Page 14 of Inkheart


Darius nodded and bowed again, this time to Mo. ‘These – these are all stories with treasure in them,’ he stammered. ‘Finding them wasn’t as easy as I had expected,’ he added, with the faintest note of reproach in his voice. ‘After all, there aren’t so many books in this village. And however often I ask no one brings me any more, or if they do the books are useless. But never mind that – here they are. I think you’ll be happy with my choice, anyway.’ He knelt down on the floor in front of Mo and began setting out the books side by side, so that Mo could read the titles.

The very first one alarmed Meggie. Treasure Island. She looked uneasily at Mo. Not that one, she thought. Not that book, Mo. But Mo had already picked up another book: Tales From the Thousand and One Nights.

‘I think this will do,’ he said. ‘There’s sure to be plenty of gold in those stories. But I’m warning you again, I don’t know what will happen. Because it never does happen when I want it to. I know you all think I’m a magician, but I’m not. The magic comes out of the books themselves, and I have no more idea than you or any of your men how it works.’

Capricorn leaned back in his chair looking expressionlessly at Mo. ‘How many more times are you going to tell me that, Silvertongue?’ he asked in bored tones. ‘You can say so as often as you like, but I don’t believe it. In the world on which we finally slammed the door today I frequently mingled with magicians, wizards and witches, and I very often had to deal with their obstinacy. I know that Basta has given you a graphic account of the way we used to break their will. But in your case, and now that your daughter is here as our guest, I’m sure such painful methods will not be necessary.’ With these words, Capricorn looked pointedly at Basta.

Mo tried to hold on to Meggie, but Basta moved faster. Pulling her towards him, he quickly put an arm around her neck and held her in a headlock.

‘From now on, Silvertongue,’ continued Capricorn, his voice still sounding as indifferent as if he was talking about the weather, ‘from now on, Basta will be your daughter’s personal shadow. This will provide her with reliable protection from snakes and fierce dogs but not, of course, from Basta himself, who will be kind to her only as long as I say so. And that in turn will depend on whether I am pleased with your services. Have I made myself clear?’

Mo looked first at him and then at Meggie. She did her best to look unafraid, so that he would think there was no need to worry about her – after all, she had always been a better liar than he was. But this time he saw through the lie. He knew that her fear was as great as the fear she saw in his own eyes.

Perhaps all this is just a story too, thought Meggie desperately. And any moment someone will close the book because it’s so horrible and scary, and Mo and I will be back at home and I’ll make him a coffee. She closed her eyes very tight, as if that would make her thoughts come true, but when she peered through her lashes Basta was still standing behind her, and Flatnose was rubbing his squashed nostrils and turning his dog-like gaze on Capricorn.

‘Very well,’ said Mo wearily into the silence. ‘I’ll read aloud to you. But Meggie and Elinor can’t stay in here.’

Meggie knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking of her mother, and wondering who might disappear this time.

‘Nonsense. Of course they stay here.’ Capricorn’s voice was no longer careless. ‘And you’d better get started before the book there in your hand falls to dust.’

Mo closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Very well, but tell Basta to put his knife away,’ he said hoarsely. ‘If he hurts a hair of Meggie or Elinor’s heads I promise you I’ll read the Plague out of a book to infect you and your men.’

Cockerell looked at Mo in alarm, and a shadow passed over even Basta’s face, but Capricorn just laughed.

‘Let me remind you, Silvertongue, that you’re speaking of a contagious disease,’ he said. ‘And it doesn’t stop short at little girls. So never mind the empty threats, just start reading. Now. At once. And I want to hear something out of that book first!’

He pointed to the book that Mo had just laid aside.

Treasure Island.





18

Treasure Island


Squire Trelawney, Dr Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island … I take up my pen in the year of grace 17—, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.

Robert Louis Stevenson,

Treasure Island



And so Meggie heard her father read aloud, for the first time in nine years, in a draughty old church. Even many, many years later the smell of burnt paper would come back to her as soon as she opened one of the books from which he had read that awful morning.

It was chilly in Capricorn’s church – Meggie was to remember that later, too – although the sun must have been hot outside and high in the sky by the time Mo began to read. He simply sat down on the floor where he was, legs crossed, one book on his lap and the others beside him. Meggie quickly knelt down close to him before Basta could catch hold of her.

‘Here, get up these steps, all of you,’ Capricorn told his men. ‘And take the woman with you, Flatnose. Only Basta stays where he is.’

Elinor resisted, but Flatnose merely seized a handful of her hair and hauled her along after him. Capricorn’s men climbed the steps and sat at their master’s feet, Elinor among them like a pigeon with ruffled feathers in the middle of a mob of marauding crows. The only person who looked equally out of place was the thin reader, Darius, who was sitting at the very end of the row of black-clad men and kept fiddling with his glasses.

Mo opened the book on his lap and began leafing through it, frowning, as if searching the pages for the gold he was to read out of it for Capricorn.

‘Cockerell, you will cut out the tongue of anyone who utters the slightest sound while Silvertongue is reading,’ said Capricorn, and Cockerell drew a knife from his belt and looked along the row of men as if already selecting his first victim. All was so deathly quiet inside the red church that Meggie thought she could hear Basta breathing behind her. But perhaps it was only the sound of her own fear.

Judging by their faces, Capricorn’s men seemed to be feeling far from happy. They were looking at Mo with expressions of apprehension mingled with dislike. Meggie understood that only too well. Perhaps one of them would soon vanish into the book through which Mo was leafing so undecidedly. Had Capricorn told them that such a thing might happen? Did even he know it? What if she herself vanished, as Mo obviously feared? Or Elinor?

‘Meggie!’ Mo whispered to her, as if he had heard her thoughts. ‘Hold on to me tight any way you can.’ Meggie nodded, and clutched his sweater. As if that would be any use!

‘Yes, I think I’ve found the right place,’ said Mo into the silence. He cast a last glance at Capricorn, looked at Elinor, cleared his throat – and began to read.

Everything disappeared: the red walls of the church, the faces of Capricorn’s men, Capricorn himself sitting in his chair. There was nothing but Mo’s voice and the pictures forming in their minds from the letters on the page, like the pattern of a carpet taking shape on a loom. If Meggie could have hated Capricorn any more, she would have done so now. It was his fault that Mo had never once read aloud to her in all these years. To think of the magic he could have worked in her room with his voice, a voice that gave a different flavour to every word, made every sentence a melody! Even Cockerell had forgotten his knife and the tongues he was supposed to cut out, and was listening with a faraway expression on his face. Flatnose was staring into space, enraptured, as if a pirate ship with all sails set were truly cruising in through one of the church windows. The other men were equally entranced.

There was not a sound to be heard but Mo’s voice bringing the letters and words on the page to life.

Only one of his audience seemed immune to the magic of it. Face expressionless, pale eyes fixed on Mo, Capricorn sat there waiting: waiting for the clink of coins amidst the harmony of the words, for chests of damp wood heavy with gold and silver.

Mo did not keep him waiting long. It happened as he was reading what Jim Hawkins – a boy not much older than Meggie when he embarked on his terrifying adventure – saw in a dark cave:

… Georges, and Louises, doubloons and double guineas and moidores and sequins, the pictures of all the kings of Europe for the last hundred years, strange Oriental pieces stamped with what looked like wisps of string or bits of spider’s web, round pieces and square pieces, and pieces bored through the middle, as if to wear them round your neck – nearly every variety of money in the world must, I think, have found a place in that collection; and for number, I am sure they were like autumn leaves, so that my back ached with stooping and my fingers with sorting them out.

The maidservants were cleaning the last crumbs off the tables when coins suddenly came rolling over the bare wood. The women stumbled back, dropping their dish-cloths, and pressing their hands to their mouths as the coins tumbled and leaped about their feet. Gold, silver and copper coins jingled over the flagstone floor, clinking as they gathered in heaps under the benches – more and more and more of them. Some rolled as far as the steps. Capricorn’s men came to life, bent to pick up the glittering little things bouncing off their boots – but then snatched back their hands. None of them dared touch the magic money. For what else could it be? Gold made of paper and printer’s ink – and the sound of a human voice.

As the shower of gold stopped, at the very moment when Mo closed the book, Meggie saw there was a little sand among all the gleaming, glittering money. A few iridescent blue beetles scuttled away, and the head of an emerald-green lizard emerged from a heap of tiny coins. It stared around with fixed eyes, tongue flicking out of its sharp little mouth. Basta threw his knife at it, as if he could skewer not just the lizard but the cowardice that had seized them all. However, Meggie gave a warning cry, and the lizard darted away so fast that the tip of the blade struck the stones. Basta ran over to his knife, picked it up, and pointed it threateningly in Meggie’s direction.

Capricorn rose from his chair, his face still as cold and blank as if nothing worth getting excited about had happened, and clapped his ringed hands graciously. ‘Not bad for a start, Silvertongue!’ he said. ‘See that, Darius? That’s what gold looks like – not the rusty, dented metal you’ve read out of books for me. But now you’ve heard how the thing is done I hope you’ll have learnt from it. Just in case I ever require your services again.’

Darius did not reply. His eyes were fixed on Mo with such admiration in them that it wouldn’t have surprised Meggie had he flung himself at her father’s feet. When Mo straightened up, Darius approached him hesitantly.

Capricorn’s men were still gazing at the gold as if they didn’t know what to do next.

‘What are you standing there for, gaping like a lot of sheep?’ cried Capricorn. ‘Pick it up. Go on.’

‘That was wonderful!’ Darius whispered to Mo, while Capricorn’s men cautiously began shovelling the coins into bags and boxes. His eyes were gleaming behind his glasses like the eyes of a child who has just been given a much-wanted present. ‘I’ve read that book many times,’ he said, in a voice that shook, ‘but I never saw it all as vividly as I did today. And I didn’t just see it … I smelled it, the salt and the tar and the musty odour of the whole accursed island …’

‘Treasure Island! Heavens above, I was petrified!’ Elinor appeared behind Darius, pushing him impatiently aside. Flatnose had obviously forgotten her for the moment. ‘He’ll be here any minute, that’s what I kept thinking. Long John Silver will be here, lashing out at us with his crutch.’

Mo just nodded, but Meggie could see the relief on his face. ‘Here, take it!’ he told Darius, handing him the book. ‘I hope I never have to read out of it again. One shouldn’t push one’s luck.’

‘You said his name not quite right every time,’ Meggie whispered.

Mo tenderly stroked the bridge of her nose. ‘Ah, so you noticed,’ he whispered back. ‘Yes, I thought that might help. Perhaps the savage old pirate won’t feel we’re calling to him then, I told myself, and he’ll stay where he belongs. Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Why do you think?’ said Elinor, answering instead of Meggie. ‘Why is she looking so admiringly at her father? Because no one ever read aloud like that – even apart from the money. I saw it all, the sea and the island, as clear as if I could touch it, and I don’t expect it was any different for your daughter.’

Mo had to smile. He kicked aside a few of the coins on the floor in front of him. One of Capricorn’s men picked them up and surreptitiously pocketed them. As he did so, he looked at Mo as uneasily as if he feared a word from him might turn him into a frog, or one of the beetles still crawling around among the coins.

‘They’re afraid of you, Mo!’ whispered Meggie. She could see the trepidation even on Basta’s face, although he was doing his best to hide it by assuming a particularly bored expression.

Only Capricorn seemed to be left cold by what had happened. Arms folded, he stood there watching his men pick up the last of the coins. ‘How much longer is this going to take?’ he asked finally. ‘Leave the small change where it is and sit down again. And you, Silvertongue, open the next book!’

‘The next book!’ Elinor’s voice almost cracked with indignation. ‘What on earth’s the idea of that? The gold your men are shovelling up there is enough to last you at least two lifetimes. We’re going home now!’

She was about to turn round, but Flatnose, who had finally remembered he was meant to be guarding Elinor, seized her arm roughly. Mo looked up at Capricorn.

Basta, smiling unpleasantly, laid his hand on Meggie’s shoulder. ‘Get on with it, Silvertongue!’ he said. ‘You heard. There are still plenty of books here.’

Mo looked at Meggie for a long time before bending to pick up the book he had chosen first: Tales From the Thousand and One Nights.

‘The book that goes on and on forever,’ he murmured, opening it. ‘Did you know the Arabs say no one can read it right through to the end, Meggie?’

She shook her head as she sat down beside him on the cold flagstones. Basta let her, but he planted himself right behind her. Meggie didn’t know much about The Thousand and One Nights, except that it was really a book in many volumes. The copy that Darius had given Mo could only be a small selection. Were Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves in it, and Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp? Which story would Mo read?

Meggie thought she saw contradictory feelings on the faces of Capricorn’s men: fear of what Mo might bring to life and, at the same time, a wish, a yearning almost, to be carried away by his voice once more, transported far away to a place where they could forget everything, even themselves.

There was no smell of salt and rum when Mo began reading this time. The air in Capricorn’s church grew hot. Meggie’s eyes began to burn, and when she rubbed them she found sand sticking to her knuckles. Once again, Capricorn’s men listened to Mo’s voice with bated breath, as if they were turned to stone. Capricorn alone seemed to feel nothing of the magic. But his eyes showed that even he was spellbound. They were fixed on Mo’s face, as unmoving as the eyes of a snake. His red suit made his pupils look even more washed out, and his body seemed tense, like a dog scenting its prey. But this time Mo disappointed him.

The words offered up no riches, none of the treasure chests, pearls and swords set with precious stones that Mo’s voice conjured up, shining and sparkling, until Capricorn’s men felt as if they could pluck them from the air. Something else slipped out of the pages, though, something breathing, a creature made of flesh and blood.

A boy was suddenly standing between the still smouldering braziers where Capricorn had burned the books. Meggie was the only one to notice him. All the others were too absorbed in the story. Even Mo didn’t see him, far away as he was, somewhere in the sand and the wind as his eyes made their way through the labyrinth of letters.

The boy was some three or four years older than Meggie. The turban round his head was dirty, his eyes dark with fear in his brown face. He blinked and rubbed them as if he could wipe it all away – the wrong picture, the wrong place. He looked round the church as if he had never seen such a building before, and how could he? There wouldn’t be any churches with spires in his story, or green hills like those he would see outside. The robe he wore went down to his brown feet, and in the dim light of the church it shone blue as a patch of the sky.

Meggie wondered: what will happen when they see him? He’s certainly not what Capricorn was hoping for.

But Capricorn had already noticed the boy.

‘Stop!’ he commanded, so sharply that Mo broke off in mid-sentence and raised his head.

Abruptly, and rather unwillingly, Capricorn’s men returned to reality. Cockerell was the first on his feet. ‘Hey, where did he come from?’ he growled.

The boy ducked, looked round with a terrified expression, and ran for it, doubling back and forth like a rabbit. But he didn’t get far. Three men immediately sprang forward and caught him at the feet of Capricorn’s statue.

Mo put the book down on the flagstones beside him and buried his face in his hands.

‘Hey, Fulvio’s gone!’ cried one of Capricorn’s men. ‘Vanished into thin air!’ They all stared at Mo. There it was again, the nervousness in their faces, but this time mingled not with admiration but with anger.

‘Get rid of that boy, Silvertongue!’ ordered Capricorn angrily. ‘I have more than enough of his kind. And bring Fulvio back.’

Mo took his hands away from his face and stood up.

‘For the millionth time, I can’t bring anyone back,’ he said. ‘The fact that you don’t believe me doesn’t make that a lie. I can’t do it. I can’t decide who or what comes out of a book, nor who goes into it.’

Meggie reached for Mo’s hand. Some of Capricorn’s men came closer, two of them holding the boy. They were pulling on his arms as if to tear him in half. Eyes wide with terror, the boy stared into their unfamiliar faces.

‘Back to your places!’ Capricorn ordered the angry men. A couple of them were already dangerously close to Mo. ‘Why all this fuss? Have you forgotten how stupidly Fulvio acted on the last job? We almost had the police down on us. So it’s the right man to have gone. And who knows, perhaps this lad will turn out to have a talent for arson. All the same, I want to see pearls now. And gold and jewels. After all, they’re what this story is all about, so let’s have some!’

An uneasy murmuring rose among the men. Nonetheless, most of them returned to the steps and perched once more on the worn treads. Only three still stood in front of Mo, staring at him with intense hostility. One of them was Basta. ‘Very well, so we can dispense with Fulvio,’ he said, never taking his eyes off Mo. ‘But who is this wretched wizard going to magic into thin air next time? I don’t want to end up in some thrice-accursed desert story and find myself going around in a turban all of a sudden!’ The men standing near him nodded in agreement, and looked at Mo so darkly that Meggie almost stopped breathing.

‘Basta, I won’t tell you again.’ Capricorn’s voice sounded menacingly calm. ‘Let him go on reading, all of you. And anyone whose teeth start chattering with fear had better go outside and help the women with the laundry.’

Some of the men looked longingly at the church door, but none