Author's Note:

Hi all,

The story's back up yay!

For new readers, this story had been up for three years before I deleted it to do some editing. It originally had over 200! reviews and I want to thank everyone who reviewed. Skyridge, Leona, Lillianne, Misan, Patches of the fallen, NoMoreDaydreams, Mana Black, everyone who reviewed as a Guest and ALL the others. THANK YOU! Your reviews were lovely and motivating. I'm sorry they got erased by me deleting the story. I know you took the time to write the reviews. They might not exist anymore but I remember them up here *taps brain*. I also want to thank everyone who put me on their author follow list. It just showed how much people liked the story and it made me all warm inside. It also made me determined to get this story back up as soon as possible so voila! I want to give a special thank you to Skyridge for all the laughs she's given me in her reviews and PM chats. Love ya internet buddy! Please check out her deviant art Pandora-Soup 'cause she did a picture for meee and eventually she will have fanfiction up under the name McShmickley so keep an eye out! Also a shout out to CupidityRising, thank for your lovely PMs and please check out her Basta fanfiction Inkblood!

Enjoy the newly-edited Paper Maid folks! I'll try to get ALL the chapters back up as soon as possible. And write new some new ones too!

Kisses,

Charivari

Chapter 1

When Dafne reflected back on the events of the day gone past, she wished that she had never opened the door of Signor Orazio's home. Although, she supposed even her own actions wouldn't have prevented the book's theft. If she hadn't answered the door, the three men would have thought the place unoccupied and would have broken the door down or smashed windows to get it. But if she hadn't made her presence known, maybe she could have hidden from them and waited until they'd left. If she had only had the foresight, she might have avoided being kidnapped along with the book the men had stolen. But then, how was she to have known the intentions of the three strangers she had welcomed inside. They had been dressed in black uniforms (only one of them wore a white shirt and he acted as their spokesperson) and she had mistaken them for book collectors.

Her employer, Signor Orazio was a retired publisher and had recently donated several books from his personal collection to a local library. They were children's books, most were editions that had been printed by his company and had once belonged to his children. As all his children had left home, Signor Orazio had thought they would be more useful to "young boys and girls and not an old man like me", he had said with a smile. The books had meant to be collected on the same day that the three men appeared and Dafne had thought the library had sent them. Signor Orazio had left the house some hours before on his way to a luncheon. He had instructed Dafne that if someone came for the books in his absence, she could oversee their transfer and gave her the key to his study where the books were awaiting their voyage nestled together in a box.

Signor Orazio had been living alone when Dafne had come to work for him. His wife had recently passed and without her consistent housekeeping, Dafne had arrived to a house in disarray. It was at the insistence of his concerned children that he hire a maid for they themselves lived a distance away. Her interview had taken place in his study where he sat, pawing absent-mindedly at a copy of Ovid's poetry amid a fortress of dirty cutlery piled on his desk. Despite his disorganisation, Dafne had liked him immediately for he was a kind gentleman whose intelligence was laced with good humour. She had also seen that he was a man restless with loneliness. Signor Orazio had obviously felt the same way for he hired her the next day and from then on, the two had become quite close.

Dafne had attended school but despite graduating, her reading skills were poor. Signor Orazio, on the other hand, had a voracious appetite for books and learning and had immediately encouraged Dafne to improve her literacy. In the evenings after Dafne had cleared away dinner, they retired to Signor Orazio's study for reading sessions. Her laboriously slow reading had initially embarrassed her but Signor Orazio had proved to be infinitely patient and under his tutelage, she had flourished. But now, the thought that the man who Dafne loved like a doting grandfather might now consider her a thief was almost unbearable.

It was the man behind the driver's wheel who had planted the terrible seed of thought inside her head. His name was Basta, likely a pseudonym or foreign for she had never heard that name before. The other two under his command had similarly strange monikers, Cockerell and Flatnose. Odder names she had not encountered outside of fiction. Basta was currently driving to a destination unknown to her and referred to as "the village", an uninformative title. She had also heard the name Capricorn. Regardless of where the three men were taking her, she knew that she had to find a way to escape - with the book. She didn't understand the importance of book called Inkheart, nor did she recall ever reading it. She supposed it might have been valuable but then again, Signor Orazio was the owner of many rare books. Surely they would have also been targeted if the trio's motive had been robbery.

But when Dafne had shown them into Signor Orazio's study, they hadn't even batted an eyelid at the contents of the rest of his impressive library. As soon as she had indicated the box containing the books for donation, Basta gone over to it, selected a book, scrutinised the cover and then discarded it carelessly on the floor with a noise of disgust. At this action, Dafne immediately saw her error although she did not fully comprehend it. When she raised her voice in alarm, he had signalled to the others who took hold of her.

"Aw, you were being so helpful and you've just gone and spoilt it," Cockerell had drawled at her, "Too bad, for you at least, now I get to have some real fun."

But Basta had interrupted any action he was about to take, saying,

"Don't do anything yet, we still have to find the book. Bring her over her, will you."

It was with certain reluctance that Cockerell obeyed him, dragging Dafne over to where Basta was still in the process of searching the box. Discarded books lay on the floor around him like dead birds with their wings stretched out. Dafne felt a flash of anger at the scene. How dare he do this to Signor Orazio's books! As if he were aware of her feelings, Basta purposely flicked a book in her direction. It landed at her feet with a depressing thud. She stared at it. The Hobbit. They had read that one together. The memory made her eyes sting. She looked at Basta who smiled lazily, as if his actions were of no consequence to him.

"I know you probably don't think too highly of us coming in here and knocking about your master's precious books. Not to mention the guns pointed at you. But we're looking for something particular. A very special book. And the sooner we find it, the sooner we'll leave,"

When he spoke, Dafne caught a faint whiff of peppermint. A curious smell she hadn't expected ever to associate with the fear she felt for this man, especially then as he drew a knife from his belt, "So it would be your best interests to help us find it."

Dafne tried to be brave like the heroines from books with their blazing eyes and clever retorts, but when she spoke, she couldn't prevent her voice from trembling, "Why, why would I help you. Look at w-what you've done." In response, Basta flicked his knife open and her eyes bulged at the sight of its wicked edge. His next words were low but she caught all of them.

"You haven't even seen the tip of what I'm capable of," He murmured as he moved the blade up to rest upon her cheek. It was cold and it was like its touch drew all the warmth from her body, leaving her frozen in place, "I'm not shy about making some adjustments to that pretty little face of yours, although it would be a pity. Like I said, I don't need your help but it will be a lot less painful for you if you did. Understand?"

Under the caress of steel, what else could she do but submit to his demands. She had never been particularly courageous and the thought of pain terrified her. She never been threatened before and these men looked as though it was their career. She thought of Signor Orazio. It felt like a betrayal to assist these thieves but she was completely helpless. Even if she could break free of their hold, there was nothing in the study she could use to defend herself. Books were no match for guns and knives, no matter what heroic deeds were inscribed on their pages. So with the full knowledge of the futility of her situation, she surrendered with a nod of her head. The knife withdrew from her cheek and though it left no cut, the spot where it had been felt akin to numbness. Basta sounded pleased at this acquiescence.

"Good, you've made the right choice. The book's name is Inkheart. Go ahead and find it for me." He instructed, indicating the box with his knife.

Despite her cooperation, the other two shoved Dafne towards it. She peered inside. There were many books still inside it, unharmed by Basta. She began shifting through them. She recognised some that she had read, plots she remembered, characters as well. She didn't fling them from box as Basta had done. She took them out and placed them in a neat pile. Basta gave a snort of impatience at her careful handling and told her to "hurry up".

She found Inkheart as she neared the bottom and brought it out slowly like drawing a bucket from a deep well. She irrationally played with possibility of concealing it from them, of disguising it with the rest and telling them that it wasn't there. Maybe they would leave if they couldn't find it. No, she thought, they're not about to leave empty-handed and if they don't get what they want, they're liable to do more damage. But as soon as she had held it up, Basta snatched it from her. He obviously recognised the title and now that it was in his clutches, he gripped it possessively as if it were some sort of prize.

"Yes, this is the one," He said triumphantly, "Capricorn is going to very pleased, very pleased indeed." He kicked the box and it rolled over with the remaining books tumbling out. With a cry of protest, Dafne dropped down, restored the box to its original position and began gathering the books up. She glared at Basta who stared back at her with the amusement of a naughty child who had knocked over his toys and was watching his mother picking them up.

Cockerell had laughed, "She reminds me of Darius, the way he holds his books like they were babies." Basta turned away from Dafne, cradling the books protectively in her lap, and addressed his two companions,

"Let's go before someone turns up. You two do a sweep, I'll be waiting in the car."

"What about the girl?" Flatnose asked. Basta looked at Dafne again, his eyes trailing over her.

"We'll take her with us. Capricorn always wants new maidservants and she's pretty enough. Besides she's already trained."

"I'm not going anywhere," said Dafne, trying to make her voice sound strong but only succeeded in making it louder.

"Aw, why not pussycat," Cockerell jeered in a false sad voice. Flatnose sniggered. Basta didn't join in on their amusement. His eyes were still fixed on her and he leant down to her level. She immediately shrunk away from him. In his proximity, she inhaled peppermint on his breath. When he spoke it was with a surprising earnestness that was no less terrifying to her,

"You should be happy. It's an honour to work for Capricorn. Anyway, it's not like your old boss will want you around anymore."

This confused her, "Why, why wouldn't he?" She asked, not wanting to know the answer.

"Well, think about it, you've just been complicit in a robbery. What's he going to think when he comes home and finds you here instead of his book? A book that was supposed to go to..." There was a mocking tone in his voice, "Poor little children. What's he going to think of you when you tell him that you just let us come in and take it."

"He-he'll understand," said Dafne but even she didn't sound convinced. After all, hadn't she been the one who had let them in? Unlocked the study for them? This was all her fault. "That you forced me."

Basta laughed, "Well maybe he will, but then again..." His face was so close she could study his features. They weren't at all as unpleasant as his character. His mouth formed a smile, "He might not." He straightened up and with a casual shrug, said "Either way, you're coming with us. I'm just trying to make you feel better about it."

He reached out to her and though she tried to evade his touch, he grabbed her arm. She tried to resist as he pulled her to her feet but his strength prevailed. The force caused the books she had been holding to jerk out of her grip. They joined their fallen comrades on the floor. Basta had a powerful grip and with little effort, he dragged her across the room to the door.

She looked over her shoulder to see a horrible sight. Cockerell and Flatnose had lighters and were holding books above the flames so they could catch alight. They had a look of glee stamped on their coarse faces. Dafne screamed and began twisting to break loose from Basta. She had to stop them from burning Signor Orazio's books. But Basta held firm and shoved her through the doorway just as the flames began devouring the pages. She let out a sob.

Basta pushed her through the house, her own steps stumbling as her eyes were filled with tears and she had no will to make any movement of her own. They burst through the front doorway where she had ill fatedly welcomed the men in. Down the steps they went, towards a black car parked on the sidewalk. On reaching the car, he thrust her against its side, pinning her there whilst he found his keys. He threw open door of the backseat, shoved her inside, slammed it shut and leant against the doorframe.

She sat there, her face wet with tears. Her arm throbbed from Basta's grip but she was only dimly aware of the pain. She thought she might scream, to alert someone but if anyone were to come, they would probably be no match for Basta and his knife. She might open the door of the other side and clamber out. She grabbed the handle and jiggled it roughly. It was locked.

After a while, Cockerell and Flatnose came out and joined Basta. The three men got in the car. To her revulsion, Cockerell sat with her in the backseat. He reeked of smoke and fire and its smell was almost suffocating. He grinned at her and she moved as far away from as she possibly could. Flatnose sat in the front but he was so large that he had to hunch his body in order to fit in. Basta was the driver so she assumed that the car was his. He started the engine and the car pulled away from the house that she had considered her home.

Basta drove recklessly as though he had never received any proper instruction and served at corners so forcefully that she kept being thrown into Cockerell. She immediately scrambled away but it was clear that Cockerell enjoyed her body being pressed to his. From then on, she held onto her seatbelt to steady her.

The car had tinted windows that made it difficult to see out of. She had no idea of where they were going or which direction. Eventually the road became rough with gravel grinding under the wheels. Cockerell and Flatnose had dozed off. Maybe all that smoke inhalation had made them sleepy. They obviously didn't suffer lack of sleep due to guilty consciences. Even so, Dafne was glad that Cockerell's eyes were no longer on her.

With Basta in the front seat and his concentration on driving, she felt bold enough to speak,

"You won't get away this. Signor Orazio will know that something's happened to me. He'll report it to the police. He'll have you hunted down, especially for what you did to his books. He's a prominent citizen in the village. He can have it done."

This was true. Signor Orazio was highly respected in the village. He had grown up there, the son of fishermen, before he had left to begin his career. Some years ago, he and his wife had purchased a property there as a holiday house. When his wife had died, he sold their home in the city and moved into the house for his retirement. His contributions to improve the community such as his donation to the library had earned him the admiration of the villagers.

Basta laughed at her attempt to threaten him,

"Well that's a mouthful for such a little mouse. But I'm not worried about your boss. Do you want to know why?" Dafne wasn't sure whether to answer or not but Basta carried on regardless. "Because we have the only witness. You."

"What do you mean by that?" she tried to sound indifferent.

Basta lit a cigarette and her nose filled with its smoke.

"I mean that your boss isn't going to have a clue as to what happened to his books and since we have you, there's no one who's going to tell him. All he has to go on is a room full of burnt books and a maid who's vanished. That opens up endless possibilities for what occurred but do you know what's going to be the most likely scenario to him?"

"What's that?" Dafne felt a chill envelope her, as cold as Basta's knife had been when it had lingered on her skin.

"That you're the culprit." The words pierced her. She was rendered speechless. In the absence of a reply, he continued, "Why not? Maids are notorious for sticky-fingers and Cockerell and Flatnose will have cleaned out any valuables they could find before we left. So when he gets home and sees that he's been robbed and no maid around to speak of, he's inevitably going to come to the conclusion that you're the one who's responsible. The fire in the study is only going to be a formality. Maybe you did it for revenge. I've never met a happy maid before. In any case he's never going to know."

"Yes he will," Dafne cried, "He knows me well enough to know that I would never do anything to his books."

Basta shrugged, took a draw from his cigarette, "Regardless, he's still going to think you're a thief."

That thought had plagued her from then on. She couldn't seem to shake of the vision of Signor Orazio coming home to a vandalised house and with her nowhere to seen. In her mind's eyes, she saw him in his fire-ravaged study, burying his stricken face in his hands and saying, "Why Dafne, why?" From then on, she knew she had free herself from her captors and return to him - to let him know the truth. She hated Basta. She hated him for his cunning, deliberate words, even more than the ones who had lit the fires that had consumed the books whose memories were so dear to her. She was silent for the rest of the journey, preoccupying herself by forming plans in her head. They reached the village in the dead of night and when Cockerell pulled Dafne out of the car, the sight before her made her think the timing had the appropriateness of a horror novel.

Basta caught her staring,

"Welcome to your new home," He said and Dafne felt her heart sink.

To be continued…