第 43 页

Her home, too, had consisted of paper and printer's ink. She probably felt as lost as he did in the

real world. He didn't let her see his sympathy, of course, but hid it behind a mask of mockery

and indifference, just as she hid her despair behind rage. "What did you expect? Capricorn knew

where you lived. Anyone could foresee that he'd send his men out when you'd escaped him. He

always takes revenge."

"Oh yes, and who told him where I live? You did!" Elinor swung her arm back with her fist

clenched, but Far id caught it. He had grazed his knee on the road. "He didn't give anything

away!" he cried. "Nothing at all. He's only here to steal something."

Elinor lowered her arm.

"So that's it!" Silvertongue went up to them. "You're here to get hold of the book. That's crazy!"

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"Well, how about you? What areyou planning to do?" Dustfinger looked at him scornfully.

"You're just going to walk into Capricorn's church and ask for your daughter back, are you?"

Silvertongue did not reply.

"He won't hand her over and you know it!" Dustfinger went on. "She's only the bait, and as soon

as you've swallowed it the pair of you will be Capricorn's prisoners — for the rest of your lives,

most likely."

"I wanted to call the police!" Elinor freed her arm crossly from Farid's brown hands. "But

Mortimer was against it."

"Sensible of him! Capricorn would have abandoned Meggie up in the mountains and you'd never

have seen her again."

Silvertongue looked up at the nearby mountains looming dark behind their foothills. "Wait until

I've stolen the book!" said Dustfinger. "I'm going to creep into the village again tonight. I won't

be able to get your daughter out the way I did last time because Capricorn has trebled the

guards, and the whole village is lit up at night now, brighter than a jeweler's shop window, but

perhaps I can find out where they're keeping her prisoner. Then you can do what you like with

the information. And in return for my trouble you could try reading me back into the book. What

about it?"

Dustfinger considered this a very reasonable proposition, but Silvertongue thought it over only

briefly before shaking his head. "No," he said. "No, I'm sorry, I can't wait any longer. Meggie

needs me." With these words he turned and went back to the car, but before he could get in

Dustfinger barred his way.

"I'm sorry, too," he said, snapping open Basta's knife. "You know I don't like these things, but

sometimes people have to be protected from their own stupidity. I'm not going to let you

stumble into the village like a rabbit into a trap, just for Capricorn to shut you and your magic

voice away. It won't help your daughter and it certainly won't help me."

At Dustfinger's signal, Farid had drawn his knife, too. Dustfinger had bought it for him in the

village by the sea; it was a ridiculous little thing but Farid pressed it into Elinor's ribs so hard

that she grimaced. "Good God, are you planning to slit me open, you little wretch?" she snapped

at him. The boy jumped, but he did not remove his knife.

"Move the car off the road, Silvertongue!" ordered Dustfinger. "And don't get any silly ideas: The

boy will keep his knife pressed at your bookworm friend's chest until you're back here with us."

Silvertongue obeyed. Of course. What else could he do? They tied him and Elinor to the trees just

behind the burnt-out cottage, only a few paces from their own makeshift camp. Elinor scolded

even louder than Gwin when he was pulled out of the backpack by his tail.

"Stop that!" Dustfinger told her. "It won't do any of us any good for Capricorn's men to find us

here." That worked. She fell silent at once, as if she had swallowed her tongue. Silver-tongue had

leaned his head back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. Farid checked all the knots again

carefully, but then Dustfinger beckoned him over.

"I want you to keep a watch on those two when I go down to the village tonight," he whispered.

"And don't start carrying on about ghosts again. After all, you won't be alone this time."

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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.

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Chapter 36 – In Capricorn’s House

"It's the place that worries you," said Hazel. "I don't like it myself, but it won't go on

forever."

– Richard Adams, Watership Down

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.

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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?

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Chapter 37 – Carelessness

"You think this is a trap, then?" the Count asked.

"I always think everything is a trap until proven otherwise," the Prince answered. "Which

is why I'm still alive."

– William Goldman, The Princess Bride

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

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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.

"Where's Resa?" Dustfinger clutched the grating. "What's happened to her?"

The girl seemed to be transfixed by terror. She was staring at him as if she had never seen a

scarred face before.

"Did she send you down here?" Dustfinger wished he could put his hands through the grating

and shake this silly little goose. "Tell me! I don't have all night." He shouldn't have asked Resa to