Inkdeath

39. STOLEN CHILDREN

It was snowing, tiny icy flakes, and Meggie wondered whether her father could see the snowflakes falling from wherever he was held captive. No, she told herself, the dungeons of Ombra lie too deep under the castle, and the idea that Mo was missing his first sight of snow in the Inkworld made her almost as sad as knowing that he was a prisoner.

Dustfinger was protecting him, as the Black Prince had so often assured her. Battista and Roxane kept saying so as well. But Meggie could think of nothing but the Piper, and how frail and young Violante had looked beside him.

The Adderhead was only two days' journey away now, so Nettle had said yesterday. Two days, and everything would be decided.

Two days.

The Strong Man drew Meggie to his side and pointed through the trees. Two women were looking for a way through the snow-covered thickets. They had a couple of boys and a girl with them. The children of Ombra had been disappearing one by one ever since the Bluejay gave himself up. Their mothers took them out into the fields, down to the river to do their laundry, into the forest to look for firewood – and came back alone. There were four places where the Prince's men waited for the children. News of their whereabouts was passed on from mouth to mouth, and there was a woman as well as a robber waiting at each of those places, so that it wouldn't be too hard for the children to let go of their mothers' hands.

Resa, Battista, and Gecko were receiving them at the infirmary run by the Barn Owl. Roxane and Elfbane waited at the place where the healers gathered the bark of oak trees. Two more women met children by the river, and Meggie, with Doria and the Strong Man, waited for them in a charcoal-burner's abandoned hut not far from the road to Ombra.

The three children hesitated when they saw the Strong Man, but their mothers led them on, and when Doria caught a couple of snowflakes on his outstretched tongue the youngest, a girl of about five, began giggling.

"Suppose we just make the Piper angry again by hiding them with you?" asked the child's mother. "Suppose he's given up any idea of taking the children away now the Bluejay is his prisoner? It was all about the Bluejay, wasn't it?"

Meggie could have hit her for the coldness in her voice.

"Yes, and this is his daughter!" said the Strong Man, putting a protective arm around Meggie's shoulders. "So don't talk as if you didn't care what became of him! You'd never have gotten your child back but for her father, have you forgotten that already? But the Adderhead will still need children for his mines, and yours would be easy prey."

"That's his daughter? The witch?" The other woman drew her children close to her, but the girl looked curiously at Meggie.

"You sound like the Adder's men!" The Strong Man held Meggie more firmly, as if to ward off the words. "What's the matter with you? Do you want to know your children are safe or don't you? You can always take them back to Ombra and hope the Piper doesn't come knocking at your door!"

"But where are you taking them?" The younger woman had tears in her eyes.

"If I told you, you'd be able to give it away." The Strong Man put the smaller boy up on his shoulders as if he weighed no more than a fairy.

"Can we come, too?"

"No, we can't feed so many. It will be difficult enough to fill the children's bellies."

"And how long do you mean to hide them for?" How desperate every word sounded.

"Until the Bluejay has killed the Adderhead."

The women looked at Meggie.

"How can he possibly do that?"

"He'll kill him, you wait and see," replied the Strong Man, and his voice sounded so confident that for a precious moment even Meggie forgot all her fears for Mo. But the moment passed, and once again she felt the snow on her skin, as cold as the end of all things.

Doria put the little girl on his back and smiled at Meggie. He was tireless in his efforts to cheer her up. He brought her berries hard with frost, flowers covered with rime – the last flowers of the year – and made her forget her troubles by asking her about the world she came from. She was beginning to miss him when he wasn't near her.

The little girl cried when the women left, but Meggie stroked her hair and told her what Battista had said about the snow: Many of the snowflakes, he had told her, were tiny elves who kissed your face with icy lips before melting on your warm skin. The child stared up at the whirling snow, and Meggie went on talking, letting the words comfort her, too, while the world around turned white, letting herself go back to the days when Mo used to tell her stories – before he was part of a story himself. It was a long time since Meggie had been able to say whether it was her story as well.

The snow did not fall for long and left only a fine, light dusting on the cold ground. Twelve more women brought their children to the abandoned charcoal-burner's hut, their faces full of anxiety and concern, and full of doubt, too. Were they doing the right thing? Some of the children didn't even look back at their mothers as the women left, others ran after them, and two cried so hard that their mothers took them away again, back to Ombra where the Piper was waiting for them like a silver spider in its web. By the time darkness fell, nineteen children stood under the trees with their powdering of snow, huddled together like a flock of goslings. The Strong Man looked like a giant beside them as he signaled to them to go with him. Doria conjured acorns out of their little noses and plucked coins from their hair when one of them started crying. The Strong Man showed them how he listened to the birds, and let three children ride on his shoulders all at once.

As for Meggie, she told them stories as darkness fell over them, stories Mo had told her so often that she thought she heard his voice with every word she spoke. They were all exhausted by the time they reached the robbers' camp. The place was teeming with children. Meggie tried to count them, but soon gave up. How were the robbers to fill so many mouths, when the Black Prince could hardly feed his own men?

What Snapper and Gecko thought of all this showed only too clearly in their faces. Nursemaids, that was the whisper going around the camp. Is this what we went into the forest for? Snapper, Gecko, Elfbane, Woodenfoot, Wayfarer, Blackbeard… many of them were saying so. But who was the slightly built man with the gentle face standing beside Snapper, looking around as if he had never seen his surroundings before? He looked like… no. No, it couldn't be true. Meggie rubbed her eyes. She was obviously so tired that she was seeing ghosts. But suddenly two strong arms went around her, hugging her so hard that she gasped for air.

"Why, just look at you! You're almost as tall as me now, you shameless girl!"

Meggie turned.

Elinor.

What was happening? Had she lost her mind? Had it all been nothing but a dream, and now she was waking up? Would the trees dissolve next, would everything disappear – the robbers, the children – and she'd see Mo standing beside her bed asking if she intended to sleep right through breakfast?

Meggie pressed her face into Elinor's dress. It was velvet, and looked like a theatrical costume. Yes, she was dreaming. Definitely. But then what was still real? Wake up, Meggie! she told herself. Come on, wake up!

The slightly built stranger standing next to Snapper smiled shyly at her as he held his twisted spectacle frame up to his eyes, and yes, it really was Darius!

Elinor hugged her again, and Meggie began to cry. She wept into Elinor's peculiar dress, shedding all the tears she had been holding back since Mo rode to Ombra Castle.

"Yes, yes, I know! It's just terrible," said Elinor as she awkwardly stroked Meggie's hair. "You poor thing. I've already given that scribbler fellow a piece of my mind. Conceited old fool! But you wait, your father will show that silver-nosed fiddler a thing or two!"

"He's the Piper." Meggie had to laugh although the tears went on running down her face. "The Piper, Elinor!"

"Well, whatever! How's anyone supposed to remember all these strange names?" Elinor looked around her. "That Fenoglio deserves to be hung, drawn, and quartered for all this, but of course he doesn't see it that way. I'm glad we'll be able to keep an eye on him now. He refused to let Minerva come here on her own, I suppose just because he couldn't stand the thought of not having her to cook and mend for him!"

"You mean Fenoglio's here, too?" Meggie wiped her tears away.

"Yes. But where's your mother? I can't find her anywhere."

Meggie's face seemed to show that she still wasn't on good terms with Resa, but Battista came between them before Elinor could ask her about that.

"Bluejay's daughter, will you introduce me to your splendidly dressed friend?" He bowed to Elinor. "To what guild of the strolling players do you belong, gracious lady? Let me guess. You're an actress. Your voice would surely fill any marketplace!"

Elinor stared at him in such horror that Meggie quickly came to her aid. "This is Elinor, Battista – my mother's aunt…"

"Ah, one of the Bluejay's family!" Battista bowed even lower. "Presumably that information will keep Snapper there from wringing your neck. He's trying to convince the Black Prince that you and this stranger" – he indicated Darius, who joined them with a shy smile – "are spies of the Piper's."

Elinor spun around so abruptly that she drove her elbow into Darius's stomach. "The Black Prince?" She blushed like a girl as she saw him and his bear standing with Snapper. "Oh, he's magnificent!" she breathed. "And so is his bear – the bear looks just the way I imagined him! Ah, this is all so wonderful, so incredibly wonderful!"

Meggie felt her tears drying up. She was so glad Elinor was here, so very glad indeed.