Cornelia Funke - Inkheart

"Well, how's this, then?" Dustfinger slowly brought the tip of the knife close to Basta's stomach. "Do you feel how soft your flesh is? The human body is a fragile thing, and you can't get a new one. What is it you and your friends do to cats and squirrels? Flatnose likes describing it -"

"I don't hunt squirrels. " Basta's voice cracked. He was trying not to look at the blade, now scarcely a hand's breadth from his snow-white shirt.

"No, so you don't. I remember now. It doesn't amuse you as much as it does the others. "

Basta's face was white. All the furious red had ebbed out of it. Fear is not red. Fear is pale as a dead man's face. "What are you going to do now?" he gasped. He was breathing hard, as if he were drowning. "You don't think you'll get out of this village alive, do you? They'll shoot you down before you're across the square."

"Well, I'd prefer that to a meeting with the Shadow, " replied Dustfinger. "Anyway, none of you are very good shots."

Meggie's mother came up to him and mimed writing with her finger in the air. Dustfinger put his hand in his pants pocket and gave her the note. Basta followed the paper with his eyes as if the strength of his gaze would draw it to him. Resa wrote something on it and handed it back to Dustfinger, who read what she had written, frowning. "Wait until dark? No, I won't wait. But perhaps the girl had better stay here. " He looked at Meggie. "Capricorn won't harm her. After all, she's his new Silvertongue, and sometime her father will try to get her." Dustfinger put the note away again and ran the tip of the knife down Basta's shirt buttons. They clinked as the metal touched them. "You go to the stairs, Resa, " he said. "I'll finish off this business, and then we'll stroll across Capricorn's square and walk away like an innocent pair of lovers. "

Cautiously, Resa opened the cell door. She came out past the grating and took Meggie's hand. Her fingers were cold and rather rough, a stranger's fingers, but her face was familiar, although it had looked younger and less anxious in the photograph.

"Resa! We can't take her with us!" Dustfinger seized Basta's arm and forced him back against the wall. "Her father will murder me if she gets shot out there. Now, turn around and cover her eyes, unless you want her to watch…" The knife was trembling in his hand. Resa looked at him, horrified, and shook her head vigorously, but Dustfinger acted as if he didn't see her.

"You must thrust hard, Dirtyfingers!" hissed Basta as he pressed his hands against the stone behind him. "Killing isn't easy. You have to practice to do it well. "

"Nonsense!" Dustfinger grabbed him by the jacket and held the knife under his chin, the way Basta had pulled his knife on Mo that time in the church. "Any fool can kill. It's easy – as easy as throwing a book on the fire, breaking down a door, or frightening a child."

Meggie began to tremble; she didn't know why. Her mother took a step back toward the grating, but when she saw Dustfinger's stony face she stopped. Then she turned, drew Meggie's face against her breast, put her arms around her, and held her tight. Her smell seemed familiar to Meggie, like something long forgotten; she closed her eyes and tried not to think of anything, not Dustfinger or the knife or Basta's white face. And then, for a terrible moment, there was only one thing in the world she wanted – to see Basta lying dead on the floor, limp as a doll thrown away, an ugly, stupid toy that always seemed a little scary.

The knife was barely a finger's breadth from Basta's white shirt, but suddenly Dustfinger plunged his hand into Basta's pants pocket, took out the keys to the cells, and stepped back. "No, you're right, I don't know much about killing, " he said as he made his way backward out of the cell, "and I'm not about to learn just for you. "

A scornful smile spread over Basta's face, but Dustfinger paid no attention. He locked the barred door, took Resa's arm, and led her to the stairs. " Let go of her!" he begged, when he saw she was still holding Meggie tightly. "Believe me, nothing will happen to her, and we can't take her with us!"

But Resa just shook her head and put her arm around Meggie's shoulders.

"Hey, Dustfinger!" called Basta. "I knew you couldn't do it. Give me my knife back. You don't know what to do with it anyway!"

Dustfinger ignored him. "They'll kill you if you stay, " he told Resa, but he let go of her hand.

"Hey, you up there!" bellowed Basta. "Help! Help! The prisoners are escaping!"

Meggie looked at Dustfinger in alarm. "Why didn't you gag him?"

"What with, princess?" asked Dustfinger. Resa held Meggie close and stroked her hair.

"They'll shoot you, they'll shoot you!" Basta's voice rang out. "Hey there! Help!" he shouted again, shaking the bars of the grating.

Footsteps were heard overhead. Dustfinger swore quietly, cast Resa one last glance, then turned and ran up the worn steps. Meggie couldn't hear whether or not he got the door open at the top. She could hear nothing but Basta's shouting, and she ran back toward him, helpless but wanting to strike him through the bars, right in his bellowing face. Once again, she heard footsteps overhead, muffled cries. What were they to do? Someone came crashing down the stairs. Was Dustfinger coming back? No, it wasn't his face but Flatnose's that emerged from the darkness. Another of Capricorn's men was stumbling down the stairs behind him. He looked very young, round-faced, and beardless, but he immediately pointed his gun at Meggie and her mother.

"Hello there, Basta! What are you doing behind those bars?" asked Flatnose, surprised.

"Open up, you damn fool!" snapped Basta through the grating. "Dustfinger's gone. "

"Dustfinger?" Flatnose wiped his face on his sleeve. "Then the lad here was right. Came to me just now and said he'd seen the fire-eater up there behind a column."

"And you didn't give chase? Are you really as big a fool as you look?" Basta pressed his face to the bars as if he could make his way through them.

"Hey, watch what you say, OK?" Flatnose came up to the grating and studied Basta with obvious pleasure. "So that dirty-fingered fellow has outwitted you again! Capricorn won't like that. "

"Send someone after him!" roared Basta. "Or I'll tell Capricorn it was you who let him go!"

Flatnose took a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and noisily blew his nose. "Oh yes? So who's behind bars, you or me? He won't get far. There are two guards in the parking area, another three in the square, and his face is easy to recognize, you made good and sure of that, right?" His laughter sounded like a dog barking. "Tell you what, I could really get used to this sight! Your face looks good behind bars. They're just the thing to stop you from waving your knife around under anyone's nose. "

"Will you unlock this damn door?" bellowed Basta. "Or I'll cut off your ugly nose. Open up!"

Flatnose folded his arms. "Sadly, I can't, " he smirked in a mock-serious voice. "Our dirty-fingered friend seems to have taken the keys. Or do you see them anywhere?" he inquired of the boy who was still pointing his gun at Meggie and her mother. When he shook his head, Flatnose grinned all over his squashed-in face. "No, he can't see them either. Well, I suppose I'll just have to go to Mortola. Maybe she has a master key. "

"Wipe that grin off your face!" shouted Basta. "Or I'll carve it off!"

"You don't say! I can't see your knife anywhere. Has Dustfinger stolen another one? If this goes on he'll soon have a whole collection. " Flatnose turned his back on Basta and pointed to the cell next to him. "Shut the woman in there and guard her till I get back with the keys, " he said. "I'll just take little Miss Silvertongue back to her room first. "

Meggie resisted as he pulled her away, but Flatnose simply picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. "What was the girl doing down here anyway?" he asked. "Does Capricorn know about it?"