Cornelia Funke - Inkspell

Is this death? Mo wondered. This void, full of faint shadows? Sometimes he thought he felt the fingers of the pale women reaching into his agonized breast as if to crush his heart. Their breath wafted over his hot face, and they were whispering a name, but it was not the name he remembered as his own. Bluejay, they whispered.

Their voices seemed to be made of cold yearning, nothing but cold yearning. It's easy, they whispered, you don't even have to open your eyes. No more pain, no darkness. Stand up, they whispered, it's time to go, and they entwined their white fingers with his. Their fingers were wonderfully cool on his burning skin.

But the other voice wouldn't let him go. Indistinct, barely audible, as if it came from far, far away, it penetrated the whispering. It sounded strange, almost discordant among the whispering shadows. Be quiet, he wanted to tell it with his tongue of stone. Be quiet, please, let me go! For nothing but that voice kept him imprisoned in the burning house that was his body. But the voice went on.

He knew it, but where from? He couldn't remember. It was long ago that he had last heard it, too long ago…

I ought to have furnished my cellar more comfortably, thought Elinor, watching Darius pump up the air mattress he had found behind one of the storage shelves for her. But how could she have guessed that some dreadful day she'd have to sleep down here, while a bespectacled, moon-faced man sat up in her wonderful library with his slobbering dog, playing master of the house? The wretched animal had almost eaten the fairy who had slipped out of Orpheus's words. A blue fairy and a lark fluttering in panic against the windowpanes, that was all that had come out of the book – to replace four people! "Look at that!" Orpheus had triumphantly announced. "Two for four! There are fewer and fewer coming out, and one day I'll manage not to let anything out of a book at all." Conceited pig! As if anyone was interested in who or what came out of the book, when Resa and Mortimer had gone! And Mortola and Basta…

Quick, Elinor, think of something else!

If only she could have hoped that someone useful would soon come knocking on her front door! But unfortunately, such a visitor was highly improbable. She had never had much to do with her neighbors, certainly not since Darius had taken over the care of her books and Mo, Resa, and Meggie had moved in. What more did she need in the way of company?

Her nose began to prickle ominously. That's the wrong way to think, Elinor, she warned herself – as if she'd been able to think of anything else these last few hours. They're all right! she kept telling herself. You'd have sensed it if anything had happened to them. Wasn't that what all the stories said? You felt it, like a pang in your heart, when something happened to someone you loved?

Darius smiled hesitantly at her as his foot went tirelessly up and down on the pump. The air mattress already looked like a caterpillar, a huge, squashed caterpillar. How was she supposed to sleep on that thing? She'd roll off and land on the cold cement floor.

"Darius!" she said. "We must do something! We can't simply let them shut us up here while Mortola…"

Oh God, how that old witch had looked at Mortimer. Don't think about it, Elinor! Just don't think about it! Or about Basta and his rifle. Or Meggie wandering through the Wayless Wood all alone. I'm sure she's alone! A giant will have stepped on that boy and crushed him by now… It was a good thing Darius didn't know the silly way her thoughts were getting all mixed up, making the tears start to come all the time…

"Darius!" Elinor whispered, for the man built like a wardrobe would certainly be on guard outside the door, "Darius, it's all up to you! You must read them back!"

Darius shook his head so vigorously that his glasses almost slipped off his nose. "No!" His voice was trembling like a leaf in the wind, and his foot began pumping again as if that stupid mattress were the most important thing in the world. Then, very suddenly, he stopped and hid his face in his hands. "You know what will happen!" Elinor heard him say in a stifled voice. "You know what will happen to them if I read while I'm afraid."

Elinor sighed.

Yes, she knew. Distorted faces, stiff legs, a lost voice… and of course he was afraid. Probably even more afraid than she was, for Darius had known Mortola and Basta considerably longer…

"Yes. Yes, I know. All right," she murmured and began abstractedly straightening a few cans on the shelves – tomato sauce, ravioli (not a particularly nice brand), red kidney beans – Mortimer loved red kidney beans. There it came again, that prickling in her nose.

"Very well!" she said, turning around resolutely. "Then that Orpheus will have to do it." How composed and sure of herself she sounded! She was obviously a gifted actress, thought Elinor; she'd realized that before, back in Capricorn's church when all had seemed lost… indeed, now that she came to think of it, everything had seemed gloomier then, if anything.

Darius stared at her, bewildered.

"Don't look at me like that, for God's sake!" she hissed. "I don't know how we can make him do it, either. Not yet."

She began pacing up and down, up and down, between the shelves full of cans and preserving jars.

"He's vain, Darius!" she whispered. "Very vain. Did you see how he changed color when he realized that Meggie had done something he's tried and failed to do for years? I'm sure he'd like to ask her -" She stopped suddenly and looked at Darius.

"- how she managed it." Darius stopped pumping.

"Yes! But Meggie would have to be here herself to tell him that." They looked at each other.

"That's how we'll do it, Darius!" Elinor whispered. "We'll get Orpheus to bring Meggie back, and then she can read Mortimer and Resa back, too, with the same words he used for her! That ought to work!" She began pacing up and down again like the caged panther in the poem she liked so much… except that the look in her eyes was no longer hopeless. She must lay her plans well. That man Orpheus was clever. And so are you, Elinor, she told herself. Just try it!

She couldn't help it, she started thinking of the way Mortola had looked at Mortimer again. Suppose it was much too late by the time she…?

Oh, stop it!

Elinor thrust out her chin, pulled back her shoulders – and marched firmly toward the cellar door. She hammered on the white-painted metal with the flat of her hand. "Hey!" she called. "Hey, you, wardrobe-man! Open this door! I have to speak to that man Orpheus! At once."

But nothing stirred on the other side of the door – and Elinor let her hand drop again. For a moment she entertained the dreadful thought that the two men had gone and left them alone down here, locked in… and without so much as a can opener, thought Elinor. What a ridiculous way to die. Starving among piles of canned food. She was just raising both hands to hammer on the door again when she heard footsteps outside. Footsteps going away, up the stairs leading from the cellar to the entrance hall.

"Hey!" she shouted, so loudly that Darius, standing behind her, jumped. "Hey, come back, you hulking great wardrobe! Open this door! I want to talk to Orpheus!"

But all was quiet on the other side of the door. Elinor fell to her knees in front of it. She felt Darius come up beside her and put a hand hesitantly on her shoulder. "He'll be back," he said quietly. "At least they're still here, aren't they?" Then he returned to the air mattress.

But Elinor sat there, her back against the cold cellar door, listening to the silence. You couldn't even hear the birds down here, not the smallest chirp of a cricket. Meggie will fetch them back, she thought. Meggie will fetch them back! But suppose by now her mother and father are both…