Inkdeath

But Snapper, sitting under the trees with Gecko only a little way off, laughed hoarsely. "Your brother’s as big a fool as you!" he called over to the Strong Man.



"It’s his bad luck he doesn’t have your muscles, so I guess he won’t live to be very old. The Bluejay is finished! And what does he leave behind as his legacy? The immortal Adderhead!"



The Strong Man clenched his fists and was about to go for Snapper, but Doria pulled him back when Gecko drew his knife and rose to his feet. The two of them often quarreled, but suddenly they both raised their heads and listened. A jay was calling in the oak above them.



"He’s back! Meggie, he’s back!" Farid climbed down from his lookout post so fast that he almost lost his balance.



The fire had burned low, only the stars shone down into the dark ravine where the robbers had pitched their new camp, and Meggie didn’t see Mo until Woodenfoot limped over to him with a torch. Battista and the Black Prince were with him. They all seemed unharmed. Doria turned to her. Well, Bluejay’s daughter, his smile seemed to be saying, what did I tell you?



Resa jumped up in such haste that she stumbled over her blanket. She made her way through the crowd of robbers standing around Mo and the Prince. As if in a dream, Meggie followed her. It was too good not to be a dream.



Mo was still wearing the black clothes that Battista had made him. He looked tired, but he did indeed seem to be uninjured. "It’s all right. Everything’s all right," Meggie heard him say as he kissed the tears from her mother’s face, and when Meggie was there in front of him he smiled at her as if this were their old life and he had only been on a short journey to cure a few sick books not Come from a castle where people wanted to kill him.



"I’ve brought you something," he whispered to her, and only the Way he hugged her so tight and for so long told her that he had been as frightened as she was. "Leave him alone, will you?" the Black Prince told his men as they Crowded around Mo, wanting to know how the Bluejay had escaped from Ombra Castle as well as the Castle of Night. "You’ll hear the Story Soon enough. And now, double the guard."



They reluctantly obeyed, sat around the dying fire grumbling, or disappeared into the tents that had been patched together out of pieces of fabric and old clothes, offering only scant shelter from nights that were growing colder all the time. But Mo beckoned Meggie and Resa over to his horse and delved into the saddlebags. He brought out two books, handling them as carefully as if they were living creatures.



He gave one to Resa and one to Meggie —and laughed when Meggie snatched hers so quickly that she almost dropped it.



"It’s a long time since the two of us had a book in our hands, right?" he whispered to her with an almost conspiratorial smile. "Open it. I promise you, you never saw a more beautiful book."



Resa had taken her book, too, but she didn’t even look at it. "Fenoglio said that illuminator was the bait for you," she said in an expressionless voice. "He told us they arrested you in his workshop."



"It wasn’t exactly what it seemed. As you can see, no harm came of it. Or I wouldn’t be here, would I?"



Mo said no more, and Resa asked no further questions. She didn’t say a word when Mo sat down on the short grass in front of the horses and drew Meggie down beside him.



"Farid?" he said, and Farid left Battista, whom he was obviously trying to question about events in Ombra, and went over to Mo with the same awe on his face that Meggie had seen on Doria’s.



"Can you make some light for us?" Mo asked, and Farid kneeled down between them and made fire dance on his hands, although Meggie could clearly see that he didn’t understand how the Bluejay could sit there right after his narrow escape from the Milksop’s soldiers, showing his daughter a book before he did anything else.



"Did you ever see anything so beautiful, Meggie?" Mo whispered as she caressed one of the gilded pictures with her finger. "Apart from the fairies, of course," he added with a smile as one of them, pale blue like the sky Balbulus painted, settled drowsily on the pages.



Mo shooed away the fairy as Dustfinger had always done, by blowing gently between her shimmering wings, and Meggie, beside him, bent her head over the pages and forgot her fears for him. She forgot Snapper, she even forgot Farid, who didn’t so much as glance at what she couldn’t tear her own eyes away from: lettering in sepia brown, as airy as if Balbulus had breathed it onto the parchment, dragons, birds stretching their long necks at the heads of the pages, initials heavy with gold leaf like shining buttons among the lines. The words danced with the pictures and the pictures sang for the words, singing their colorful song.



"Is that Her Ugliness?" Meggie laid a finger on the finely drawn figure of a woman.



There she stood, slender beside the written lines, her face barely half the size of Meggie’s little fingernail, yet you could see the pale birthmark on her cheek.



"Yes. And Balbulus made sure she’ll still be recognized many hundreds of years from now." Mo pointed to the name that the illuminator had written in dark-blue ink, clearly visible above the tiny head: Violante. The V had gold edging as fine as a hair.



"I met her today. I don’t think she deserves her nickname," Mo Went on. "She’s rather too. pale, and I think she could bear a grudge for a long time, but she fears nothing."



A leaf landed on the open book. Mo flicked it away, but it clung to his finger with thin, spidery arms. "Well, how about this!" he said, holding it up to his eyes. "Is it one of Orpheus’s leaf-men? His creations obviously spread fast."



"And they’re seldom very nice," said Farid. "Watch out. Those creatures spit."



"Really?" Mo laughed softly and let the leaf-man fly away just as it was pursing its lips.



Resa watched the strange creature go and abruptly straightened up. "It’s all lies," she said. Her voice shook on every word. "This beauty is only a lie. It’s just meant to take our minds off the darkness, all the misfortune and all the death."



Mo put the book on Meggie’s lap and got to his feet, but Resa stepped back.



"This isn’t our story!" she said, in a voice loud enough for some of the robbers to turn and look at her. "It’s draining our hearts with all its magic. I want to go home. I want to forget all these horrors and not remember them until I’m back on Elinor’s sofa!"



Gecko had turned, too. He stared curiously at them while one of his crows tried to snatch a piece of meat from his hand. Snapper was listening as well.



"We can’t go back, Resa," said Mo, lowering his voice. "Fenoglio isn’t writing anymore, remember? And we can’t trust Orpheus."



"Fenoglio will try to write us back if you ask. He owes it to you. Please, Mo! There can’t be any happy ending here!"



Mo looked at Meggie, who was still kneeling beside Farid with Balbulus’s book on her lap. What was he hoping for? Did he want her to contradict her mother?



Farid glared at Resa and let the fire between his fingers go out. "Silvertongue?"



Mo looked at him. Yes, he had many names now. What had it been like when he was only Mo? Probably Meggie couldn’t remember, either.



"I must go back to Ombra. What am I to say to Orpheus?" Farid looked at him almost pleadingly. "Will you tell him about the White Women?" There it was again, like fire burning on his face — his foolish hope.