Steel
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Inkheart
Copyright: Cornelia Funke
It was dark in Bramante's forge, pitch-dark and hot, like the inside of some enormous creature's stomach. The only light came from the fire which thrashed and hissed like a rabid animal, or from the red-hot iron poker Bramante threatened his young son with when the boy was slow about his work. The boy was known as Basta, which means 'enough' or 'I've had it!' because of all the times his skinny frame and timid nature, so unsuitable for a smith, drove his father's patience past the limit.
Basta was nine when the shining man first came to the forge. He called him that in his mind because he was tall, elegantly dressed in bright red silk, and pale as a cool glass of milk in contrast to the dark-skinned inhabitants of the Argentan village. The shining man came to get his white stallion shoed, and he gave the order in such a clear, beautiful, cultured voice that Basta could have listened to him for hours. It took a hard cuff and a shouted command from his father to get to work.
And at that moment, the shining man's grey eyes looked down into Basta's brown ones with a look of dark understanding. I know how you feel, said those eyes. I've been there.
Basta took all his small supply of courage in his hands and asked the stranger's name.
"They call me Capricorn," he said.
Later on, when Basta was hiding behind the house one night to avoid his father's arrival from the tavern, he found himself looking at a pair of shiny black boots. He looked up, and there was Capricorn.
"Is it true," he said, with a mild sort of interest, "That your mother died giving birth to you?"
Basta nodded. "I'm cursed," he said, almost defiantly, as if that made him somehow special. "I'm bad luck. Everyone says so."
"Interesting," said Capricorn. "Did you know I have a personal army made up of cursed people? We unleash our bad luck onto others. That, little one, is what makes us so very powerful."
His eyes glowed like two moons in the foggy twilight; he looked superhuman, a glorious fallen angel.
"I was planning to kill your father, you know," said Capricorn, as coolly as if discussing the weather. "But on second thought, it would be much more fitting for you to do it. A sort of initiation rite – because only the bravest of warriors are allowed in my army. I sense much potential in you, young fox. Join me, and you could be great."
Capricorn smiled and handed over a small, sharp knife which gleamed as brilliantly as his steely eyes. Basta's little fingers curled around the handle quite naturally, as it were made for him.
Basta, the weakling. Basta, the coward. Basta, the never-do-well.
You could be great.
Basta slipped the knife into his boot and narrowed his eyes like a young fox on the hunt.
"I will follow you, Capricorn," he said. "I swear."