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even the girl here doesn't believe that tale. You'll have to think up something better!"

Meggie stared up at Dustfinger. She so wanted to believe him.

"Basta, let go of that poor fairy!" he called to his old enemy. "Send her up to me. It's far too long

since I saw one of those."

"Oh, I bet you'd like that. No, I'm keeping her for myself!" replied Basta, flicking Tinker Bell's tiny

nose with his finger. "I've heard that fairies keep bad luck away if you keep them in your house.

I'll put her in one of those big glass wine jugs. You were always so keen on fairies — what do

they eat? Do I feed her flies, or what?"

Tinker Bell braced her arms against his fingers and tried desperately to free her second wing.

She managed it, too, but Basta had a strong grip on her legs, and hard as she fluttered she

couldn't break free. At last, with a quiet tinkle, she gave up. Her light was hardly any brighter

now than a candle flickering out.

"Do you know why I had the girl brought here, Dustfinger?" called Capricorn up to his prisoner.

"She was to persuade you to tell us something about her father and where he is — if you really

know anything, which I begin to doubt. But now I don't need the information anymore. The

daughter can take her father's place, and just at the right time, too! For I've decided that we must

think up something really special for your punishment. Something impressive, something

memorable! After all, that's only right for a traitor, isn't it? Can you guess what my idea is? No?

Then let me give you a clue. In your honor, my new reader will read aloud to us from Ink-heart.

It's your favorite book, after all, even though I know you're not very fond of the character I want

her to bring out of it. Her father would have fetched that old friend for me long ago if you hadn't

helped him to escape, but now his daughter will do it. Can you guess who it is I mean?"

Dustfinger laid his scarred cheek against the net. "Oh yes, indeed I can. How could I ever forget

him?" he said so quietly that Meggie could hardly make out the words.

"Why are you talking only about the fire-eater's punishment?" The Magpie had appeared

between the columns again "Have you forgotten our little mute pigeon, Resa? Her treachery was

at least as bad as his." She looked up at the second net with a disdainful expression.

"Yes, to be sure!" There was something almost like regret in Capricorn's voice. "Ah, what a waste

— but there's nothing else for it."

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Meggie couldn't see the face of the woman dangling in the second net just beyond Dustfinger.

She saw only the dark blond hair, a blue dress, and slender hands clinging to the ropes.

Capricorn sighed heavily. "It really is a shame," he said, turning to Dustfinger. "Why did you have

to pick on her, of all people? Couldn't you have persuaded one of the others to go nosing around

for you? I really have had a weakness for her, ever since that useless Darius read her out of the

book for me. It never bothered me that she lost her voice in the process. No, far from it, I stupidly

assumed that meant I could trust her more. Did you know her hair used to look like spun gold?"

"Yes, I remember that," said Dustfinger hoarsely. "But in your presence it's turned darker."

"Nonsense!" Capricorn frowned with annoyance. "Maybe we should try fairy dust. Sprinkled

with a little fairy dust, they say, even brass will look like gold. Perhaps it works on a woman's

hair as well."

"Hardly worth the trouble!" said the Magpie mockingly. "Unless you want her to look

particularly beautiful for her execution."

"Oh, never mind." Capricorn turned abruptly and went back to the steps. Meggie hardly noticed.

She was looking up at the strange woman. Capricorn's words were working away feverishly in

her mind: hair like spun gold . . . that useless reader Darius . . . No, it couldn't be true. She stared

up, narrowing her eyes to see the face better through the ropes, but it was hidden in dark

shadows.

"Good." Capricorn dropped into his chair again with another heavy sigh. "How long will we need

for the preparations? It all should be done properly, I think."

"Two days." The Magpie climbed the steps and took up her position behind him. "If you want to

summon the men from the other bases, that is."

Capricorn frowned. "Yes, why not? It's time to show everyone a little example. Discipline has left

much to be desired recently." He looked at Basta as he said this, and Basta bowed his head as if

all the misdemeanors of the last few days weighed heavily on him. "The day after tomorrow,

then," Capricorn went on. "When darkness falls. I want Darius to carry out another experiment

with the girl first. Get her to read something out of a book, anything — I just want to make sure

that fairy didn't turn up by pure chance."

Basta had wrapped Tinker Bell in his jacket again. Meggie wanted to put her hands over her ears

so as not to hear the feeble tinkling sounds the fairy was making. She pressed her lips together

to stop them from trembling and looked up at Capricorn.

"But I won't read aloud for you!" she said. Her voice rang out through the church at twice its

usual volume. "Not a word! I won't read you out any treasure, and I certainly won't read out

some kind of — of executioner!" She spat the word into Capricorn's face.

But Capricorn only toyed with the belt of his dressing gown, looking bored. "Take her away," he

told Basta. "It's late. The child must get some sleep."

Basta prodded Meggie in the back. "You heard. Go on, get moving."

Meggie looked up at Dustfinger one last time, then walked uncertainly down the nave ahead of

Basta. When she passed below the second net she looked up again. The unknown woman's face

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was still hidden, but she thought she could make out her eyes, and a slender nose . . . and if she

imagined the hair somewhat lighter in color —

"Go on, I said!" snapped Basta.

Meggie obeyed, but she kept looking back. "I won't do it!" she cried when she had almost

reached the church porch. "I swear! I won't read anyone here. Ever!"

"Oh, don't swear oaths you can't keep!" whispered Basta as he pushed the door open and led her

out into the brightly floodlit square.

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Chapter 40 – The Black Horse of the Night

He bent down and lifted Sophie from his pocket.... She was still in her nightie and her feet

were bare. She shivered and stared around her at the swirling mists and ghostly vapors.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"We is in Dream Country," the BFG said. "This is where all dreams is beginning."

– Roald Dahl, The BFG

Fenoglio was lying on his bed when Basta pushed Meggie in through the door.

"What have you done to her?" he demanded of Basta, swiftly getting to his feet. "She's white as a

sheet!"

But Basta had already closed the door behind him. "You'll be relieved in two hours," Meggie

heard him tell the guard. Then he was gone.

Fenoglio put his hands on Meggie's shoulders and looked in her face with concern. "Come on, tell

me. What did they want you for? Is your father here?"

Meggie shook her head. "They've caught Dustfinger," she said. "And a woman."

"What woman? Heavens, what a state you're in!" Fenoglio drew her over to the bed, and Meggie

sat down beside him.

"I think she's my mother," she whispered.

"Your mother?" Fenoglio looked at her in astonishment. His eyes were bloodshot from his

sleepless night.

Distractedly, Meggie smoothed down her skirt. It was dirty and crumpled. No wonder, she'd

been sleeping in it for days. "Her hair's darker now," she stammered, "and of course Mo's photo

of her is nine years old . . . Capricorn has her in a net, and Dustfinger, too. He's going to have

them both executed in two days' time, and I'm supposed to read someone out of Inkheart to do

it, that friend, as Capricorn calls him. I told you. Mo was supposed to be going to do it. You

wouldn't tell me who the friend was, but now you must!" She looked pleadingly at Fenoglio.

The old man closed his eyes. "Merciful heaven!" he murmured.

Outside, it was still dark. The moon hung in the sky in front of their window, with a cloud

drifting past it like a tattered dress.

"I'll tell you tomorrow," said Fenoglio. "That's a promise."

"No! Tell me now."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "It's not a story for this hour of night. You'll have bad dreams

afterward."

"Tell me!" Meggie repeated.

Fenoglio sighed. "Oh dear. I know that look from my grandchildren," he said. "Very well, then."

He helped her up to her bunk, put Mo's sweater under her head, and pulled the blanket up to her

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chin. "I'll tell it to you the way I wrote it in Inkheart," he said quietly. "I know that passage almost

by heart. I was very proud of it at the time." He cleared his throat before he began, whispering

the words into the night. "But one being was feared even more than Capricorn's men. He was

known as the Shadow, and he appeared only when Capricorn called him. Sometimes he was red as

fire, sometimes as gray as the ashes into which fire turns all that it devours. He leaped from the

ground like flame flickering up from wood. His touch and even his breath brought death. He rose up

at his master's feet, soundless andfaceless, scenting the air like a dog on the trail, waiting to be

shown his victim." Fenoglio swept a hand over his forehead and looked at the window. It was

some time before he went on, as if he were recalling the words to mind from long ago. "They

say," he continued at last, "that Capricorn had the Shadow made from his victims' ashes by a troll,

or the dwarves who know all that fire and smoke can do. No one was certain, for it was said that

Capricorn had those who had brought the Shadow to life killed afterward. But everyone knew one

thing: The Shadow was immortal and invulnerable and as pitiless as his master."

Fenoglio fell silent. And Meggie, her heart beating fast, gazed out at the night.

"Yes, Meggie," Fenoglio said at last in a low voice. "I think Capricorn wants you to bring him the

Shadow. And God have mercy on us if you succeed. There are many monsters in this world, most

of them human and all of them mortal. I wouldn't like to have an immortal monster on my

conscience, a monster spreading fear and terror here for all time. Your father had an idea when

he came to see me — I've already mentioned it to you, and it may be our only chance, but I just

don't know how it will work yet. I must think hard. We don't have much time and you ought to

get some sleep now. When did you say this is to happen — the day after tomorrow?"

Meggie nodded. "As soon as dusk falls," she whispered.

Fenoglio passed a weary hand over his face. "Don't worry about the woman," he said. "You may

not want to hear this but I don't think she can possibly be your mother, much as you may wish

she were. How could she have come here?"

"It was Darius!" Meggie buried her face in Mo's sweater. "The stupid man who can't read aloud

well enough. Capricorn said so: He read her back out of Inkheart and she lost her voice coming

out of the book. She's back, I'm sure she is, and Mo doesn't know! He thinks she's still stuck in

the story."

"Well, if you're right, then I wish she really were still there," muttered Fenoglio, pulling the

blanket up over her shoulders again with a sigh. "I still think you're wrong, but believe what you

like! And now go to sleep."

But of course Meggie couldn't sleep. She lay there with her face to the wall, listening to her own

heart. Worry and joy mingled there like two colors running into each other. Whenever she

closed her eyes she saw the nets and the two faces there among the cords, Dustfinger's and the

other face, blurred as an old photograph. Hard as she tried to see it more clearly, it always faded

again.

Dawn was breaking outside by the time she finally fell asleep, but the nightmares hadn't finished

with her yet. They grew especially fast in the gray time between night and day, spinning an

eternity out of seconds. One-eyed ogres and giant spiders stole into Meggie's sleep, hounds of

hell, witches who ate children, all the bugbears she had ever met in stories. They crept out of the

box that Mo had made her and jumped from the pages of her favorite books. Even the monsters

came out of the picture books that Mo had given her before she knew the alphabet. They danced

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through Meggie's dream, brightly colored and shaggy, their wide mouths smiling, baring their