Inkheart

50. NO LUCK FOR ELINOR

Elinor had been driving for more than an hour before she finally reached a town with its own police station. The sea was still some way off, but the hills were lower, and vines grew on the slopes rather than the undergrowth and trees that grew on the hills around Capricorn's village. It was terribly hot, even hotter than the day before, and when Elinor got out of the car she heard a distant rumble of thunder that sounded as if a great beast were lurking somewhere beyond the hills. The sky above the houses was a blue as dark as deep water – an ominous blue…

Don't be silly, Elinor, she told herself as she made for the pale yellow building that was the police station. There's a storm coming, that's all. Not getting as superstitious as that man Basta, are you?

There were two officers in the small police station. They had hung their uniform jackets over their chairs. Despite the big fan whirring around under the ceiling, the air was so muggy it could have been bottled.

The younger of the two men, who was broad and snub-nosed like a pug dog, laughed at Elinor when she told her story, and asked whether she looked so red in the face, Perhaps, because she liked the local wine a little too much. Elinor would have tipped him off his chair if his companion hadn't calmed her down. The second officer was a tall, thin man with a melancholy expression and dark hair thinning above his fore head. "Stop that, " he told the other policeman. "At least let her finish her story. " He listened unmoved as Elinor told them about Capricorn's village and the Black Jackets, frowned when she started talking about fire-raising and dead roosters, and when she came to Meggie and the planned execution he raised his eyebrows. She said nothing, of course, about the book and just how the execution was to be carried out. Only two weeks ago she wouldn't have believed a word of it herself.

When she had finished, the tall man said nothing for a while. He rearranged the pencils on his desk, tidied some papers, and finally looked at her thoughtfully. "I've heard about that village before, " he said.

"Naturally, everyone's heard of it!" mocked the other officer. "The devil's village, the accursed village, even the snakes avoid it. The walls of the church are painted with blood and Black Jackets, who are really ghosts and carry fire in their pockets, haunt the streets. You only have to get near them and you go up in smoke – whoosh!" He raised his hands and clapped them above his head.

Elinor looked at him icily. His colleague smiled, but then rose with a sigh, laboriously put on his jacket, and signed to Elinor to follow him. "I'm going to take a look at this," he said over his shoulder.

"Might as well, if you've nothing better to do!" the other man called after him, laughing so uproariously that Elinor felt like going back to tip him off his chair after all. A little later she was in the passenger seat of a police car, and the road along which she had come was winding its way through the hills. Why on earth, she kept thinking, didn't I do this before? Everything will be all right now, everything. No one will be shot or executed, Meggie will get her father back, and Mortimer will be reunited with his daughter. Yes, everything will be all right, thanks to Elinor! She could have sung and danced (not that she was much of a dancer and she was sitting in a car). She had never in her life felt so pleased with herself. Now, who could say she didn't know how to cope with the real world?

The policeman beside her said nothing. He just kept his eyes on the road, taking bend after bend at a speed that made Elinor's heart beat painfully fast. Occasionally, he absentmindedly kneaded his right earlobe. He seemed to know the way and never hesitated when the road branched or passed any turning. Elinor could not help thinking how long it had taken her and Mo to search for the village. Suddenly, a disturbing thought came into her mind.

"There are quite a lot of them, " she said in an uncertain voice, just as they were taking another bend so fast they came alarmingly close to the abyss yawning on her left. "I mean, this Capricorn has a lot of men. And they're armed, even if they're not particularly good shots. Might it be a good idea to ask for reinforcements?" That was what people did in stupid films about cops and robbers – the police were always asking for reinforcements.

The policeman with her ran his hand through his sparse hair and nodded as if he had already thought of that. "Yes, of course, " he said, reaching for his radio. "Reinforcements won't hurt, but they'd better keep in the background. The first thing is to ask a few questions."

Over the radio, he asked for five men. Not many against Capricorn's Black Jackets, thought Elinor, but better than nothing, certainly better than a desperate father, an Arab boy, and an overweight book collector.

"There it is!" she said as Capricorn's village appeared in the distance, gray and insignificant looking amidst all the dark green.

"Yes, that's what I thought, " replied the policeman, after which he was silent again. When he just nodded to the guard in the parking lot Elinor simply refused to believe the worst. Only when they were standing in front of Capricorn, and he was handing her over like lost property being restored to its rightful owner, was she forced to admit to herself that nothing was going to turn out well after all. Everything was ruined now – and oh, how stupid she had been, how dreadfully stupid.

"She's spreading slander about you, " he heard the police man tell Capricorn, avoiding Elinor's eyes. "Something about child abduction. And there was talk of fire-raising…"

"All nonsense!" replied Capricorn, answering the unspoken question in a bored voice. "I love children – as long as they don't come too close to me. Children and business don't mix. "

The policeman nodded and looked unhappily at his hands. "And she said something about an execution…"

"Did she indeed?" Capricorn looked Elinor up and down as if amazed by such fantasies. "Well, as you know, I have no call for anything of that nature. People do as I say without my having to resort to such drastic measures."

"Of course, " murmured the policeman, nodding. "Of course. "

He couldn't wait to leave. As his rapid, clipped footsteps died away Cockerell, who had been sitting on the steps, laughed. "He has three small children, right? It ought to be compulsory for all policemen to have small children. That one was a pushover! Basta just had to stand outside the school twice. What about it – should we pay him another visit, to refresh his memory?"

Capricorn shook his head. "I don't think that will be necessary. Let's just think about what to do with our guest here. How should we deal with someone who tells such shocking lies about us?"

Elinor felt weak at the knees as he turned his colorless eyes on her. If Mortimer offered to read me into some book now, any book, she thought, I'd accept. I wouldn't even want to pick and choose.

Three or four black-clad men were standing behind her, so trying to run away was pointless. All you can do is submit to your fate with dignity, Elinor, she told herself. But reading about such a thing was much easier than doing it.

"The crypt or the sheds?" asked Cockerell, strolling up to her. The crypt, thought Elinor. Dustfinger said something about that. And it was nothing nice.

"The crypt? Why not? We have to dispose of her, or who might she bring here next?" Capricorn hid a yawn behind his hand. "Very well, we'll give the Shadow a little more work to do this evening. He'll like that."

Elinor wanted to say something – something bold and heroic – but her tongue wouldn't work. It just lay there in her mouth, numb. Cockerell had already hauled her as far as that ridiculous statue when Capricorn called him back.

"I quite forgot to ask her about Silvertongue!" he cried. "Ask her if she happens to know where he is at the moment."

"Well, come on, out with it!" growled Cockerell, seizing her by the nape of the neck as if to shake the answer out of her. "Where is he?"

Elinor tightened her lips. Quick, Elinor, quick, she told herself, think of a good answer. And suddenly her tongue was working again.

"Why ask me?" she said to Capricorn, who was still sitting in his chair as pale as if he had been left in the wash too long or the sun burning down out in the square had bleached him. "You should know! He's dead. Your men shot him – and the boy. " Look at him, Elinor, she thought. Look him straight in the face the way you used to look at your father when he caught you with the wrong book. A few tears would come in useful, too. Go on, just think of your books, all your burnt books! Think of last night, the fear, the despair – and if none of that works pinch yourself!

Capricorn was gazing at her thoughtfully.

"There!" Cockerell called to him. "I knew we'd hit him!"

Elinor was still looking at Capricorn, a blurred sight through the veil of her false tears.

"We'll see, " he said slowly. "My men are searching the hills for an escaped prisoner. I don't suppose you're going to tell me where they should look for the two bodies?"

"I buried them, and I'm certainly not saying where." Elinor felt a tear running down her nose. By all the letters of the alpha bet, Elinor, she told herself, there's a great actress lost in you!

"Buried them. Well, well. " Capricorn played with the rings on his left hand. He was wearing three at once, and he adjusted them, frowning, as if they had gotten out of line without his permission.

"That's why I went to the police, " said Elinor. "To avenge them. And my books. "

Cockerell laughed. "You didn't have to bury those books, right? They burned beautifully, like the very best firewood, and their pages – ah, they quivered like pale little fingers. " He raised his hands and imitated the movement. Elinor hit him in the face with all her might, and she was quite strong. Blood flowed from Cockerell's nose. He wiped it away with his hand and looked at it as if he were surprised to see something so red coming out of him. "Look at that!" he said, showing Capricorn his bloodstained fingers. "You wait, she'll give the Shadow more trouble than Basta."

When he led her away Elinor walked beside him with her head held high. Only when she saw the steep stairway disappearing into a bottomless black hole did her courage forsake her for a moment. The crypt, of course, now she remembered – the place where they put the condemned. That was what it smelled like, anyway, damp and moldy, just as one imagines the odor of death.

At first, Elinor couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Basta's wiry figure pressed up against the iron bars. She had thought she must have misheard Cockerell's last remark, but sure enough, there was Basta shut up in the cage like an animal, with all the fear and hopelessness of a trapped beast in his eyes. Even the sight of Elinor did not cheer him. He looked straight through her and Cockerell, as if they were two of the ghosts he feared so much.

"What's he doing here?" asked Elinor. "Have you taken to locking each other up now?"

Cockerell shrugged. "Should I tell her?" he asked Basta, who responded with nothing but the same glazed stare. "First he let Silvertongue escape, and now Dustfinger. That's a sure way to ruin your chances with the boss, even if you do think you're his personal pet. And, of course, it's been years since you managed to light a decent fire." He smiled maliciously at Basta.

Signora Loredan, it's time to think about making a will, Elinor told herself as Cockerell pushed her into the crypt. If Capricorn intends to kill his most faithful dog, he's certainly not going to stop short at you.

"Hey, you might look a bit more cheerful!" Cockerell told Basta as he fished a bunch of keys out of his jacket pocket. "You've got two women for company now!"

Basta pressed his forehead against the grating. "Haven't you caught the fire-eater yet?" he croaked. His voice sounded as if he had shouted himself hoarse.

"No, but the fat woman here says we did hit Silvertongue. Says he's dead as a doornail. Sounds like I winged him after all. Well, I have had plenty of practice on the cats."

Behind the door with the grating that Cockerell unlocked for her something moved. A woman was sitting there in the dark, leaning back against something that looked suspiciously like a stone coffin. Elinor could not see the woman's face, but then the figure straightened up.

"Company for you, Resa!" called Cockerell as he pushed Elinor through the open door. "You two can have a nice chat!" He was laughing uproariously as he trudged away. As for Elinor, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She would rather have seen her favorite niece again anywhere but here.