62. WHERE TO?

I dreamt a limitless book,

A book unbound,

Its leaves scattered in fantastic abundance

On every line there was a new horizon drawn,

New heavens supposed;

New states, new souls.

Clive Barker, Abarat


Farid was waiting by the statue, as they had agreed. He had hidden behind it – obviously he still found it hard to believe that he was invisible – and he hadn't managed to get a sight of Meggie. Dustfinger could tell from his voice; it was husky with disappointment. "I got into the tower, I even saw the cell, but it's just too well guarded. And in the kitchen they were saying she's a witch and she'll be killed along with her father!"

"Well, what did you expect they'd be talking about? Did you hear anything else?"

"Yes, something about Firefox. They said he'll send Cosimo back to the dead."

"Ah. Nothing about the Black Prince?"

"Only that there are people looking for him, but they haven't found him. They say he and his bear can exchange shapes, so that sometimes the bear is the Prince and the Prince is the bear. And they say he can fly and make himself invisible, and that he's going to rescue the Bluejay!"

"Really?" Dustfinger laughed quietly. "The Prince will like that. Right, come on. It's time for us to be off."

"Be off?" Dustfinger felt Farid's fingers clutching his arm. "Why? We could hide. The castle's so big, no one would find us."

"You think so? What would you do here anyway? Meggie wouldn't go with you even if you could magic her through locked doors. Have you forgotten the deal she was offering the Adderhead? Resa says it will take Silvertongue a few weeks to bind a book, and the Adderhead won't hurt a hair of his head or Meggie's until he has that book, will he? So come on! It's time we looked for the Prince. We must tell him about Sootbird."

Outside, it was still as dark as if morning would never come. This time they slipped through the castle gate together with a troop of men-at-arms. Dustfinger would have liked to know where they were going so late at night. Let's hope they're not hunting the Prince, he thought, cursing Sootbird for his treacherous heart.

The men-at-arms galloped off down the road leading away from Mount Adder into the mountains. Dustfinger was standing there watching them go when something furry suddenly jumped up at him. Taken by surprise, he stumbled into the structure of one of the gallows. Two feet were swinging back and forth above him. But Gwin clung to his arm as naturally as if his master had always been invisible.

"Damn it all!" His heart was in his mouth as he seized the marten. "You'll be the death of me yet, you little beast, won't you?" he hissed at him. "Where did you spring from?"

As if in answer, Roxane stepped out of the shadow of the castle walls. "Dustfinger?" she whispered as her eyes searched for his invisible face. Jink appeared behind her and raised his nose, sniffing.

"Yes, who did you think?" He guided her on with him, pressing her close to the wall so that the sentries on the battlements couldn't see her. This time he didn't ask why she had followed them. He was too glad that she was there. Even if the expression on her face reminded him for a moment of Resa and her sadness. "There's nothing we can do here for the moment," he whispered. "But did you know that Sootbird is a welcome guest in the Castle of Night?"

"Sootbird?"

"Yes. It's bad news. You ride back to Ombra and see to Jehan and Brianna. I'll go and look for the Black Prince and warn him of this cuckoo in the nest."

"And how are you going to find him?" Roxane smiled, as if she could see his baffled face. "Shall I take you to him?"

"You?"

"Yes." Up above, the guards called something to one another. Dustfinger drew Roxane even closer to the wall. "The Prince cares for his Motley Folk very well," she whispered. "And as I'm sure you can imagine, he doesn't always earn the money he needs for cripples and old folk, widows and orphans, by doing tricks in marketplaces. His men are skillful poachers and the terror of tax-gatherers, they have hiding places all over the forest, in Argenta and Lombrica alike, and there are often sick or wounded men there… Nettle will have nothing to do with robbers, nor will the moss-women, and they don't trust most physicians. So some time ago they began coming to me. I'm not afraid of the forest, I've been in its darkest corners with you. Arrow wounds, broken bones, a bad cough – I know how to cure all those, and the Prince trusts me. I was always Dustfinger's wife to him, even when I was married to another man. Perhaps he was right."

"Was he?" Dustfinger spun around. Someone was clearing his throat in the darkness.

"Didn't you say we must be gone before the sun rises?" Farid's voice sounded reproachful.

By fire and fairies, he'd forgotten the boy! And Farid was right. Morning couldn't be far away, and the shadow of the Castle of Night was not the best place to discuss dead husbands.

"Very well. Catch the martens!" Dustfinger whispered into the night. "But don't, for heaven's sake, scare me to death like that again, understand? Or I'll never let you make yourself invisible again."

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