Inkspell

Page 112

Meggie put her hand on his forehead. “You’re all hot! Lie down. You must rest.”
How often had he said the same to her; how many nights had he spent sitting beside her bed?
Measles, chicken pox, scarlet fever . . “Lord, Meggie,” he had groaned when she caught whooping cough, too, “can’t you leave out at least one childhood illness?”
The fever was pouring hot lead into his veins, and when Meggie bent over him, he thought for a moment that Resa was sitting beside him. But Meggie’s hair was fairer.
“Where are Dustfinger and Farid? They were with you, weren’t they? Have they been captured, too?” The fever made his tongue heavy.
“No, I don’t think so. Did you know Dustfinger has a wife?”
“Yes, it was because of her that Basta cut his face. Have you met her?”
Meggie nodded. “She’s very beautiful. Farid is jealous of her.”
“Really? I thought he was in love with you.”
She went red, bright red.
“Meggie?” Mo sat up. When on earth was this fever finally going to go away? It made him as weak as an old man. “Oh no!” he said quietly. “I see I’ve missed something. My daughter falls in love and I fail to notice! One more reason to curse that damned book. You should have stayed with Farid. I’d have been all right.”
“You wouldn’t! They’d have hanged you!”
“They may yet. The boy must be worried out of his mind about you now. Poor fellow. Has he kissed you?”
“Mo!” She turned her face away, embarrassed, but she was smiling.
“I have to know. I think I even have to give my permission, don’t I?”
“Mo, stop it!” She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, as usual when he was teasing her, and was horrified to see his face twist with pain. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Well, so long as it hurts, I’m still alive.”
The wind carried the sound of horses’ hooves up to them. Weapons clashed, and voices rang through the night.
“I tell you what,” said Mo quietly. “Let’s play our old game. We’ll imagine we’re in another story.
In Hobbiton, maybe, that’s quite a peaceful place, or with Wart and the wild geese. What do you think?”
She did not reply for some time. Then she took his hand and whispered, “I’d like to imagine us in the Wayless Wood together. You and me and Resa. Then I could show you the fairies, and the fire-elves, and the whispering trees, and – no, wait! Balbulus’s workshop! That’s it. I’d like to be there with you. He’s an illuminator, Mo. In the Castle of Sighs in Ombra! The best of all illuminators. You could see his brushes and pigments. . ”
Suddenly, she sounded so excited! She could still forget everything, like a child – she could forget the bolted door and the gallows in the courtyard. The mere thought of a couple of fine paintbrushes would do it. “Very well,” said Mo, stroking her fair hair again. “Anything you say.
Let’s imagine we’re in the castle of Ombra. I really would like to see those brushes.”
Chapter 62 – Where To?
I dreamt a limitless book,
A book unbound,
Its leaves scattered in fantastic abundance
On every line there was a new horizon drawn,
New heavens supposed;
New states, new souls.
– Clive Barker, Abarat
Farid was waiting by the statue, as they had agreed. He had hidden behind it – obviously he still found it hard to believe that he was invisible – and he hadn’t managed to get a sight of Meggie.
Dustfinger could tell from his voice; it was husky with disappointment. “I got into the tower, I even saw the cell, but it’s just too well guarded. And in the kitchen they were saying she’s a witch and she’ll be killed along with her father!”
“Well, what did you expect they’d be talking about? Did you hear anything else?”
“Yes, something about Firefox. They said he’ll send Cosimo back to the dead.”
“Ah. Nothing about the Black Prince?”
“Only that there are people looking for him, but they haven’t found him. They say he and his bear can exchange shapes, so that sometimes the bear is the Prince and the Prince is the bear. And they say he can fly and make himself invisible, and that he’s going to rescue the Bluejay!”
“Really?” Dustfinger laughed quietly. “The Prince will like that. Right, come on. It’s time for us to be off.”
“Be off?” Dustfinger felt Farid’s fingers clutching his arm. “Why? We could hide. The castle’s so big, no one would find us.”
“You think so? What would you do here anyway? Meggie wouldn’t go with you even if you could magic her through locked doors. Have you forgotten the deal she was offering the Adderhead?
Resa says it will take Silvertongue a few weeks to bind a book, and the Adderhead won’t hurt a hair of his head or Meggie’s until he has that book, will he? So come on! It’s time we looked for the Prince. We must tell him about Sootbird.”
Outside, it was still as dark as if morning would never come. This time they slipped through the castle gate together with a troop of men-at-arms. Dustfinger would have liked to know where they were going so late at night. Let’s hope they’re not hunting the Prince, he thought, cursing Sootbird for his treacherous heart.
The men-at-arms galloped off down the road leading away from Mount Adder into the mountains. Dustfinger was standing there watching them go when something furry suddenly jumped up at him. Taken by surprise, he stumbled into the structure of one of the gallows. Two feet were swinging back and forth above him. But Gwin clung to his arm as naturally as if his master had always been invisible.
“Damn it all!” His heart was in his mouth as he seized the marten. “You’ll be the death of me yet, you little beast, won’t you?” he hissed at him. “Where did you spring from?”
As if in answer, Roxane stepped out of the shadow of the castle walls. “Dustfinger?” she whispered as her eyes searched for his invisible face. Jink appeared behind her and raised his nose, sniffing.
“Yes, who did you think?” He guided her on with him, pressing her close to the wall so that the sentries on the battlements couldn’t see her. This time he didn’t ask why she had followed them.
He was too glad that she was there. Even if the expression on her face reminded him for a moment of Resa and her sadness. “There’s nothing we can do here for the moment,” he whispered. “But did you know that Sootbird is a welcome guest in the Castle of Night?”
“Sootbird?”
“Yes. It’s bad news. You ride back to Ombra and see to Jehan and Brianna. I’ll go and look for the Black Prince and warn him of this cuckoo in the nest.”
“And how are you going to find him?” Roxane smiled, as if she could see his baffled face. “Shall I take you to him?” “You?”
“Yes.” Up above, the guards called something to one another.
Dustfinger drew Roxane even closer to the wall. “The Prince cares for his Motley Folk very well,”
she whispered. “And as I’m sure you can imagine, he doesn’t always earn the money he needs for cripples and old folk, widows and orphans, by doing tricks in marketplaces. His men are skillful poachers and the terror of tax gatherers, they have hiding places all over the forest, in Argenta and Lombrica alike, and there are often sick or wounded men there. . Nettle will have nothing to do with robbers, nor will the moss-women, and they don’t trust most physicians. So some time ago they began coming to me. I’m not afraid of the forest, I’ve been in its darkest corners with you. Arrow wounds, broken bones, a bad cough – I know how to cure all those, and the Prince trusts me. I was always Dustfinger’s wife to him, even when I was married to another man.