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Sitting between Mo and her gie thought for a er, and wondered whether perhaps Capricorn had been telling the truth after all Maybe he really was dead and buried somewhere in the hills I ht, as one of the blue fairies rocked back and forth on a twig above her, its face bland and happy

The whole village see andround the car park looked as if they had escaped from the dreams of children and not the words of an oldthe night: where was Fenoglio now, and did he like it in his own story? She so randchildren and their games of hide-and-seek in his kitchen cupboard

Before Meggie’s eyes closed, she saw Elinor walking about a happier than she had ever seen her And her own parents were sitting to the left and right of Meggie, her , on leaves from the trees, on the fabric of her dress, in the sand There were so many words, so many tales to tell

58

Homesickness

Yet Bastian knew he couldn’t leave without the book It was clear to him that he had only come to the shop because of this book It had called him in some mysterious way, because it wanted to be his, because it had soed to hi Story

Dustfinger watched it all froh from the scene of Capricorn’s festivities for hih for hih the binoculars he had found in Basta’s house At first he hadHe had seen the Shadow kill too often already Yet a strange feeling, as irrational as Basta’s good-luck char that he could protect the book just by his presence When he slipped into the alley he felt so else too He didn’t like to adh the same binoculars that Basta himself had so often turned on his future victims

So he sat on the tiles of a dilapidated roof, his back against the cold chimney, his face blackened with soot (for the face is treacherously pale by night), and watched smoke rise into the sky from Capricorn’s house He saw Flatnose set out with several e froround, he saw the old man disappear with an expression of infinite amazement on his face, and he saw Capricorn die the death he himself had summoned Unfortunately Basta did not die as well, which was really annoying Dustfinger saw hipie follow hier the spectator, saw it all

He had often been just a spectator, and this was not his story What were they to hihter, the boy, the bookworm, and the woman as another man’s wife once more? She could have escaped with hihter, so he had thrust her out of his heart as he always did with anyone who tried to stay there too long He was glad that the Shadow hadn’t taken them all, but they were none of his business any ue all the wonderful stories that drove away loneliness and hoain Why should it bother him?

But what about the fairies and the brownies suddenly stu around the scene of Capricorn’s festivities? They were as out of place in this world as he was – and they too wouldn’t let hiet that he was still here for one reason alone He was interested only in the book, nothing but the book, and when he saw Silvertongue hide it under his jacket he decided to get it back The book at least would be his It es, and if he closed his eyes at the saain

The old man was there now, the old man with the wrinkled face Crazy If only you hadn’t been so afraid, Dustfinger, he thought bitterly But you’re a coward and you alill be Why wasn’t it you standing beside Capricorn? Why didn’t you venture down? Then perhaps you would have disappeared back into the book instead of the old s and milky white face had flown after hiht of her reflection in ashe lingered, s in front of it, oblivious to all else She turned and preened in the air, ran her fingers through her hair and exaain The fairies he had known had not been particularly vain On the contrary, so their tiny faces with uess which of theht to catch er They could make me invisible It would be wonderful to be invisible now and then Or a troll – I could make him part ofin a furry suit No one can stand on his head as long as a troll, no one can make faces so well either, and those funny little dances they do – yes, why not?

When the er was still sitting on the roof, the fairy with the butterfly wings grew iry as she flew round him What did she want? Did she want him to take her back where she came fros and people understood their language?

‘You’ve picked the wrong irl down there, and the man beside the woman with the dark blonde hair? They’re what you need, but Ipeople into their world, and not so good at sending theain Still, you can try! Maybe you’ll have better luck than me’

The fairy turned in the air, looked down, cast hier saw her brightnessaround and chasing each other through the branches of the trees They were so forgetful No grief or sorrow lived longer than a day in their little heads – and, who knows, perhaps the et that this was not their own story

Faint light was co into the sky by the time they were all asleep down there Only the boy kept watch He was a suspicious boy, always on his guard, always careful except when he played with fire Dustfinger couldn’t help ser face, and the way he had burned his lips when he secretly took the torches from his rucksack The boy would be no probleue and Resa were asleep under a tree with Meggie between the bird in a war in her sleep Dustfinger had never seen her look so happy One of the fairies was lying curled up like a caterpillar on her breast, with Elinor’s hand around it The fairy’s face was not ht shone between Elinor’s strong fingers like the light of a captive star

Farid stood up as soon as he saw Dustfinger coed to one of Capricorn’s men

‘You--you’re not dead?’ Farid breathed incredulously He still wore no shoes, which was hardly surprising, for he had always been falling over the shoelaces, and tying a bow had presented him with problems