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father comes back? You'll have to do something to pass the time here."

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Before Meggie could answer that one, Elinor bent to pick up a piece of paper lying on the carpet

beside her bed. It was Meggie’s good-bye note. She must have dropped it when she saw the book

in Elinor's arms.

"What on earth's this?" asked Elinor, when she had read it, frowning. "You were planning to go

and look for your father? Where, for heaven's sake? You're even more foolish than I thought."

Meggie pressed Inkheart close to her. "Who else is going to look for him?" she said. Her lips

began to tremble, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

"Well then, we'll just have to go and look for him together!" replied Elinor, sounding annoyed.

"But first let's give him a chance to come back. Do you think he'll be pleased to get back here

only to find you've disappeared, gone looking for him in the big, wide world?"

Meggie shook her head. Elinor's carpet was swimming before her eyes. A tear ran down her

nose.

"OK, that's all settled, then," growled Elinor, offering Meggie a cotton handkerchief. "Blow your

nose and then we'll have breakfast."

She wouldn't let Meggie out of the house before she had eaten a roll and swallowed a glass of

milk. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," she announced, buttering her own third

slice of bread. "And what's more, when your father gets back I don't want you telling him I've

been starving you. Like the wicked stepmother in the fairy tale, you know."

An answer sprang to the tip of Meggie's tongue, but she swallowed it along with the last of her

roll and took the book outside.

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Chapter 1O – The Lion’s Den

Look. (Grown-ups skip this paragraph.) I'm not about to tell you this book has a tragic

ending, I already said in the very first line how it was my favorite in all the world. But

there's a lot of bad stuff coming.

– William Goldman, The Princess Bride

Meggie sat on the bench behind the house. Dustfinger's burnt-out torches were still stuck in the

ground beside it. She didn't usually hesitate so long before opening a book, but she was afraid of

what was waiting for her inside this one. That was a brand-new feeling. She had never before

been afraid of what a book would tell her. Far from it. Usually, she was so eager to let it lead her

into an undiscovered world, one she had never been to before, that she often started to read at

the most unsuitable moments. Both she and Mo often read at breakfast and, as a result, he had

more than once taken her to school late. And she used to read under the desk at school, too, and

late at night in bed until Mo pulled back the covers and threatened to take all the books out of

her room so that she'd get enough sleep for once. Of course he would never have done such a

thing, and he knew she knew he wouldn't, but for a few days after such a threat she would put

her book under her pillow around nine in the evening and let it go on whispering to her in her

dreams, so that Mo could feel he was being a really good father.

She wouldn't have put this book under her pillow for fear of what it might whisper to her. For

the very first time in her life Meggie wasn't sure that she wanted to enter the world waiting for

her between the covers of a book. All the bad things that had happened over the last three days

seemed to have come out of this book, and perhaps they were only a faint reflection of what still

awaited her inside it.

All the same, she had to begin. Where else was she to look for Mo? Elinor was right; there was no

point in simply running off at random. She had to look for Mo's trail among the printed letters in

Inkheart. But she had hardly opened it at the first page when she heard footsteps behind her.

"You'll get sunstroke if you keep on sitting in the full sunlight," said a familiar voice.

Meggie spun around.

Dustfinger made her a bow. Of course his face wore its usual smile. "Well, what a surprise!" he

said, leaning over her shoulder and looking at the open book on her lap. "So it's here after all.

You've got it."

Meggie was still looking uncomprehendingly at his scarred race. How could he stand there

acting as if nothing had happened? "Where've you been?" she snapped. "Didn't they take you,

too? And where's Mo? Where have they taken him?" She couldn't get the words out fast enough.

But Dustfinger took his time answering. He examined the bushes all around as if he had never

seen anything like them before. He was wearing his coat, although the day was so hot that

perspiration stood out in gleaming little beads on his forehead. "No, they didn't take me, too," he

said at last, turning to face Meggie again. "But I saw them drive off with your father. I ran after

them, right through the undergrowth, a couple of times I thought I'd break my neck going down

that wretched slope, but I got to the gate just in time to see them driving off south. Naturally I

recognized them at once. Capricorn had sent his best men. Even Basta was with them."

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Meggie was staring at his lips as if she could make the words come out of them faster. "Do you

know where they've taken Mo?" Her voice shook with impatience.

"To Capricorn's village, I think. But I wanted to be sure," said Dustfinger, taking off his coat and

draping it over the bench, "so I ran after them. I know it sounds silly to run after a car," he added,

when Meggie frowned in disbelief, "but I was so furious. It had all been for nothing — my

warning you, the three of us coming here . . . Well, I managed to hitch a lift to the next village.

They'd filled up the fuel tank there, four men in black, not very friendly. And they hadn't been

gone long. So I... er ... borrowed a moped and tried to go on after them. Don't look at me like that

— you can set your mind at rest — I took the moped back later. It wasn't particularly fast, but

luckily the roads are very, very winding here, and I eventually saw them again far down in the

valley, while I was still making my way around the bends above them. So then I was sure they

were taking your father to Capricorn's headquarters.

Not to one of his hideouts farther north, but straight to the lion's den."

"The lion's den," Meggie repeated. "Where is it?"

"About three hundred kilometers south of here, I'd say." Dustfinger sat down on the bench

beside her and blinked as he leered at the sun. "Not far from the coast." Once again, he looked at

the book still lying on Meggie's lap. "Capricorn's not going to be pleased when his men bring him

the wrong book," he said. "I only hope he doesn't take his disappointment out on your father."

"But Mo didn't know it was the wrong book! Elinor swapped them in secret." There they came

again, those infuriating tears! Meggie wiped her eyes on her sleeve. Dustfinger wrinkled his

brow, looking at her as if he wasn't sure whether to believe her.

"She says she just wanted to look at it! She had it in her bedroom. Mo knew the secret place

where she'd hidden it, and because the book they took was wrapped in brown paper he never

noticed it was the wrong one! And Capricorn's men didn't check either."

"Of course not. How could they?" Dustfinger's voice was full of scorn. "They can't read. One book

is just like any other to them, just printed paper. Anyway, they're used to being given anything

they want."

Meggie's voice was shrill with fear. "You must take me to that village! Please!" She looked

pleadingly at Dustfinger. "I'll explain everything to Capricorn, and give him the book, and then

he'll let Mo go. All right?"

Dustfinger blinked up at the sun again. "Yes, of course," he said, without looking at Meggie.

"That's probably the only solution. ..."

But before he could say any more they heard Elinor's voice calling from the house. "Well, well,

what have we here?" she cried, leaning out of her open window. Its pale yellow curtain flapped

in the wind as if a ghost were caught in it. "If it isn't our friend the matchstick-swallower!"

Meggie jumped up and ran over the lawn toward her. "Elinor, he knows where Mo is!" she cried.

"Does he indeed?" Elinor leaned on the windowsill and scrutinized Dustfinger through narrowed

eyes. "Put that book down!" she snapped at him. "Meggie, take the book away from him."

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Taken aback, Meggie turned around. Dustfinger really was holding Inkheart, but when Meggie

looked at him he quickly put it back down on the bench. Then, with a nasty glance in Elinor's

direction, he beckoned her over. Hesitantly, Meggie went to him.

"Yes, all right, I'll take you to your father, even though it may be dangerous for me," whispered

Dustfinger when she was beside him. "But she stays here, understand?" He slyly nodded his head

in Elinor's direction.

Meggie looked uncertainly at the house.

"Like me to guess what he whispered to you?" called Elinor across the lawn.

Dustfinger cast Meggie a warning glance, but she ignored it. "He's going to take me to Mo!" she

called back.

"A good idea," called Elinor. "But I'm coming, too. Even if the pair of you might prefer to do

without my company!"

"We certainly might!" muttered Dustfinger, smiling guilelessly at Elinor. "But who knows,

perhaps we can swap her for your father! I daresay Capricorn could do with another

maidservant. I know she's no good at cooking, but perhaps she do the laundry — even if that's

not something you learn from books."

Meggie began to laugh — although she couldn't tell from Dustfinger's face if he was joking or

meant it seriously.

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Chapter 11 – A Coward

Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, those soft touches wafted

through the air, those invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way.

– Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

Dustfinger did not steal into Meggie's room until he was quite sure she was asleep. She had

locked her door. Undoubtedly Elinor had persuaded her to do that because she didn't trust him

and because Meggie had refused to give Ink-heart back to her. Dustfinger couldn't help smiling

as he inserted the thin wire into the lock. What a stupid woman she was, in spite of all those

books she'd read! Did she really think such an ordinary lock was any obstacle? "Well, perhaps it

might be for fat fingers like yours, Elinor!" he whispered to himself as he opened the door. "But

my fingers play with fire, and it's made them quick and skillful."

His liking for Silvertongue's daughter was a more serious obstacle, and his guilty conscience

didn't make matters any easier Yes, Dustfinger did have a guilty conscience as he crept to

Reggie's room, although he hadn't come to steal the book. Naturally Capricorn still wanted it —

the book and Silver-tongue's daughter, too, those were his new orders. But that must wait.

Tonight, Dustfinger was there for a different reason. Tonight, something that had been gnawing

at his heart for years drove him to Meggie's room.

He stood thoughtfully beside the bed, looking at the sleeping girl- Betraying her father to

Capricorn had not been particularly difficult, but with her it would be different. Her face

reminded Dustfinger of another one, although no grief had yet left dark shadows on Meggie's

childish features. Strange, every time the girl looked at him he felt a wish to show her that he

didn't deserve the distrust he always saw in her eyes, even when she was smiling at him. She

looked at her father in a very different way — as if he could protect her from all the dark and

evil in the world. What a stupid, stupid idea! No one would be able to protect her from that.

Dustfinger stroked the scars on his face and frowned. Enough of such useless thoughts. He

would bring Capricorn what he wanted: the girl and the book. But not tonight.

Gwin moved on his shoulder, trying to wriggle out of his collar, which he liked as little as he

liked the dog's leash Dustfinger always carried with him. He wanted to go hunting, but

Dustfinger wasn't letting him out. Last night the marten had run away from him while he was

talking to Basta. The furry little devil was still afraid of Basta. Dustfinger couldn't blame him.

Meggie was sleeping soundly, her face buried in a gray sweater, probably her father's. She

murmured something in her sleep but Dustfinger couldn't make out what. Once again his guilty

conscience stirred, but he pushed the tiresome feeling away. He couldn't do with that kind of

thing, not now and not later. The girl was nothing to do with him, and he was quits with her

father now. Yes, quits. He had no reason to feel like a miserable double-dealing villain.

He looked around the dark room in search of something. Where would Meggie put the book?