Free Inkdeath by Cornelia Funke

with him. There are some very interesting rumors about such survivors"

    "I’ll tell him if I see him," replied Fenoglio brusquely. "But I can’t think that he will want to talk to you. After all, I don’t SUppose he’d ever have met the White Women at all if you hadn’t been so willing to read him here for Mortola. Rosenquartz!" He strode to the door with as much dignity as was possible in his shabby boots. "I have some errands to run. See our guests out, and mind you keep away from that marten!"

    Fenoglio stumbled down the staircase to the yard almost as fast as he had on the day when Basta had paid him a visit. Mortimer would be waiting outside the castle gates already! Suppose Orpheus found him there when he went to the castle to tell the Milksop what he had heard? The Bluejay was the Governor’s mortal enemy.

    The boy caught up with him halfway downstairs. Farid. Yes, that was the name. Of course. Going senile, for sure.

    "Is Silvertongue really coming here?" he whispered breathlessly. "Don’t worry, Orpheus won’t give him away. Not yet! But Ombra is far too dangerous for him! Is he bringing Meggie with him?"

    "Farid!" Orpheus was looking down at them from the top of the stairs as if he were the king of the Inkworld. "If the old fool doesn’t tell Mortimer I want to speak to him, then you do it. Understand?"

    Old fool, thought Fenoglio. 0 ye gods of words, give them back to me so that I can get this damned Calf’s-Head out of my story!

    He wanted to give Orpheus a suitably cutting answer, but not even his tongue could find the right words now, and the boy impatiently hauled him away.

CHAPTER 6
SAD OMBRA

    Farid had told Meggie how difficult it was to get into Ombra now, and she had passed on everything he said to Mo. "The guards aren’t the harmless fools who used to stand there. If they ask you what you are doing in Ombra, think hard before you answer. Whatever they demand, you must stay humble and submissive. They don’t search many people. Sometimes you may even be lucky and they’ll just wave you through!"

    They weren’t lucky. The guards stopped them, and Meggie felt like clinging to Mo when one of the soldiers gestured to him to dismount and brusquely asked to see a sample of his craft. While the guard looked at the book of her mother’s drawings, Meggie Wondered in alarm whether she already knew the face under the Open helmet from her imprisonment in the Castle of Night, and whether he would find the knife hidden in Mo’s belt. They might kill him just for that knife. No one was allowed to carry weapons except the occupiers from Argenta, but Battista had made the belt so well that even the suspicious hands of the guard at the gate could find nothing wrong with it.

    Meggie was glad Mo had the knife with him as they rode through the ironbound gates, past the lances of the guards, and into the city that now belonged to the Adderhead.

    She hadn’t been in Ombra since she and Dustfinger first set out for the secret camp of the Motley Folk. It seemed an eternity ago that she had run through the streets with Resa’s letter telling her that Mortola had shot her father. For a moment she pressed her face against Mo’s back, so happy that he was back with her, alive and well. At last she would be able to show him what she’d told him so much about: Balbulus’s workshop and the Laughing Prince’s books. For one precious moment she forgot all her fears, and it seemed as if the Inkworld belonged only to him and her.

    Mo liked Ombra. Meggie could see it in his face, from the way he looked around, reining in his horse again and again to look down the streets. Although it was impossible to ignore the mark left on the city by the occupying forces, Ombra was still what the stonemasons had made of it when they first carved its gates, columns, and arches. Their works of art couldn’t be carried away and broken up —for then they’d be worth no more than the paving stones in the street. So stone