Inkheart

38. A QUIET VOICE

Meggie did try her plan. As soon as it was dark she hammered on the door with her fist. Fenoglio woke with a start, but before he could stop her Meggie had called to the guard outside the door that she had to go to the toilet. The man who had relieved Flatnose was a short-legged fellow with jug ears, who was amusing himself by swatting moths with a rolled-up newspaper. Over a dozen insects were already smeared on the white wall when he let Meggie out into the corridor.

"I need to go, too!" cried Fenoglio, perhaps intending to dissuade Meggie from carrying out her plan, but the guard closed the door in his face. "One at a time!" he grunted at theold man. "And if you can't wait, you'll just have to pee out of the window."

Taking his newspaper with him as he escorted Meggie to the lavatory, he killed three more moths and a butterfly that was fluttering helplessly from wall to bare wall. Finally, he pushed a door open, the last door before the staircase to the ground floor. Just a few more steps, thought Meggie. I'm sure I can run downstairs faster than he can.

"Please, Meggie, you must forget about running away!" Fenoglio had kept whispering in her ear. "You'll get lost. There's nothing outside but wild country for miles! Your father would be furious if he knew what you were planning. "

Oh no, he wouldn't, Meggie had thought. But when she was in the little room, which contained nothing but a sink and a bucket, her courage almost failed her. It was so dark outside, so terribly dark. And it was still a long way to the door of Capricorn's house.

I must try, she whispered to herself before she opened the door. I must, I must!

The guard caught up with her on the fifth stair. He carried her back over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes. "And next time, I'll take you to the boss!" he said before pushing her back into the room. "He'll think up a good punishment for you. "

She cried for almost half an hour, while Fenoglio sat beside her staring unhappily into space. "It's all right, " he kept murmuring, but nothing was all right, nothing at all.

"We don't even have a light in here, " she finally sobbed. "And they've taken my books away."

At that Fenoglio reached under his pillow and put a flash light in her lap. "I found it under my mattress, " he whispered.

"With a few books, too. Who would have thought someone had hidden them there?"

Darius, the reader. Meggie could remember how the thin little man had come hurrying up the nave of Capricorn's church with his pile of books. The flashlight must surely be his. How long had Capricorn kept him prisoner in this bare little room?

"There was a blanket in the cupboard as well, " whispered Fenoglio. "I put it on the top bunk for you. Can't get up there myself, I'm afraid – when I tried the whole thing swayed like a ship at sea. "

"I'd rather sleep in the top bunk anyway, " murmured Meggie, rubbing her sleeve over her face. She didn't want to cry anymore. It was no good anyway.

Fenoglio had put some of Darius's books on the bunk along with the blanket for her, Meggie carefully laid them out side by side. They were almost all books for grown-ups: a well-worn thriller, a book about snakes, another about Alexander the Great, the Odyssey. The only books for children were a collection of fairy tales and Peter Pan – and she had read Peter Pan at least half a dozen times already.

Outside, the guard struck out with his newspaper again, and below her Fenoglio tossed and turned restlessly on the narrow bunk. Meggie knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, so there was no point in even trying. Once again she looked at the strange books. Closed doors, all of them. Which should she open? Behind which of them would she forget all of this, Basta and Capricorn, Inkheart, herself, everything? She put aside the thriller and the book about Alexander the Great, hesitated – and picked up the Odyssey. It was a worn little volume; Darius must have liked it very much. He had even underlined some passages, one of them so hard that his pencil had almost gone through the paper: But hard as he tried, he could not save his friends. Undecidedly, Meggie leafed through the worn pages, then closed the book and put it down. No. She knew the story well enough to realize that she was almost as afraid of the Greek heroes as she was of Capricorn's men. She wiped a lingering tear away from her cheek and let her hand hover over the other books. Fairy tales. She wasn't particularly fond of fairy tales, but the book looked attractive. The pages rustled as Meggie browsed through them. They were thin as tracing paper and covered with tiny print. There were wonderful illustrations of dwarves and fairies, and the stories told tales of mighty beings tall as giants, strong as bears, even immortal, but they were all malignant: The giants ate human beings, the dwarves were greedy for gold, the fairies were malicious and bore a grudge. No. Meggie turned the light on the last book. Peter Pan.

The fairy in that book wasn't very nice either, but at least Meggie knew the world awaiting her between its covers very well. Perhaps it was just the thing for such a dark night. An owl screeched outside, but otherwise all was still in Capricorn's village. Fenoglio murmured something in his sleep and began to snore. Meggie snuggled down under the scratchy blanket, took Mo's sweater out of her backpack, and put it under her head.

"Please, " she whispered as she opened the book, "please get me out of here just for an hour or so, please take me far, far away. " Outside, the guard muttered something to himself. He was probably bored to death. The floorboards creaked under his tread as he paced up and down outside the locked door,

"Take me away from here, " whispered Meggie, "please take me away from here. "

She let her finger run along the lines, over the rough, sandy paper, while her eyes followed the letters to another, colder place, in another time, to a house without locked doors and black-jacketed thugs. A moment after the fairy's entrance the window was blown open, whispered Meggie, hearing the sound of the window creaking as it opened, blown open by the breathing of the little stars, and Peter dropped in. He had carried Tinker Bell part of the way, and his hand was still messy with the fairy dust. Fairies, thought Meggie. I can see why Dustfinger misses the fairies. No, that was not allowed. She mustn't think of Dustfinger, only of Tinker Bell and Peter Pan, and Wendy lying in her bed, knowing nothing yet of the strange boy who had flown into her room dressed in leaves and cobwebs. "Tinker Bell, " he called softly, after making sure that the children were asleep. "Tink, where are you?" She was in a jug for the moment, and liking it extremely; she had never been in a jug before. Tinker Bell. Meggie whispered the name twice; she had always liked the sound of it – you clicked your tongue against your teeth, and then there was the soft B sound slipping out of your lips like a kiss. "Oh, do come out of that jug, and tell me, do you know where they put my shadow?" The loveliest tinkle as of golden bells answered him. It is the fairy language. You ordinary children can never hear it, but if you were to hear it you would know that you had heard it once before. If I could fly like Tinker Bell, thought Meggie, I could simply climb out on the windowsill and fly away. I wouldn't have to worry about the snakes, and I'd find Mo before he gets here. He must have lost the way. Yes, that must be it. But suppose something had happened to him… Meggie shook her head as if to drive away the bad thoughts that had wormed their way in yet again. Tink said that the shadow was in the big box, she whispered.

She meant the chest of drawers, and Peter jumped at the drawers, scattering their contents to the ground with both hands…

Meggie stopped. There was something bright in the room. She switched the flashlight off, but the light was still there, a thousand times brighter than the night-lights… and when it came to rest for a second, whispered Meggie, you saw it was a… She did not speak the word aloud. She just followed the light with her eyes as it flew around the room, very fast, faster than a glowworm and much larger.

"Fenoglio!" She couldn't hear any sound from the guard outside the door. Perhaps he'd gone to sleep. Meggie leaned over the side of the bunk until she could touch Fenoglio's shoulder. "Fenoglio, look!" She shook him until he finally opened his eyes. Suppose the little creature flew out of the window?

Meggie slid down from the top bunk and shut the window so quickly that she almost caught one of the shimmering wings in it. The fairy, alarmed, whirred away. Meggie thought she heard an indignant chirrup.

Fenoglio stared at the shining little creature, his eyes heavy with sleep. "What is it?" he asked hoarsely. "A mutated glow worm?"

Meggie went back to the bed without taking her eyes off the fairy, who was darting faster and faster around the little room like a lost butterfly, up to the ceiling, back to the door, over to the window again. She kept returning to the window. Meggie put the book on Fenoglio's lap.

"Peter Pan. " He looked at the book, then at the fairy, then at the book again.

"I didn't mean to do it!" whispered Meggie. "Really I didn't. "

The fairy kept colliding with the window again and again.

"No!" Meggie hurried over to her. "You mustn't go out! You don't understand. " It was a fairy, no longer than your hand, but still growing. It was a girl called Tinker Bell, exquisitely gowned in a skeleton leaf.

"Someone's coming!" Fenoglio sat up in such a hurry he hit his head on the top bunk. He was right. Out in the corridor footsteps were approaching: rapid, firm footsteps. Meggie retreated to the window. What did it mean? It was the middle of the night. Perhaps Mo's arrived, she thought, Mo is here. Although she didn't want to feel glad of it, her heart leaped with joy.

"Hide her!" whispered Fenoglio. "Quick, hide her!"

Meggie looked at him, confused. Of course. The fairy. They mustn't find her. Meggie tried to catch Tinker Bell, but the fairy slipped through her fingers and whirred up to the ceiling, where she hovered like a light made of invisible glass.

The footsteps were very close now. "Call that keeping watch?" It was Basta's voice. Meggie heard a hollow groan; he had probably woken the guard with a kick. "Unlock that door, and get a move on. I don't have forever. "

Someone put a key in the lock. "That's the wrong one, you dozy idiot! Capricorn wants to see the girl, and I'll tell him why he's had to wait so long."

Meggie climbed up on her bed. The bunk swayed alarmingly as she stood on it. "Tinker Bell!" she whispered. "Please! Come here!" But as she reached out her hand, the fairy flew back to the window – and Basta opened the door.

"Hey, where did that come from?" he asked, standing in the doorway. "It's years since I saw one of those fluttery things."

Meggie and Fenoglio said nothing – what was there to say?

"You needn't think you can wriggle out of telling me!" Basta took off his jacket and went slowly over to the window, holding the garment in his left hand. "You stand in the door way in case it gets away from me!" he told the guard. "And if you let it get past you I'll slice off your ears."

"Leave her alone!" Meggie slid hastily down from the bed again, but Basta moved faster. He threw his jacket. Tinker Bell's light disappeared, snuffed out like a candle. There was a faint twitching under the jacket as it fell to the floor. Basta picked it up carefully, holding it together like a sack, went over to Meggie, and stopped in front of her. "Well, sweetheart, let's hear your story," he said in a menacingly quiet voice. "Where did that fairy come from?"

"I don't know!" uttered Meggie without looking at him. "She – she was just suddenly here."

Basta looked at the guard. "Ever seen anything like a fairy in these parts?" he asked.

The guard raised the newspaper, to which a couple of dusty moth wings were still clinging, and slapped the door frame with it, smiling broadly. "No, but if I did I'd know what to do about it!" he said.

"You're right, those little creatures are as troublesome as midges. But they're supposed to bring luck. " Basta turned back to Meggie. "Now then, out with it! Where did she come from? I'm not asking you again. "

Meggie couldn't help it: Her eyes strayed to the book that Fenoglio had dropped. Basta followed her glance and picked it up.

"Well, fancy that!" he murmured as he looked at the picture on the cover. The artist had produced a good likeness of Tinker Bell. In real life she was a little paler and a little smaller than the picture suggested, but of course Basta still recognized her. He whistled softly through his teeth, then held the book close to Meggie's face. "Don't try telling me the old man read her out of this!" he said. "You did it. I'll bet my knife you did it. Did your father teach you how, or have you just inherited the knack from him? Well, it comes to the same thing. " He stuck the book in his waistband and grasped Meggie's arm. "Come along, we're going to tell Capricorn about this, l was really supposed to get you just to meet an old acquaintance, but I'm sure Capricorn will have no objection to hearing such interesting news. "

"Has my father come?" Meggie did not resist as he forced her out of the door.

Basta shook his head and looked ironically at her. "Him? No, he hasn't turned up yet, " he said. "Obviously he thinks more of his own skin than yours. I wouldn't be pleased with him if I were you. "

Meggie felt two emotions at once – disappointment as sharp as a prickle, and relief.

"I'll admit I'm rather disappointed in him, " Basta continued. "I swore he'd come looking for you, but I guess we don't need him anymore. Right?" He shook his jacket, and Meggie thought she heard a quiet, desperate tinkling.

"Lock the old man in, " Basta told the guard. "And if you're snoring again when I get back it will be the worse for you!"

Then he hauled Meggie down the corridor.