19. GLOOMY PROSPECTS

The python dropped his head lightly for a moment on Mowgli's shoulders. "A brave heart and a courteous tongue, " said he. "They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling. But now go hence quickly with thy friends. Go and sleep, for the moon sets, and what follows it is not well that thou shouldst see. "

Rudyard Kipling, The Jungle Book


They did indeed get enough to eat. Around noon a woman brought them bread and olives, and toward evening there was pasta smelling of fresh rosemary. But the food couldn't cut short the endless hours, anymore than full stomachs dispelled their fear of what the next day might bring. Perhaps not even a book would have done it, but there was no point thinking of that, since they had no books, only the blank walls and the locked door. At least a new lightbulb was hanging from the ceiling, so they didn't have to sit in the dark the whole time. Meggie kept looking at the crack under the door to see if night was falling yet. She imagined lizards sitting outside in the sun. She'd seen some in the square outside the church. Had the emerald-green lizard that scurried out of the heaps of coins found its way outside? And what had happened to the boy? Meggie saw his frightened expression whenever she closed her eyes.

She wondered whether the same thoughts were going through Mo's head. He had hardly said a word since they were locked up again, but had flopped down on the pile of straw and turned his face to the wall. Elinor was no more talkative. "How generous!" was all she had muttered when Cockerell had bolted the door after them. "Our host has graciously provided two more heaps of moldy straw." Then she had sat down in a corner, legs outstretched, and begun staring gloomily at her knees, then at the grubby wall.

"Mo," asked Meggie at last, when she could no longer stand the silence, "what do you think they're doing to the boy? And what kind of a friend are you supposed to read out of the book for Capricorn?"

"I don't know, Meggie," was all he replied, without turning around.

So she left him alone, made herself a bed of straw beside his, then paced up and down between the bare walls. Perhaps the strange boy was on the other side of one of them? She put her ear to the wall. Not a sound came through. Someone had scratched a name in the plaster: Ricardo Bentone, 19. 5. 96. Meggie ran her finger over the letters. A little farther on there was another name, and then another. Meggie wondered what had become of them, Ricardo, Ugo, and Bernardo. Perhaps I ought to scratch my name here, too, she thought, just in case… but she was careful not to think her way to the end of that sentence.

Behind her, Elinor lay down on her straw bed, sighing. When Meggie turned to her, she forced a smile. "What wouldn't I give for a comb!" she said, pushing the hair back from her forehead. "I'd never have thought that in a situation like this I'd miss a comb so much, of all things, but I do. Heavens, I don't even have a hairpin left. I must look like a witch, or a mop that's seen better days. "

"No, really, you look fine. Your hairpins were always falling out anyway, " said Meggie. "Actually I think you look younger."

"Younger? Hmm. Well, if you say so. " Elinor glanced down at herself. Her mouse-gray sweater was filthy, and there were three runs in her stockings. "Meggie, that was very kind of you to help me back there in the church, " she said, pulling her skirt down over her knees. "My knees were like jelly, I was so scared. I don't know what's come over me. I feel like someone else, as if the old Elinor has driven home and left me here by myself. " Her lips began to tremble, and Meggie thought she was going to cry, but the next moment the familiar Elinor was back again. "Well, there we are!" she said. "It's only in an emergency that you find out what you're truly made of. Personally, I always thought if I were a wooden statue I'd be carved out of oak, but it seems I'm more like pear wood or something else very soft. It only takes a villain like that to play with his knife in front of my nose and the wood shavings start flaking away."

And now the tears did come, hard as Elinor tried to keep them back. Angrily, she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I think you're doing splendidly, Elinor. " Mo was still lying with his face to the wall. "You're both doing splendidly. And I could wring my own neck for dragging you two into all this. "

"Nonsense. If anyone around here needs his neck wrung it'sCapricorn, " said Elinor. "And that man Basta. My God, I'd never have thought the idea of strangling another human being would give me such enormous satisfaction. But I'm sure if I could just get my hands around that Basta's neck, I -"

On seeing the shock in Meggie's eyes she fell guiltily silent, but Meggie just shrugged her shoulders.

"I feel the same, " she murmured and began scratching an M on the wall with the key of her bicycle lock. Weird to think she still had that key in her pants pocket – like a souvenir of another life.

Elinor ran her finger down one of the runs in her stockings, and Mo turned on his back and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm so sorry, Meggie, " he said suddenly. "I'm so sorry I let them take the book away from me. "

Meggie scratched an E into the wall. "It doesn't make any difference, " she said, stepping back. The Gs in her name looked like nibbled Os. "You probably couldn't have read her back out of it again anyway. "

"No, probably not, " murmured Mo and went on staring at the ceiling.

"It's not your fault, " said Meggie. She wanted to add: The main thing is you're with me. The main thing is for Basta never to put his knife to your throat again. I mean, I hardly remember my mother. I only know her from a couple of photographs. But Meggie said none of that, for she knew it wouldn't comfort Mo; it would probably just make him sadder than ever. For the first time, Meggie had some idea of how much he missed her mother. And for one crazy moment she felt jealous.

She scratched an I in the plaster – that was an easy letter – then she lowered the key.

Footsteps were approaching outside. Elinor put her hand to her mouth when they stopped.

Basta pushed open the door, and there was someone behind him. Meggie recognized the old woman she had seen in Capricorn's house. With a dour expression on her face, she pushed past Basta and put a mug and a thermos jug on the floor. "As if I didn't have enough to do!" she muttered, before going out again. "So now we have to feed our fine guests, too! They might at least be put to work if you have to keep them here."

"Tell that to Capricorn, " was all Basta replied. Then he drew his knife, smiled at Elinor, and wiped the blade on his jacket. It was getting dark outside, and his snow-white shirt shone in the gathering twilight.

"Enjoy your tea, Silvertongue, " he said, relishing the discomfort on Elinor's face. "Mortola's put so much honey in the jug your mouth will probably gum up with the first sip you take, but your throat will be as good as new tomorrow."

"What have you done with the boy?" asked Mo.

"Oh, I think he's next door to you. Capricorn hasn't decided what's to become of him yet. Cockerell will try him out with a little ordeal by fire tomorrow, and then we'll know if he's of any use to us. "

Mo sat up. "Ordeal by fire?" he asked, his voice both bitter and mocking. "Well, you can't have passed that one yourself. You' re even afraid of Dustfinger's matches. "

"Watch your tongue!" Basta hissed at him. "One more word and I'll cut it out, however precious it may be."

"Oh no, you won't, " said Mo, standing up. He took his time filling the mug with steaming tea.

"Maybe not. " Basta lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard. "But your little daughter has a tongue, too, and hers isn't as valuable as yours."

Mo flung the mug of hot tea at him, but Basta closed the door so quickly the mug smashed into the wood. "Sweet dreams!" he called from outside as he shot the bolts. "See you in the morning."

None of them said a word when he was gone, not for a long, long time. "Mo, tell me a story, " Meggie whispered at last.

"What story do you want to hear?" he asked, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Tell me the one about us being in Egypt, " she whispered, "and we're looking for treasure and surviving sandstorms and scorpions and all the scary ghosts rising from their tombs to watch over their precious grave goods. "

"Oh, that story, " said Mo. "Didn't I make it up for your eighth birthday? It's rather a gloomy tale, as far as I remember. "

"Yes, very!" said Meggie. "But it has a happy ending. Everything turns out all right, and we come home laden with treasure. "

"I wouldn't mind hearing that one myself, " said Elinor, her voice unsteady. She was probably still thinking of Basta's knife.

So Mo began to tell his story, without the rustle of pages, without the endless labyrinth of letters.

"Mo, nothing ever came out of a story you were just telling, did it?" asked Meggie at one point, suddenly feeling anxious.

"No, " he said. "For that to happen, it seems that printer's ink is necessary and someone else needs to have made up the story. " Then he continued, and Meggie and Elinor listened until his voice had carried them far, far away. Finally, they all went to sleep.

A sound woke them all. Someone was fiddling with the lock of the door. Meggie thought she heard a muffled curse.

"Oh no!" breathed Elinor. She was the first on her feet. "They're coming to take me away! That old woman's persuaded them! Why feed us? You, maybe, " she said, looking frantically at Mo, "but why me?"

"Go over to the wall, Elinor, " said Mo as he moved Meggie behind him. "Both of you keep well back from the door. "

The lock sprang open with a muffled little click, and the door was pushed just far enough open for someone to squeeze through it. Dustfinger. He cast a last anxious glance outside, then pulled the door shut behind him and leaned against it.

"So, I hear you've done it again, Silvertongue!" he said, lowering his voice. "They say the poor boy still hasn't uttered a sound. I don't blame him. I can tell you, it's a horrible feeling suddenly landing in someone else's story. "

"What are you doing here?" snapped Elinor. But the sight of Dustfinger had actually filled her with relief.

"Leave him alone, Elinor, " said Mo, moving her aside and going over to Dustfinger. "How are your hands?" he asked.

Dustfinger shrugged. "They put cold water on them in the kitchen, but the skin's still almost as red as the flames that licked at it."

"Ask him what he wants!" hissed Elinor. "And if he's just come to tell us he can't do anything about the mess we're in, then you might as well wring his lying neck!"

By way of answer, Dustfinger tossed her a bunch of keys.

Why do you think I'm here?" he grumbled back, switching off the light. "Stealing the car keys from Basta wasn't easy, and a word of thanks might not be out of place, but we can think about that later. We don't want to hang around any longer – let's get out of here. " Cautiously, he opened the door and listened. "There's a sentry posted up in the church tower, " he whispered, "but the guards are keeping watch on the hills, not the village. The dogs are in their kennels, and even if we do have to deal with them, luckily they like me better than Basta. "

"Why should we suddenly trust him?" whispered Elinor to Mo. "Suppose there's some other devilry behind this?"

"I want you to take me with you. That's my only motive!" snapped Dustfinger. "There's nothing here for me anymore. Capricorn's let me down. He's sent the only scrap of hope I still had up in smoke! He thinks he can do what he likes with me. Dustfinger's only a dog you can kick without fearing he may bite back, but he's wrong there. He burned the book, so I'm taking away the reader I brought him. And as for you, " he said, jabbing his burnt finger into Elinor's chest, "you can come because you have a car. No one gets out of this village on foot, not even Capricorn's men, not with the snakes that infest these hills. But I can't drive, and so…"

"I knew it!" Elinor almost forgot to keep her voice down. "He just wants to save his own skin. That's why he's helping us! He doesn't have a guilty conscience, oh no. Why should he?"

"I don't care why he's helping us, Elinor, " Mo interrupted her impatiently. "We have to get away from here, that's what matters. But we're going to take someone else with us, too. "

"Someone else? Who?" Dustfinger looked at him uneasily.

"The boy. The one I condemned yesterday to the same fate as you, " replied Mo, making his way past Dustfinger and out of the door. "Basta said he's next door to us, and a lock is no obstacle to your clever fingers."

"I burned those clever fingers today!" muttered Dustfinger angrily. "Still, just as you please. Your soft heart will be the ruin of us yet."

When Dustfinger knocked on the door bearing the number 5 a faint rustling could be heard on the other side of it. "Seems like they were going to let him live," he whispered as he got to work on the lock. "They put people condemned to death in the crypt under the church. Ever since I told Basta for a joke that a White Lady haunts the stone coffins down there, he turns white as a sheet whenever Capricorn sends him into the crypt. " He chuckled quietly at the memory, like a schoolboy who has just played a particularly good practical joke.

Meggie looked across at the church. "Do they often condemn people to death?" she asked quietly.

Dustfinger shrugged. "Not as often as they used to. But it does happen."

"Stop telling her such stories!" whispered Mo. He and Elinor never took their eyes off the church tower. The sentry was posted high up on the wall beside the belfry. It made Meggie dizzy just to look up there.

"Those are no stories, Silvertongue, it's the truth! Don't you recognize the truth when you meet it anymore? The truth's not pretty, of course. No one likes to look it in the face. " Dustfinger stepped back from the door and bowed. "After you. I've picked the lock, you can bring him out. " Even with his burnt fingers it hadn't taken him long.

"You go in," Mo whispered to Meggie. "He'll be less afraid of you. "

It was pitch dark on the other side of the door, but Meggie heard a rustle as she stepped into the room, as if an animal were moving somewhere in the straw. Dustfinger put his arm through the doorway and handed her a flashlight. When Meggie switched it on, the beam of light fell on the boy's dark face. The straw they had given him seemed even moldier than the pile on which Meggie had slept, but the boy looked as if he hadn't closed his eyes since Flatnose had locked him in any way. His arms were tightly clasped around his legs, as if they were all he could rely on. Perhaps he was still waiting for his nightmare to end.

"Come with us!" whispered Meggie, reaching out a hand to him. "We want to help you! We'll take you away from here!"

He didn't move, just stared at her, his eyes narrow with distrust.

"Hurry up, Meggie!" breathed Mo through the door.

The boy glanced at him and retreated until his back was right up against the wall.

"Please!" whispered Meggie. "You must come! The people here will do bad things to you. "

He was still looking at her. Then he stood up, cautiously, never taking his eyes off her. He was taller than she was by almost a hand's breadth. Suddenly, he leaped forward, making for the open door. He pushed Meggie aside so roughly that she fell over, but he couldn't get past Mo.

"Here, take it easy!" Mo said under his breath. "We really do want to help you, but you must do as we say, understand?"

The boy glared at him with dislike. "You're all devils!" he whispered. "Devils or demons!" So he did understand their language, and why not? His own story was told in every language in the world.

Meggie got up and rubbed her knee. She must have grazed it on the stone floor. "If you want to see some real devils then all you have to do is stay here!" she hissed at the boy as she pushed her way past him. He flinched away as if she were a witch.

Mo drew the boy to his side. "See that man on watch up there?" he whispered, pointing to the church tower. "If he sees us they'll kill us. "

The boy looked up at the man on guard.

Dustfinger went over to him. "Hurry up, will you!" he said quietly. "If the lad doesn't want to go with us then he can just stay here. And the rest of you take your shoes off, " he added, glancing at the boy's bare feet, "or you'll make more noise than a flock of goats."

Elinor grumbled something in a cross voice, but she obeyed, and the boy did follow them, if hesitantly. Dustfinger hurried on ahead as if trying to outstrip his own shadow. The alley down which he led them sloped so steeply that Meggie kept stumbling, and every time Elinor stubbed her toes on the bumpy cobblestones she uttered a quiet curse. It was dark between the close-set houses. Masonry arches stretched from one side of the street to the other, as if to prevent the walls from collapsing. The rusty streetlights cast ghostly shadows. Every noise sounded threatening, every cat scurrying out of a doorway made Meggie jump. But Capricorn's village was asleep. They passed only one guard, leaning on the wall in a side street and smoking. Two tomcats were fighting somewhere on the rooftops, and the guard bent to pick up a stone to throw at them. Dustfinger took advantage of the moment. Meggie was very glad he had made them take off their shoes. They slipped soundlessly past the guard, whose back was still turned, but Meggie dared not breathe again until they were around the next corner. Once again, she noticed the many empty houses, the blank windows, the dilapidated doors. What had wrecked these homes? Just the course of time? Had the people who once lived here run away from Capricorn, or was the village already abandoned before he and his men took up residence? Hadn't Dustfinger said something like that?

He had stopped. He raised his hand in a warning gesture and put a finger to his lips. They had reached the outskirts of the village. Only the parking lot still lay ahead. Two street lights illuminated the surface of the cracked asphalt, and a tall wire-netting fence rose to their left. "The arena for Capricorn's ceremonies and festivities is on the other side of that fence, " whispered Dustfinger. "I suppose the village children once played football there, but these days it's the scene of Capricorn's diabolical celebrations: bonfires, brandy, a few shots fired into the air, fireworks, blackened faces – that's their idea of fun."

They put on their shoes before following Dustfinger into the parking lot. Meggie kept looking at the wire fence. Diabolical celebrations. She could almost see the bonfires, the blackened faces… "Come on, Meggie!" urged Mo, leading her on. The sound of rushing water could be heard somewhere in the darkness, and Meggie remembered the bridge they had crossed on the way here. Suppose a guard was stationed there this time?

There were several cars in the lot, including Elinor's, which was parked a little way from the others. They all kept looking around anxiously as they ran toward it. Behind them the church tower rose high above the rooftops, and there was nothing now to shield them from the sentry's eyes. Meggie couldn't see him at this distance, but she was sure he was still there. From such a height they must look like black beetles crawling over a table. Did he have a pair of binoculars?

"Come on, Elinor!" whispered Mo. It seemed to be taking her forever to unlock the car door.

"All right, all right!" she growled back. "I just don't have such nimble hands as our light-fingered friend. "

Mo put his arm around Meggie's shoulders as he looked around, but apart from a few stray cats he could see nothing moving in the parking lot or among the houses. Reassured, he made Meggie get into the backseat. The boy hesitated for a moment, examining the car as if it were some strange animal and he couldn't be sure whether it was kindly disposed or would swallow him alive, but finally he got in, too. Meggie scowled at him and moved as far away from him as possible. Her knee still hurt.

"Where's the matchstick-eater?" whispered Elinor. "Damn it, don't tell me the man's disappeared again. "

Meggie was the first to spot him. He was stealing over to the other cars. Elinor clutched the steering wheel as if resisting only with difficulty the temptation to drive off without him. "What's he up to this time?" she hissed.

None of them knew the answer. Dustfinger was gone for an excruciatingly long time, and when he came back he was closing a switchblade.

"What was the idea of that?" Elinor snapped when he squeezed into the backseat next to the boy. "Didn't you say we must hurry? And what were you doing with that knife? Not cutting someone open, I hope!"

"Is my name Basta?" inquired Dustfinger, annoyed, as he forced his legs in behind the driver's seat. "I was slitting their tires, that's all. Just to be on the safe side. " He was still holding the knife.

Meggie looked at it uneasily. "That's Basta's knife, " she said.

Dustfinger smiled as he put it in his pants pocket. "Not anymore. I'd like to have stolen his silly amulet, too, but he wears it around his neck even at night, and that would have been too dangerous."

Somewhere a dog began to bark. Mo wound down his window and put his head out, looking concerned.

"Believe it or not, it's only toads making all that racket, " said Elinor. But what Meggie suddenly heard echoing through the night was nothing like the croaking of toads, and when she looked in alarm through the back window a man was climbing out of one of the parked vehicles, a dusty, dirty-white delivery van. It was one of Capricorn's men. Meggie had seen him in the church. He looked around him with a face still dazed by sleep.

Before Meggie could stop her, Elinor started the engine, and the man snatched a shotgun from his back and stumbled toward the car. For a moment Meggie almost felt sorry for him – he looked so sleepy and baffled. What would Capricorn do to a guard who fell asleep on duty? But then he aimed the gun and fired it. Meggie ducked her head well below the back of the seat, and Elinor pressed her foot down hard on the accelerator.

"Damn it all!" she shouted at Dustfinger. "Didn't you see that man when you were slinking around between the cars?"

"No, I didn't!" Dustfinger shouted back. "Now, drive! Not that way! It's over there. We must get to the road!"

Elinor wrenched the steering wheel around. The boy was huddled down beside Meggie. At every shot he had closed his eyes tight and put his hands over his ears. Were there any guns in his story? Probably not, no more than there were cars. His and Meggie's heads knocked together as Elinor's car bumped over the stony track. When it finally reached the road things weren't much better.

"This isn't the road we came along!" cried Elinor. Capricorn's village loomed over them like a fortress. The houses simply refused to get any smaller.

"Oh yes, it is! But Basta met us farther down when we arrived. " Dustfinger was clinging to the seat with one hand and to his backpack with the other. A furious chattering came from the bag, and the boy cast it a terrified glance.

Meggie thought she recognized the place where Basta had met them when they drove past it – it was the hill from which she had seen the village for the first time. Then the houses suddenly disappeared, engulfed by the night, as if Capricorn's village had never existed.

There was no guard posted on the bridge, nor at the rusty barrier across the road cutting off the way to the village. Meggie looked back at it until the darkness had swallowed it up. It's over, she thought. It really is all over.

The night was clear. Meggie had never seen so many stars. The sky stretched above the black hills like a cloth embroidered with tiny beads. The whole world seemed to consist of hills, like a cat arching its back at the face of the night – no human beings, no houses. No fear.

Mo turned around and stroked the hair back from Meggie's forehead. "Everything all right?" he asked.

She nodded and closed her eyes. Suddenly, all Meggie wanted to do was sleep – if only the pounding of her heart would let her.

"It's a dream, " murmured a toneless voice beside her "Only a dream. It's just a dream. What else can it be?"

Meggie turned to the boy, who wasn't looking at her. "It has to be a dream!" he repeated, nodding vigorously as if toencourage himself. "Everything looks wrong, false, weird, like in dreams, and now, " he murmured, turning his head to indicate the surroundings outside, "now we're flying. Or the night is flying past us. Or something."

Meggie could almost have smiled. She wanted to tell him it wasn't a dream, but she was just too tired to explain the whole complicated story. She looked at Dustfinger. He was patting the fabric of his pack, probably trying to soothe his angry marten.

"Don't look at me like that!" he said, when he saw Meggie watching him. "You can't expect me to explain. Your father will have to do that. After all, the poor lad's nightmare is his fault, "

Mo's guilty conscience showed clearly on his face when he turned to the boy, "What's your name?" he asked. "It wasn't in the -" But there he broke off.

The boy looked at him suspiciously, then bowed his head, "Farid, " he said dully, "My name is Farid, but I believe it's unlucky to speak in a dream. You never find your way back if you do, " He shut his mouth tightly and stared straight ahead, as if to avoid looking at anyone, and said no more. Did he have a mother and father in his story? Meggie couldn't remember. It had just mentioned a boy, a boy without a name who served a band of thieves.

"It's a dream, " he whispered again. "Only a dream. The sun will rise and it will all disappear. That's what it'll do. "

Mo looked at him, unhappy and at a loss, like someone who has handled a young bird, knowing it can never return to the nest. Poor Mo, thought Meggie. Poor Farid. But she was thinking of something else, too, and she was ashamed of herself for it. Ever since she had seen the lizard crawl out of the golden coins in Capricorn's church she couldn't help thinking about it. I wish I could do that, her thoughts had kept saying to her, very quietly. The wish had settled like a cuckoo in the nest of her heart, where it kept fluffing up its plumage and making itself at home, no matter how hard she tried to throw it out. I wish I could do that, it whispered. I'd like to bring them out of books, touch them, all those characters, all those wonderful characters. I want them to come out of the pages and sit beside me, I want them to smile at me, I want, I want, I want…

Outside, it was still as dark as if morning would never come.

"I'm going to drive straight on, " said Elinor, "until we reach my house."

Far behind them, headlights showed, like fingers probing the night.

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