Inkdeath

‘Ah, so you were eavesdropping. Good."



Good? What did that mean?



Orpheus stroked back his pale hair. "I’m sure you know where Mortimer is hiding at the moment, don’t you?"



"Of course not! No one— "Spare me the lies!" snapped Orpheus. "Go to him. Tell him why his wife came to see me, and ask if he’s prepared to pay the price I demand for my words. And if you want to see Dustfinger again, the answer you bring me back had better be yes. Understand?"



"The Fire-Dancer’s dead!" Nothing in Brianna’s voice showed that she was speaking of her father.



Orpheus gave a little laugh. "Well, so was Farid, my beauty, but the White Women were ready to do a deal. Why wouldn’t they do the same thing again? It just has to be made attractive to them, and I think I now know how. It’s like fishing. You only need the right bait."



What kind of bait did he mean? What was more desirable to the White Women than the Fire-Dancer? Farid didn’t want to know the answer. All he wanted was to think that all might yet end well. That bringing Orpheus here had been right after all.



"What are you standing around for?" Orpheus shouted down at him. "Get moving!



And you," he added to Brianna, "bring me something to eat. I think it’s time for a new Bluejay song. And this time I, Orpheus, will write it!"



Farid heard him humming to himself as he returned to his study.



CHAPTER 19



SOLDIERS’ HANDS



Ombra seemed more than ever like a city of the dead as Resa went back to the stable where she had left her horse. In the silence among the buildings she kept hearing Orpheus saying the same words over and over again, as clearly as if he were walking behind her: But I hope that when his head’s on a spike above the castle gates you’ll remember I could have kept him alive. Her tears almost blinded her as she stumbled through the night. What was she to do? Oh, what was she to do? Go back? No.



Never.



She stopped.



Where was she? Ombra was a labyrinth of stone, and the years when she had known her way around its narrow streets were long gone.



Her own footsteps echoed in her ears as she walked on. She was still wearing the boots she’d had on when Orpheus had read Mo and her here. He had almost killed Mo once already. Had she forgotten that?



A hiss overhead made her jump. It was followed by a dull crackling; above the castle the night turned as scarlet as if the sky had caught fire. Sootbird was entertaining the Milksop and his guests by feeding the flames with alchemical poisons and menace until they writhed, instead of dancing as they used to for Dustfinger.



Dustfinger. Yes, she wanted him to come back, too, and her heart froze when she imagined him lying among the dead. But it froze even more when she thought of the White Women reaching their hands out to Mo for a second time. Yet wouldn’t they come for him anyway, if he stayed in this world? Your husband will die in this story.



What was she to do?



The sky above her turned sulfurous green; Sootbird’s fire had many colors. The street down which she was walking, faster all the time, ended in a square she had never seen before. Dilapidated houses stood here. A dead cat lay in one doorway. At a loss, she went over to the well in the middle of the square and spun around when she heard footsteps behind her. Three men moved out of the shadows among the buildings. Soldiers wearing the Adderhead ‘s colors.



Now what? she wondered. She had a knife with her, but what use was that against three swords? One of the men had a crossbow, too. She had seen only too often what bolts from such a weapon could do. You should have worn men’s clothes, she told herself. Hasn’t Roxane told you often enough that no woman in Ombra goes out after dark, for fear of the Milksop’s men?



"Well? I suppose your man’s as dead as all the rest, right?" The soldier facing her was not much taller than she was, but the other two towered more than a head above her.



Resa looked up at the houses; but who was going to come to her aid? Fenoglio lived on the other side of Ombra, and Orpheus well, even if he could hear her from here, would he and his gigantic servant help her after she’d refused to do a deal with him?



Try it, Resa. Scream! Perhaps Farid at least will come and help you. But her voice failed her, as it had when she’d lost it in this world for the first time. . . .



Only one window showed a light in the surrounding houses. An old woman put her head out, and hastily retreated when she saw the soldiers. Resa seemed to hear Mo saying, "Have you forgotten what this world is made of?" So if it really consisted only of words, what would those words say about her? But there was a woman there who was lost twice in the Inkworld, and the second time she never found her way back again.



Two of the soldiers were now right behind her. One of them put his hands on her hips. Resa felt as if she had read about what was now happening already somewhere, sometime. . . . Stop trembling, she told herself. Hit him, claw at his eyes! Hadn’t Meggie told her how to defend herself if something like this ever happened?



The smallest of the three men came close to her, a dirty, expectant smile on his narrow lips. What did it feel like to get pleasure out of other people’s fear?



"Leave me alone!" At least her voice was obeying her again. But no doubt such voices were often heard in Ombra by night.



"Why would we want to do that?" The soldier behind her smelled of Sootbird’s fire.



His hands reached out for her. The others laughed. Their laughter was almost the worst thing of all. Through the sound of it, however, Resa thought she heard something else. Footsteps light, quick footsteps. Farid?



"Take your hands off me!" This time she shouted it as loud as she could, but it wasn’t her voice that made the men spin around.



"Let her go. At once.



Meggie’s voice sounded so grown-up that at first Resa didn’t realize it was her daughter’s. She walked out from among the houses, holding herself very upright, just as she had walked into the arena that was the scene of Capricorn’s festivities. The soldier holding Resa dropped his hands like a boy caught doing something wrong, but when he saw no one but a girl step out of the darkness he made a grab for his victim again.



"Another one?" The smaller man turned and sized up Meggie. "All the better. See that, you two? What did I tell you about Ombra? It’s a place full of women, so it is!"



Stupid words, and they were his last. The knife thrown by the Black Prince hit him in the back. Like shadows coming to life, the Prince and Mo emerged from the night.



The soldier holding Resa pushed her away and drew his sword. He shouted a warning to the other man, but Mo killed them both so quickly that Resa felt she hadn’t even had time to draw breath. Her knees gave way, and she had to lean against the nearest wall. Meggie ran to her, asking anxiously if she was injured. But Mo just looked at her.



"Well? Is Fenoglio writing again?" That was all he said. He knew why she had ridden here. Of course.



"No!" she whispered. "No, and he won’t write anything, either. Nor will Orpheus."



The way he was looking at her! As if he didn’t know whether he could believe what she said. He’d never looked at her like that before. Then he turned without a word and helped the Prince to haul the dead men away into a side street.



"We’re going back through the dyers’ stream!" Meggie whispered to her. "Mo and the Prince have killed the guards there."