Cornelia Funke - Inkheart

The boy looked at him with an injured expression, as if Dustfinger had taken his hand and thrust it into the fire. "But they're tied up!" he protested. "So what is there to watch? No one's ever managed to undo my knots. Word of honor. Please. I want to go with you! I can be your lookout or distract the guards. I can even get into Capricorn's house! I'm quieter than Gwin!"

But Dustfinger shook his head. "No, " he said firmly. "Tonight, I'm going alone. If I want someone following me wherever I go I'll get myself a dog. " And with that he left the boy.

It was a hot day. The sky above the hills was blue and cloudless, and there were hours yet to pass before darkness fell.

Two narrow metal bunks, one above the other against a whitewashed wall, a cupboard, a table by the window, a chair, an empty shelf with nothing but a candle on it. Meggie had hoped to be able to see the road or at least the parking area through the window, but the only view was of the yard below. A couple of Capricorn's maids were bending over the vegetable patch pulling out weeds, and chickens were pecking around in a wire-netting run in one corner. The walls surrounding the kitchen garden were high enough for a prison.

Fenoglio was sitting on the lower bed, staring gloomily at the dusty floor. The wooden floorboards creaked whenever they stepped on them. Outside the door, Flatnose was protesting to Basta.

"You want me to do what? No, find someone else for the job, damn it! I'd rather go over to the next village, put gas-soaked rags outside someone's door or hang a dead rooster from the window frame. Or run around outside the house with a devil mask on, like Cockerell had to do last month, but I'm not cooling my heels here just to keep watch on an old man and a little girl! Get one of the lads. They'll be glad to have a change from cleaning cars. "

But Basta wasn't open to persuasion. "You'll be relieved after supper, " he said. Then he was gone. Meggie heard his footsteps retreating down the long corridor. There were five doors to pass, then go down the staircase, at the foot of the stairs turn left for the front door… She had carefully taken note of the way. But how was she to get past Flatnose? She went over to the window again and opened it. Just looking out made her feel dizzy. No, she couldn't climb down. She'd break her neck.

"Leave the window open, " said Fenoglio behind her. "It's so hot in here I feel as if I might melt."

Meggie sat down on the bed beside him. "I'm going to run away, " she whispered. "As soon as it gets dark."

The old man looked at her incredulously, shaking his head very firmly. "Are you mad? It's much too dangerous!"

Out in the corridor, Flatnose was still muttering angrily to himself.

"I'll say I have to go to the toilet. " Meggie was clutching her backpack. "Then I'll just run off."

Fenoglio took her by the shoulders. "No!" he whispered emphatically. "No, you won't! We'll think of something. Thinking up ideas is my job, remember?"

Meggie tightened her lips. "Yes, all right, " she murmured, getting up to go back to the window. Dusk was already falling outside. I'm going to try, all the same, she thought as Fenoglio stretched out with a sigh on the narrow bed behind her. I'm not going to just sit here as bait! I'll run away before they catch Mo, too.

And for the hundredth time, as she waited for darkness she tried to push away the question that kept coming into her head: Where was Mo? Why hadn't he come?

It was still hot when the sun had gone down. There was not a breath of wind in the darkness, and the glowworms were dancing above the dry grass as Dustfinger crept back to Capricorn's village.

Two guards were strolling around the parking area, and neither of them was wearing headphones, so Dustfinger took a different route to Capricorn's house this time. The streets at the far end of the village had been so utterly destroyed by the earthquake which drove out the last villagers that Capricorn had not had them rebuilt. These streets were still blocked by the rubble of ruined walls, and it wasn't very safe to walk there. Even after so many years, loose stones might fall. So Capricorn's men avoided that part of the village, where dirty dishes left by its long-gone inhabitants still stood on many tables behind dilapidated front doors. There were no floodlights here, and even the guards seldom came this way.

Tumbled heaps of broken tiles and stones stood more than knee high in the street that Dustfinger chose. They slipped beneath his feet as he clambered over them, and when he listened to the nocturnal sounds again, afraid the noise might have attracted someone's attention, he saw a guard appear among the ruined houses. His mouth was dry with terror as he ducked behind the nearest wall. Swallows' nests clung to it, one above another. The guard was humming as he came closer. Dustfinger knew him; he had been with Capricorn for many years. Basta had recruited him from a village in another country. For Capricorn had not always lived among these hills. There had been other places, remote villages like this one, houses, abandoned farms, even a fortified castle once. But a day had always come when the web of fear, so expertly spun by Capricorn, tore and the attention of the police was drawn to his men and what they were up to. Eventually the same thing would happen here.

The guard stood still to light a cigarette. Its smoke drifted to Dustfinger's nostrils. Turning his head, he saw a thin white cat perched among the stones. It sat there perfectly still, its green eyes staring at him. "Shhh!" he wanted to whisper. "Do I look dangerous? No, but that man there will shoot, first you, then me. " The green eyes went on staring. The white tail began twitching back and forth. Dustfinger looked at his dusty boots, at a twisted iron bar lying among the stones, anywhere but at the cat. Animals don't like you to look them in the eye. Gwin bared his sharp teeth whenever Dustfinger looked straight at him.

The guard began humming again, the cigarette between his lips. At last, just as Dustfinger was beginning to feel he would be crouching behind this ruined wall for the rest of his life, the guard turned and strolled off. Dustfinger dared not move until the sound of his footsteps had died away. When he straightened up, feeling stiff, the cat raced away, spitting, and he stood there for a long time among the empty houses, waiting for his heartbeat to slow.

No other guard crossed his path, and soon he was vaulting over Capricorn's wall. The scent of thyme greeted him, a heavy scent that usually filled the air only by day. But everything seemed to be aromatic this hot night, even the tomato plants and lettuces. Poisonous plants were growing in the bed just outside the house. These the Magpie tended herself. Many a dead body in the village had smelled of oleander or henbane.

The window of the room where Resa slept was open, as usual. When Dustfinger imitated Gwin's angry chattering a hand waved from the open window, then quickly disappeared. He leaned against the grating over the door and waited. The sky above him was sprinkled with so many stars there hardly seemed to be any space left for the darkness. She's sure to have found out something, he thought, but suppose she tells me Capricorn has locked the book in one of his safes?

The door behind the grating opened. It always squealed, as if complaining of being disturbed at night. Dustfinger turned and looked into a strange girl's face. She was young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old, her cheeks still chubby like a child's.