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annoyance, biting and tearing at the chain.

"Curse the little brute, I'm sure to fall over it," said Elinor crossly. "Can't you keep it away from

under my sore feet? I tell you one thing, the moment we're in decent human company again I'm

going to take the best hotel room money can buy and put my poor feet up on a big soft cushion."

"You've still got money on you?" Mo sounded incredulous. "They took all mine first thing."

"Oh yes, Basta took my wallet, too," said Elinor. "But I think ahead. I have my credit card

somewhere safe."

"Is anywhere safe from Basta?" Dustfinger dragged Gwin away from a tree trunk.

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"Oh yes," replied Elinor. "Men are never particularly keen to search fat old ladies. Which can be

useful. That was how some of my most valuable books came into my —" She interrupted herself

abruptly, clearing her throat when her eyes fell on Meggie. But Meggie acted as if she hadn't

heard Elinor's last remark, or at least hadn't understood what she meant.

"You're not all that fat!" Meggie said. "And old is a bit of an exaggeration!" Oh, how her own feet

hurt.

"Well, thank you very much, darling!" said Elinor. "I think I'll buy you from your father so you

can say nice things like that to me three times a day. How much do you want for her, Mo?"

'I'll have to think about it," replied Mo. "Suppose I lend her to you for a few days now and then?"

They chatted like this, voices scarcely raised above a whisper, as they struggled through the

thorny growth on the hillside. It didn't matter what they talked about, for their hushed

conversation had only one purpose: to fend off the fear and exhaustion that was weighing down

all their limbs. On and on they walked, hoping that Dustfinger knew where he was taking them.

Meggie kept close behind Mo all the time. At least his back offered some protection from the

thorny branches that kept catching at her clothes and scratching her face, like vicious animals

with needle-sharp claws lying in wait in the dark.

At last, they came upon a footpath they could follow. It was littered with empty cartridge cases

dropped by hunters who had dealt out death in this silent place. Walking was easier on the

trodden earth, although Meggie was so tired she could hardly pick up her feet. When she

stumbled against the back of Mo's legs for the second time, he put her on his back and carried

her as he used to do before she could keep up with his long legs. He had called her "Little Flea" in

those days, or "Feather Girl," or "Tinker Bell" after the fairy in Peter Pan. Sometimes he still

called her Tinker Bell.

Wearily, Meggie rested her face against his shoulders and tried to think of Peter Pan instead of

snakes, or men with knives. But this time her own story was too strong to give way to an

invented one. Mo was right: Fear devours everything.

It was a long time since Farid had said anything. Most of the time he stumbled along after

Dustfinger. He seemed to have taken a fancy to Gwin. Whenever the marten's chain got caught

up somewhere Farid would rush to free him, even if Gwin only hissed at him in return and

snapped at his fingers. Once he sank his teeth into the boy's thumb and made it bleed.

"Well, do you still think this is a dream?" asked Dustfinger ironically as Farid wiped the blood

away.

The boy didn't answer, just examined his sore thumb. Then he sucked it and spat. "What else

could it be?" he asked.

Dustfinger looked at Mo, but he seemed so deep in thought , didn't notice the glance. "How about

another story?" said Dustfinger.

Farid laughed. "Another story. I like that idea. I've always been fond of stories."

"Oh yes? And how do you like this one?"

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"Too many thorns, and I wish it would get light, but at least I haven't had to work yet. That's

something."

Meggie couldn't help smiling.

A bird called in the distance. Gwin stopped and raised his round muzzle, sniffing the air. The

night belongs to beasts of prey, and always has. It's easy to forget that when you're indoors,

protected by light and solid walls. Night provides cover for hunters, making it easy for them to

creep up and strike their prey blind. Words about the night from one of her favorite books

slipped into Meggie's mind: "This is the hour of pride and power, talon and claw."

She snuggled her face against Mo's shoulder once more. Perhaps I should walk again, she

thought. He's been carrying me for so long. But then she nodded off to sleep still perched on his

back.

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Chapter 21 – Basta

This grove, that was now so peaceful, must then have rung with cries, I thought; and even

with the thought I could believe I heard it ringing still.

– Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island

Meggie woke up when Mo stopped. The path had brought them almost to the crest of the hill. It

was still dark, but the night was growing paler as if lifting her skirts a little way off to let the new

morning appear.

"We must take a breather, Dustfinger," Meggie heard Mo saying. "The boy can hardly keep up,

Elinor's feet must need a rest, and if you ask me this wouldn't be a bad place for one."

"What feet?" asked Elinor, sinking to the ground with a groan. "You mean those poor sore

objects attached to my legs?'

"That's what I mean," said Mo as he pulled her up again. "But they must go just a little farther.

We'll rest up there."

A good fifty meters to their left, at the very top of the hill there was a house, if you could call it

that, huddled among the olive trees. Meggie slipped off Mo's back before they climbed up to it.

The walls looked as if someone had piled up a number of stones in a hurry, the roof had

collapsed, and where there must once have been a door only a black hole now gaped.

Mo had to bend low to make his way in. Broken shingles from the roof covered the floor, there

was an empty sack in a corner, some broken earthenware shards, perhaps from a dish or a plate,

and a few bones gnawed clean. Mo sighed.

"Not a very comfortable place, Meggie," he said. "But try imagining you're hiding out with the

Lost Boys, or ..."

"Or in Huckleberry Finn's tub." Meggie looked around. "I think I'd rather sleep outside, all the

same."

Elinor came in. The accommodation didn't seem to appeal much to her either.

Mo gave Meggie a kiss and went back to the door. "Believe me, it'll be safer in here," he said.

Meggie looked at him in concern. "Where are you going? You have to get some sleep, too."

"Oh, I'm not tired." His face gave away his lie. "Go to sleep now, all right?" Then he went out

again.

Elinor pushed the broken shingles aside with her foot. "Come on," she said, taking off her jacket

and spreading it on the floor. "Let's try to make ourselves comfortable together. Your father's

right, we must just imagine we're somewhere else. Why are adventures so much more fun when

you read about them?" she murmured, stretching out on the floor.

Cautiously, Meggie lay down beside her. "At least it isn't raining," remarked Elinor, looking at the

collapsed roof. "And we have the stars above us, even if they're fading. Perhaps I ought to have a

few holes knocked in my own roof at home."

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With an impatient nod, she told Meggie to lay her head on her arm. "In case any spiders try

crawling into your ears while you're asleep," she said, closing her eyes. "Oh Lord," Meggie heard

her add in a murmur, "I'll have to buy a new pair of feet, I really will. There's no hope for these."

With that she was asleep.

But Meggie lay with her eyes wide open, listening to the sounds outside. She heard Mo talking

quietly to Dustfinger, but she couldn't make out the words. Once she thought she heard Basta's

name. The boy Farid had stayed outside, too, but he made no sound.

Elinor began snoring after only a few minutes, but hard as Meggie tried she couldn't get to sleep,

so she got up quietly and slipped outside. Mo was awake, sitting with his back against a tree,

watching the morning light drive the night from the sky above the surrounding hills. Dustfinger

was sitting a little farther off. He raised his head only briefly when Meggie came out of the hut.

Was he thinking of the fairies and the goblins? Farid lay beside him, curled up like a dog, and

Gwin was sitting at his feet eating something — Meggie quickly turned her head away.

Dawn was breaking over the hills, casting light on summit after summit. Meggie saw houses in

the distance, scattered like toys on the green slopes. The sea must lie somewhere beyond them.

She put her head on Mo's lap and looked up at his face.

"They won't find us here, will they?" she asked.

"No, of course not!" he said, but his face wasn't half as carefree as his voice. "Why aren't you

asleep in there with Elinor?"

"She snores," murmured Meggie.

Mo smiled. Then, frowning, he looked down the hillside to the place where the path lay, hidden

by rockroses, brambles, and thorns.

Dustfinger never took his eyes off the path, either. The sight of the two men on watch made

Meggie feel better, and soon she was sleeping as deeply as Farid — as if the ground outside the

tumbledown house were covered with downy feathers instead of thorns.

When Mo shook her awake, at first she thought it had all been just a bad dream — but his hand

was over her mouth. He was holding a finger to his lips in warning. Meggie heard the rustle of

grass and the barking of a dog. Mo pulled her to her feet and pushed her and Farid into the

shelter of the dark hovel. Elinor was still snoring. She looked like a young girl with the light of

dawn on her face, but as soon as Mo had woken her all her weariness, anxiety, and fear came

rushing back.

Mo and Dustfinger stationed themselves by the doorway, one to the left and the other to the

right, their backs pressed to the wall. Men's voices broke the quiet of the morning. Meggie

thought she could hear the dogs sniffing and wished she could dissolve into thin air, odorless

and invisible air. Farid stood beside her, his eyes wide. Meggie noticed for the first time that they

were almost black. She had never seen such dark eyes, and his lashes were as long as a girl's.

Elinor was leaning against the wall opposite, biting her lips nervously. Dustfinger made a sign to

Mo, and before Meggie realized what their plan was they made their way out. The olive trees

where they took cover were stunted, with matted branches hanging almost to the ground, as if

the weight of their leaves was too much for them. A child could easily have hidden behind them,

but did they provide enough shelter for two grown men?

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Meggie peered out of the doorway. Her heart was beating so fast that it almost suffocated her.

Outside, the sun was rising higher and higher. Daylight crept into every valley, beneath every

tree, and suddenly Meggie wished for the night again. Mo was kneeling down so his head

couldn't be seen above the tangled branches. Dustfinger was pressed hard against a crooked

tree trunk, and there, terrifyingly close, twenty paces at most away from the two of them, was

Basta. He was making his way up the slope through thistles and knee-high grass.

"They'll have reached the valley by now!" Meggie heard a rough voice call, and next moment

Flatnose appeared beside Basta. They had brought two vicious-looking dogs with them. Meggie

saw the dogs' broad skulls pushing through the grass and heard them snuffling.

"What, with two children and that fat woman?" Basta shook his head and looked around. Farid

peered past Meggie — and flinched back as if something had bitten him when he saw the two

men.

"Basta?" Soundlessly, Elinor's lips formed his name. Meggie nodded, and Elinor went even paler

than she was already.

"Damn it, Basta, how much longer are you going to trudge around here?" Flatnose's voice echoed

a long way in the silence that lay over the hills. "The snakes will soon be waking up, and I'm

hungry. Let's just say they fell into the valley with the car. We'll give it another push and no one

will find out! The snakes will probably get them anyway. And if not, then they'll lose their way,

starve, get sunstroke — oh, who cares what happens? But anyway we'll never see them again."

"He's been feeding them cheese!" Basta furiously hauled the dogs to his side. "That bloody little

fire-eater has been feeding them cheese to ruin their noses. But nobody would believe me. No

wonder they whine with joy every time they see his ugly mug."

"You beat them too much," grunted Flatnose. "That's why they won't work for you. Dogs don't

like being beaten."

"Nonsense. You have to beat them or they'll bite you! They like the fire-eater because he's like