Cornelia Funke - Inkheart

The Magpie turned to Basta. "What was the idea of that?" she asked angrily. "Do you think the child will read better if you break her silly heart? Tell her you missed him and get on with it."

Basta lowered his head like a boy caught doing wrong by his mother. "I did tell her, well… almost," he growled. "Cockerell's a terrible shot. Your father didn't suffer so much as a scratch."

Meggie closed her eyes with relief. She felt warm and wonderful. Everything was all right, or at least what wasn't all right soon would be.

Happiness made her bold. "There's something else, " she said. Why should she be afraid? They needed her. She was the only one who could read their wretched Shadow out of the book for them; no one else could do it – except Mo, and they hadn't caught him yet. They would never catch him now, ever.

"What is it?" The Magpie smoothed her sternly pinned-up hair. What had she looked like when she was Meggie's age? Had her lips been so mean even then?

"I will read only if I can see Dustfinger again. Before he…" She did not end the sentence.

"What for?"

Because I want to tell him we're going to try to save him and because I think my mother is with him, thought Meggie, but naturally she did not say so out loud. "I want to tell him I'm sorry, " she replied instead. "After all, he helped us."

Mortola's mouth twisted mockingly. "How touching!" she said.

I only want to see her once, close-up, thought Meggie. Perhaps it isn't her after all. Perhaps…

"Suppose I say no?" The Magpie was watching her like a cat playing with a young and inexperienced mouse.

But Meggie had been expecting that question. "Then I will bite my tongue!" she said. "I will bite it so hard that it swells right up and I won't be able to read aloud this evening."

The Magpie leaned back in her chair and laughed. "Hear that, Basta? The child is no fool!" Basta only grunted. But Mortola studied Meggie, almost benevolently. "I'll tell you something: Yes, you can have your silly little wish. But about this evening: Before you read, I want you to have a good look at my photographs."

Meggie glanced around.

"Look at them closely. Do you see all those faces? Every one of those people made an enemy of Capricorn, and none of them was ever heard from again. The houses you see in the photographs are no longer standing either, not one of them, they have all been burned down. Think of those photos when you're reading, little witch. Should you stumble over the words, or get any silly notions about simply holding your tongue, then your face will soon be looking out of one of these pretty gold frames, too. But if you do well we'll let you go back to your father. Why not? Read like an angel tonight, and you'll see him again! I've been told that his voice clothes every word in silk and satin, turns it into flesh and blood. And that's how you are to read aloud, not uncertainly and stammering like that fool Darius. Do you understand?"

Meggie looked at her. "I understand!" she said quietly, although she knew for certain that the Magpie was lying.

They would never let her go back to Mo. He would have to come and get her.

Basta was grumbling to himself nonstop as he escorted Meggie over to the church. "Bite her tongue, would she? Since when has the old woman fallen for that kind of thing? And who has to take this little madam to the crypt? Basta, of course! What am I supposed to be – the only male maidservant in the place?"

"Crypt?" Meggie had thought the prisoners were still in the nets, but she could see no trace of them when she and Basta entered the church, and Basta had impatiently pushed her past the columns.

"Yes, the crypt, " he spat. "Where we put the dead and those who soon will be. Down here. Get on with it. I've got better things to do today than baby-sit Miss Silvertongue."

The stairs to which he was pointing were steep and led down into darkness. The treads were worn and so uneven that Meggie stumbled at every other step. Down below it was so dark that at first she didn't realize the staircase had come to an end, and she was feeling for the next step with her foot when Basta pushed her roughly forward. "What's the idea now?" she heard him say with a curse. "Why's the damn lantern out again?" A match flared, and Basta's face appeared out of the darkness.

"Visitor for you, Dustfinger, " he announced derisively as he lit the lantern. "Silvertongue's little girl wants to say good bye. Her father brought you into this world and his daughter will make sure you leave it again tonight. I wouldn't have let her come, but the Magpie's going soft in her old age. The child actually seems fond of you. It can hardly be your pretty face, can it?" Basta's laugh echoed unpleasantly back from the damp walls.

Meggie went up to the grating behind which Dustfinger stood. She looked at him only briefly, then gazed over his shoulder. Capricorn's maid was sitting on a stone coffin. The lantern Basta had lit gave only a dim light, but it was enough for Meggie to recognize her face. It was the face from Mo's photograph, except that the hair surrounding it was darker now, and there was no sign of any smile.

As Meggie came closer to the grating her mother lifted her head and was now looking at her as if nothing else in the world existed.

"Mortola let her come here?" said Dustfinger. "That's hard to believe. "

"The girl threatened to bite her own tongue. " Basta was still standing on the stairs, playing with the rabbit's foot he wore around his neck as a lucky charm.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry. " Meggie was speaking to Dustfinger, but as she spoke she looked at her mother, who was still sitting on the stone coffin.

"What for?" Dustfinger smiled his strange smile.

"For what I must do this evening. For reading aloud from the book. " If only she could have let the two of them know Fenoglio's plan.

"Right, now you've said your piece!" barked Basta impatiently. "Come on, the air down here could make your voice hoarse. "

But Meggie did not turn. She clung to the bars of the grating as firmly as she could. "No, " she said, "I want to stay a bit longer. " Perhaps she could think of some way to tell them, some apparently innocent remark. "I read something else out of a story, " she told Dustfinger. "A tin soldier. "

"Did you, though?" Dustfinger was smiling again. It was odd, but this time his smile seemed to her neither mysterious nor supercilious. "Well, nothing can go wrong this evening, then, can it?"

He was looking at her thoughtfully, and Meggie tried to tell him with her eyes: We're going to rescue you. It won't work out the way Capricorn expects, believe me! Dustfinger was still looking at her, trying to understand. He raised his eye brows inquiringly and then turned to Basta.

"And how's that fairy, Basta?" he asked. "Still alive, is she, or has your company done her in?"

Meggie saw her mother get up and come toward her, walking tentatively, as if she were treading on broken glass.

"She's still alive, " said Basta sullenly. "Tinkling all the time. I can't get a wink of sleep. If she carries on like that I'm going to tell Flatnose to wring her neck, the way he does the pigeons when they poo on his car. " Meggie saw her mother take a piece of paper from the pocket of her dress and surreptitiously press it into Dustfinger's hand.