Dawn was breaking outside by the time she finally fell asleep, but the nightmares hadn't finished with her yet. They grew especially fast in the gray time between night and day, spinning an eternity out of seconds. One-eyed ogres and giant spiders stole into Meggie's sleep, hounds of hell, witches who ate children, all the bugbears she had ever met in stories. They crept out of the box that Mo had made her and jumped from the pages of her favorite books. Even the monsters came out of the picture books that Mo had given her before she knew the alphabet. They danced through Meggie's dream, brightly colored and shaggy, their wide mouths smiling, baring their pointed little teeth. There was the Cheshire Cat she had always been so afraid of, and here came the Wild Things that Mo liked so much he had hung a picture of them in his work shop. How huge their teeth were! Dustfinger would be crunched between those fangs like a cracker. But just as one of them was stretching out his claws, the one with eyes as big as saucers, a new figure came out of the gray void, hissing like a flame, ashen-gray and faceless, seized the Wild Thing, and tore it into scraps of paper.
"Meggie!"
The monsters vanished, and the sun was shining on Meggie's face. Fenoglio was standing beside her bed. "You were dreaming."
Meggie sat up. The old man's face looked as if he hadn't closed his eyes all night and he had several new wrinkles. "Where's my father, Fenoglio?" she asked. "Oh, why doesn't he come?"
41. FARID
Ali Baba… was surprised to see a well-lighted and spacious chamber… filled with all sorts of provisions, rich bales of silks, embroideries, and valuable tissues, piled upon one another, gold and silver ingots in great heaps, and money in bags. The sight of all these riches made him suppose that this cave must have been occupied for ages by robbers, who had succeeded one another.
"The Story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves, "
from The Arabian Nights' Entertainments, translated by Edward William Lane
Farid stared at the dark until his eyes hurt, but Dustfinger did not return. Sometimes Farid thought he saw his scarred face among the low-growing branches. Sometimes he thought he heard his almost silent footsteps on the dead leaves, but he was always wrong. Farid was used to listening to the sounds of the night. He had spent endless hours doing so back in his other life, when the world around him was not green but brown and yellow. His eyes had often let him down, but he had always been able to rely on his ears.
All the same, Farid listened in vain that night, the longest night of his life. Dustfinger didn't come back. When day began to dawn above the hills Farid went to the two captives, gave them water, a little of the dry bread they still had left, and a few olives.
"Come on, Farid, untie us!" said Silvertongue as Farid put the bread in his mouth. "Dustfinger should have been back by now, you know he should have. "
Farid said nothing. He loved to hear Silvertongue's voice. It had lured him out of his old, wretched life, but it seemed that Dustfinger didn't like it anymore, he didn't know why – and Dustfinger had told him to keep watch on the prisoners. He had said nothing about untying them.
"Look, you're a clever lad, " said the woman, "so use your head for a moment, will you? Are you going to sit here until Capricorn's men come and find us? What a sight we'll be: a boy watching two captives who can't lift a finger to help him. They'll fall over laughing. "
What was she called again? Eli-nor. Farid had difficulty remembering the name. It was awkward as a pebble on his tongue, and sounded like the name of an enchantress from a far distant land. He thought her unnatural; she looked at him as a man might look, without timidity or fear, and her voice could be very loud and as angry as a lion's roar.
"We have to get down to the village, Farid!" said Silver tongue. "We must find out what's happened to Dustfinger – and where my daughter is. "
Yes, the girl – the girl with the clear, bright eyes, little pieces of sky fallen to the earth and caught in her dark lashes. Farid poked the ground with a stick. An ant was carrying a bread crumb bigger than itself past his toes.
"Perhaps he doesn't understand what we're saying, " said Elinor.
Farid raised his head and cast her a glance of annoyance. "Yes, I do. I understand everything. " And so he had, from the first moment, as if he had never heard any other language. He remembered the red church. Dustfinger had explained that it was a church, although Farid had never seen such a building before. He also remembered the man with the knife. There had been a great many such men in his old life. They loved their knives and did terrible things with them.
"You'll run off if I untie you. " Farid looked uncertainly at Silvertongue.
"No, I won't. Do you think I'd leave my daughter down there with Basta and Capricorn?"
Basta and Capricorn. Yes, those had been the names. The knife man and the man with the eyes as colorless as water. A robber, a murderer… Farid knew all about him. Dustfinger had told him a great deal as they sat together by the fire in the evening. They had exchanged sad stories, although both of them longed for one with a happy ending.
Now this story was growing darker with each day that passed, too.
"It'll be better if I go alone. " Farid dug the stick so hard into the ground that it broke in his fingers. "I'm used to slinking into strange villages, strange palaces, and houses – it was my job in the old days. If you know what I mean. "
Silvertongue nodded.
"They always sent me, " Farid went on. "Who'd be afraid of a thin young boy? I could sniff around everywhere without arousing suspicion. When did the guards change? Which was the best way of escape? Where did the richest man in the village live? If all went well they gave me enough to eat. If it didn't they beat me like a dog. "
"They?" asked Elinor.
"The thieves, " replied Farid.
The two adults fell silent. And Dustfinger still wasn't back. Farid looked toward the village and saw the first rays of the sun rising above its rooftops.
"Very well. You may be right," said Silvertongue. "You go down alone and find out what we need to know, but first untie us. If you don't we won't be able to help you if they do catch you. And I don't fancy sitting here tied up like this when the first snake wriggles past. "
The woman looked as frightened as if she already heard it rustling through the dead leaves. But Farid looked thought fully at Silvertongue's face, trying to decide whether his eyes could trust him as his ears already did. Finally, he stood up without a word, took the knife Dustfinger had given him from his belt, and cut them both free.
"My God, I'm never letting anyone tie me up like that again!" said Elinor, rubbing her arms and legs. "I feel as numb as a rag doll. How are you, Mortimer? Can you still feel your feet?"
Farid looked at her curiously. "You don't look like his wife. Are you his mother?" he asked, nodding in Silvertongue's direction.
Elinor's face came out in more red blotches than a toad stool. "Good Lord above, no! What makes you think that? Do I really look so old?" Glancing down at herself, she sighed.
"Yes, I probably do. All the same, I'm not his mother. I'm not Meggie's mother either, in case that's your next question. My children were all made of paper and printer's ink, and that man, " she said, pointing to the rooftops of Capricorn's village shining through the trees, "that man down there destroyed a great many of them. Believe me, he'll regret it. "
Farid looked at her doubtfully. He couldn't imagine Capricorn being afraid of a woman, certainly not one who got out of breath when she climbed a hill and was scared of snakes. No, if the man with the pale eyes feared anything it would be what most people feared – death. And Elinor didn't look as if she knew much about killing. Nor did Silvertongue.