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Dustfinger spat out one last fireball into the air – its size made even the bravest in the audience step back – then he put down the torches and picked up his juggling balls He threw theh in the air that the spectators had to tilt their heads right back to watch, then caught theain with his knee They rolled along his ared from behind his back as if he had plucked them out of ehtless, dancing little things … it would all have seeaer’s face That re balls, as if it had nothing to do with his dancing hands, nothing to do with their skill, nothing to do with their carefree lightness Meggie wondered whether his fingers still hurt They looked red, but perhaps that was just the firelight

When Dustfinger bowed and put his balls back in the rucksack the spectators were slow to disperse, but finally only Mo and Meggie were left Farid was sitting on the paving stones counting the money he had collected He looked happy – as if he had never done anything else in his life

‘So you’re still here,’ said Mo

‘Why not?’ Dustfinger was collecting his props: the two bottles he had used in Elinor’s garden, the burnt-out torches, the bowl into which he spat and whose contents he now tipped carelessly out on the pave; the old one was probably still in Capricorn’s village Meggie went over to the rucksack, but Gasn’t in it

‘I’d hoped you’d be well away by now, going back north or soer shrugged his shoulders ‘I have to earn some money first Anyway, I like the weather here better, and the people are ht, Farid? How er turned to him Farid had put aside the dish with thematchstick in his er suppressed a s to play with fire I’ve shown him how to make little practice torches, but he’s in too much of a hurry He has blisters on his lips all the tinoring the, but she felt sure he was listening to every word they said She met his eyes twice, those dark eyes, and the second time he turned away so abruptly that he alo carefully with that, will you?’ snapped Dustfinger impatiently

‘I hope there’s no other reason why you’re still here?’ asked Mo as Dustfinger turned back to hiaze ‘Oh, that You think I o back for the book You overestimate me I’m a coward’

‘Nonsense!’ Mo sounded irritated ‘Elinor will be hoer looked impassively at Mo’s face ‘So why aren’t you with her?’

Mo looked at the buildings around them and shook his head ‘There’s soer put on a short-sleeved shirt, a bright gare flowers It didn’t suit his scarred face

‘There’s soer’s face reave hi the buttons of his shirt through the buttonholes ‘That’s impossible!’ he said hoarsely ‘Capricorn would never have overlooked one’

Mo shrugged ‘Maybe not, but I’ about doesn’t sell books either new or second-hand Capricorn probably doesn’t even know he exists’

Dustfinger looked round So houses, and on the other side of the square a few children were playing about a the chairs of a restaurant until a waiter shooed them away There was a ser used in his fiery games, but no black-cladwaiter as straightening the chairs

‘So, who is this er lowered his voice to little more than a whisper

‘The man rote Inkheart He lives not far fro the silver dish with the er ‘And we don’t have anything to tes?’

‘No, he can look after hier over one of his scars ‘Put the– you know, the one in ie would have given Mo a hurt look if he had spoken to her like that, but Farid didn’t seeht it was all over, no way to get back ever again …’ Dustfinger broke off and looked up at the sky A plane crossed the horizon, coloured lights blinking Farid looked up at it too He had put theexpectantly beside the rucksack So its claws into his trouser legs and cla his hand into his trouser pocket and offered Gwin a piece of bread

‘Suppose there really is still a copy?’ Dustfinger pushed his long hair back froive me another chance? Will you try to readin his voice that it went to Meggie’s heart

But Mo’s face was not forthcoo back, not into that book!’ he said ‘I know you don’t want to hear n yourself to it Perhaps I can help you soot an idea – rather crazy, but still …’ He said no more, just shook his head and kicked an eie looked at Mo in surprise What kind of idea? Did he really have one, or was he just trying to coer was looking at hiers had left a little soot on his face when he stroked his scar ‘I’o to visit this hter behind the to cli as if there were nothing better than to have ainto his scalp

‘Well, he’s not hoer ‘I asked hi a hand at his surroundings, ‘all this appeals to hilad to be here You’ve obviously done hiave her father as he said these words was so reproachful that Meggie instinctively reached for Mo’s hand

Gwin had ju curiously at the road surface One of the children who had been ro the tables bent down and looked incredulously at the little horns But before the child could put a hand out to touch, Farid quickly intervened, picked Gwin up and put the marten back on his shoulders