered the hall just now he'd have given one of his eyes for a sword, but he didn't want this one. He wanted it as little as the roles some other people wanted him to play, whether Fenoglio or the Adderhead. He had always hated games like this, games played by the strong with someone weaker, the cat with the helpless mouse… He hated them, even when the mouse was a murderer and fire-raiser.

When Firefox stopped at the foot of the steps, hesitating as if he were wondering whether there might not be some way out for him after all, one of the men-at-arms went up to him and took his sword from its sheath.

"Here, Bluejay, take it." The soldier who was holding his sword out to Mo was getting impatient, and Mo remembered the night when he had picked up Basta's sword and chased him and Capricorn out of his house. He still remembered just how heavy the weapon had felt in his hand, how the bright blade caught the light…

"No, thank you," Mo said, stepping back. "Swords are not among the tools of my trade. I thought I'd proved that with the book."

The Adderhead wiped the honey off his fingers, removed a few cake crumbs from his lips, and looked him up and down. "Oh, come on, Bluejay!" he said in a tone of mild surprise. "You heard. We don't expect any great skill in swordplay. All you have to do is run it through his body. It really isn't difficult!"

Firefox was staring at Mo. His eyes were clouded with hatred. Look at him, you fool, Mo told himself. He'd run you through with that sword on the spot, so why don't you do it to him? Meggie understood why not. He saw it in her eyes. Perhaps the Bluejay might take that sword, but not her father.

"Forget it, Adder," he said out loud. "If you have an account to settle with your bloodhound, see to it yourself. Ours is a different agreement."

The Adderhead looked at him with as much interest as if some exotic animal had wandered into his hall. Then he laughed. "I like your answer!" he cried. "Indeed I do. And do you know something? It finally shows me I've caught the right man. You are the Bluejay, without any doubt. He's said to be a sly fox. But all the same I'll keep my bargain."

And so saying, he nodded to the man-at-arms who was still offering Mo the sword. Without hesitation, the man turned and thrust the long blade through the body of his master's herald, so fast that Firefox did not even manage to flinch back.

Meggie screamed. Mo drew her close and hid her face against his chest. But Firefox stood there, staring in bewilderment at the sword sticking out of his body as if it were a part of him.

With a self-satisfied smile, the Adderhead looked around, enjoying the silent horror in the hall around him. Firefox took the sword sticking out of his body and pulled out the blade very slowly, his face distorted, but without swaying on his feet. And the great hall became as still as if all present had stopped breathing.

As for the Adderhead, he applauded. "Well, look at that!" he cried. "Is there anyone here in this hall who thinks he could have survived that sword stroke? He's just a little pale, that's all – am I right, Firefox?"

His herald did not reply, but just stood there staring at the bloodstained sword in his hands.

But the Adderhead went on, in a voice of high good humor, "Well, I think that proves it! The girl wasn't lying, and the Adderhead is not a gullible fool who fell for a child's fairy tale, is he?"

He placed his words as carefully as a beast of prey places its paws. Nothing but silence answered him. Even Firefox, his face white with pain, said not a word as he wiped his own blood from the sword blade.

"Excellent!" remarked the Adderhead. "That's done, then – and now I have an immortal herald. It's time I was able to say the same of myself. Piper," he said, turning to the man with the silver nose. "Empty the hall for me. Get everyone out – servants, women, physicians, clerks, all of them. I want just ten men-at-arms to stay, the librarian, you and Firefox, and the two prisoners. You go away, too!" he snapped at Mortola, who was about to protest. "Stay with my wife and get that baby to stop crying at last."

"What's he going to do, Mo?" whispered Meggie as the hall emptied around them. But he could only shake his head. He didn't know, either. He only felt that the game was far from over yet.

"What about us?" he called to the Adderhead. "My daughter and I have fulfilled our part of the bargain, so fetch the prisoners from your dungeons and let us go."

But the Adderhead only raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Yes, of course, of course, Bluejay," he graciously replied. "As you have kept your word, I keep mine. The Adder's word of honor. I've already sent men down to the dungeons, but it's a long way from there to the gate, so give us the pleasure of your company a little longer. Believe me, we shall provide you with entertainment."

A game. Mo looked around and saw the huge doors close behind the last servants. Once empty, the hall only seemed larger.

"Well, how are you doing, Firefox?" The Adderhead ran a cool eye over his herald. "What does it feel like to be immortal? Fabulous? Reassuring?"

Firefox said nothing. He was still holding the sword that had run him through. "I'd like my own sword back," he said hoarsely, without taking his eyes off his master. "This one is no good."

"Nonsense. I'll have a new sword forged for you, a better one, in gratitude for the service you've done me today!" replied the Adderhead. "But first we have one small thing to do so that we can remove your name from my book without any damage."

"Remove it?" Firefox's eyes wandered to the Piper, who opened the book again and held it out to the librarian.

"Remove it, yes. You remember that originally the book was to make me immortal, not you, and for that to happen the scribe must write three more words in it."

"What for?" Firefox wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

Three words. Poor devil. Did he hear the trap snapping shut? Meggie reached for Mo's hand.

"To make room, one might say. To make room for me," replied the Adderhead. "And do you know what?" he went on, as Firefox looked at him uncomprehendingly. "As a reward for your unselfish proof of how reliably this book really does protect one from death, as soon as the scribe has written those three words you may kill the Bluejay. If he can be killed, that is. Well, is it a fair offer?"