The day seems to pass by quickly, Dustfinger and Julianne spending it in the ruins while swapping stories. He knows a great many concerning the White Women from his world and she tells him the story of Blackbeard and Headless Nicole, a woman who had lost her head years ago during a terrible storm. It's said that she still rides these lands on her mare, looking for her lost child.

Dustfinger smiles more than she's ever seen, speaking without his usual guard up and letting a few things about his family slip past his lips. Roxane, his wife, is the best minstrel in Ombra, and he tells Julianne about how he received his scars. It's one thing to read about it in a book, but to hear the heartbreak in his voice makes her want to scream. It makes her glad for the fairies that had taken pity on him.

"Your world seems so strange," she says as they walk towards Elinor's home. "I guess you feel the same way about this one, huh?" He shrugs a shoulder, stopping under the shade of an oak tree. "I don't see how you've managed to adjust so well. I mean, I know you've had nine years, but still... It just seems so... So..."

"Traumatic," he supplies with a laugh," life changing? It was, but I've learned a few things, enough to get by okay." She smiles sadly, looking down at her flip-flops. Dustfinger puts a finger under her chin and lifts her head so that she's looking up at him. "Don't be sad, little bird. It wasn't your tongue that enticed me into this world." His smile is small, almost reluctant, but it's still there and it's real. "Stop fretting over mistakes that are not your own."

His gaze roams over her face like he's taking in every detail, trying to memorize them. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he leans forward and presses his lips against Julianne's in an almost imperceptible kiss. The hand holding her chin moves to cup the side of her face, urging her closer and making sure she can feel his lips against hers. They're soft and taste sweet, like honey and smoke.

Julianne moans, moving her hands to his shoulders and squeezing, lips parting to allow his tongue to move against hers. It isn't like the authors said, there are no fireworks or butterflies, but her heart beats faster and she finds herself never wanting to stop. It's strange, but…. Holy damn, she actually likes kissing him.

When they pull apart, Julianne and Dustfinger are breathing hard, breath mingling in the limited space between them.

"Wow," she breathes, leaning against the tree. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, stepping away and jogging towards the house. She watches him go, wondering what the hell had just happened. "What the hell is wrong with me? That kiss wasn't enjoyable." But no matter how much she tries to tell herself otherwise, that kiss remains one of the best she's ever gotten. Is this how Evie felt after saving Rick O'Connell from the hangman's noose?

With one last shake of her head, she starts forward again with a determination to put that little moment out of her mind for the rest of the night. He obviously wasn't thinking at the time and Julianne had still been riding a high from the nostalgia of hiking through the ruins. By the time she makes it back to the house it's nearly time for dinner and she's filthy.

"Go take a shower," Elinor scolds. "I won't eat with a child that smells like she hasn't bathed in two weeks."

"I'm twenty," Julianne mutters, stomping up the stairs to her bathroom. She makes quick work of the shower, washing as quickly as she can before slipping on a pair of jeans followed by a simple tank top and the Mossy Oak hoodie Tyler had given her last month. She marches back downstairs in time to see Elinor dumping a sad version of spaghetti into five bowls. Julianne scrunches up her nose at it as she finds a seat at the table, poking the overcooked noodles with her fork to see it they'll move.

"I'm afraid I have no patience to toil over a hot stove," Elinor says with a prim sniff," but perhaps Julianne or your friend can cook tomorrow."

"You know I can, but you made me clean up before I was allowed to do anything else." Elinor looks accusingly at Dustfinger and he shrugs.

"I burn food more often than naught," he admits.

"Mo can cook," Meggie points out, following Julianne's example and poking at her food with her fork.

"Mortimer's job here is to take care of my sick books, not cook," Elinor states, sending Meggie a look that could freeze water. Julianne tunes out whatever conversation follows, knowing it'll be as boring as yesterday's dinner discussions had been. She continues moving the noodles around in her bowl, too queasy to eat. It feels like two butterflies are cage fighting in her stomach.

She glances over at Dustfinger and notes the box of matches he's playing with. Elinor hates fire almost as much as she hates illiterates. Elinor seems to notice the box as well, lips pinched as though she's just bit into something sour.

"You're in trouble," she mouths to him seconds before Elinor starts to talk.

"I hadn't thought this rule needed stating considering all the books in my house, but I'll have no candles lit." Meggie shifts guiltily in her seat, careful not to meet Elinor's gaze. She needn't have worried because Elinor's complete attention is focused on Dustfinger. "Fire is far too greedy for paper."

"I'd say someone here has the wrong idea about fire," Dustfinger says pointedly. "It bites like a fierce little animal, admittedly, but you can pacify it." Afterwards he strikes a match and pops it in his mouth. He pulls it out seconds after, extinguished, and places it on his empty plate with that strange not-smile of his. It's not the real one he'd shown Julianne earlier. "You see, Elinor, it's quite easy to tame."

Meggie looks amazed at the trick, Elinor seems unaffected, and Mo has a scolding expression on his face. Dustfinger puts the match book away meekly, agreeing to Elinor's no candle rule. Julianne simply shrugs the incident off, having seen that trick several times back when he'd visited more frequently. He'd stopped the tricks when he realized she didn't care, that she wouldn't like anything he did.

But you liked that kiss today, a quiet voice reminds her.

"Another thing," Elinor states, sending Dustfinger another pointed look," if you go out again like you did last night you'd better not be out for too long because I set my alarm at nine-thirty on the dot."

"I suppose I was lucky yesterday evening." He puts some spaghetti in his bag without Elinor noticing, Gwin's nose appearing seconds later and sniffing around for more. "The world's more to my liking at night, it's much more slow and quiet. I do have plans this evening though, and I'll need you to switch that lovely system of yours on a little later than normal."

"And pray tell, why is that?"

Dustfinger sends Meggie a devious wink before answering," I've promised this young lady a show. It begins an hour before midnight and all are welcome to attend." Elinor dabs at her face with a cloth napkin in an attempt to stall for time and think of a good excuse as to why they shouldn't do it in her yard.

"Why not in daylight? And anyway, she should be in bed by eight o'clock." Julianne snorts at the logic, taking a small bite of the rubbery noodles. Meggie has been choosing her own bedtime since her fifth birthday and if she wants to do something bad enough there's no way in hell that Elinor is going to stop her. The look Elinor sends Dustfinger is hostile, daring him to beat her reasoning. Dustfinger on the other hand is perfectly calm, a reply on his lips right after she had finished.

"The tricks I am going to show her can't be seen very well in the daytime." He leans back comfortably, as though it's his table they're all sitting at and not Elinor's. "I need the cover of night, it's always more beautiful in the dark." Meggie looks ready to burst with excitement, practically bouncing in her chair. I haven't seen her so excited since Dustfinger showed up.

"He can juggle," she exclaims," with eight balls!"

"Eleven," Dustfinger corrects," but juggling is for the daytime."

"Fine," Elinor scowls after looking at all of them. "I will go about my usual routine and the alarm will be set at nine-thirty and I will switch it off again for an hour once you're ready to start."

"That's perfect." Dustfinger bows as best he can while sitting, his nose colliding with his plate and knocking his food all over his lap and the table.

Julianne passes Dustfinger as she's going up the stairs and he grabs her arm to make her stop. "Are you sure you don't want to join Meggie and me," he asks, almost desperate despite the outward calm he projects. She bites her lip, glancing up the stairs at the library door. Mo will be binding books tonight and she's promised to help him so they can talk.

"I'm sure," she answers, giving Dustfinger a reserved smile before continuing up the stairs. "Have a good time!" After what had happened that afternoon, she's having issues being around Dustfinger without thinking of that damn kiss, but helping Mo always makes her racing thoughts shut off. Mo is in the library instead of his workshop, having moved a larger table in there so he has more room and closer access to the books he needs to heal. "Hey, Mo."

Mo gives her a distracted nod, gently placing a book on the table in front of him. It's a simple folding table you'd see at a school event, one that usually holds food instead of a bookbinder's tools. She sits next to him, gently removing the cover of the book like she's been doing since she was Meggie's age. The rotting cover will be thrown away once the books they do tonight have a new skin.

"Is Meggie outside," he asks without looking up.

"Yeah. She's so excited about tonight." He nods, whistling The Bare Necessities under his breath. Julianne's mind goes blank as she continues to work, focusing only on the task at hand.

She never notices as four men slip inside the library until one of them has her pulled into a standing position by her hair, a knife pressed against her throat. The smell of peppermint makes Julianne's stomach churn violently, nails biting her palms as she fights her gag reflex. Basta's found us. Another man pulls Mo out of his seat, the man unfamiliar and boasting an unfortunate nose.

"Hello, Silvertongue," the man purrs. "So nice to see you again after all these years." Mo's struggling to get free, but Julianne isn't moving a single inch, knowing full well that Basta won't hesitate to cut her throat wide open. "Where's the book?"

"I don't know, but it's not here," Mo replies, looking desperate and scared.

"Of course it's here!" Basta's outburst makes Julianne flinch, the cool metal of the blade nicking her throat. She can feel warm drops of blood spilling down the neck of her hoodie, a disgusted shiver nearly making the cut deeper. "Do you want us to kill both of your children or would you rather find the damn book?"

"How do you know my youngest daughter is even here?"

"We have spies everywhere, Silvertongue. Where's the book?"

"I'll give it to you, but I'm coming along and taking it back once Capricorn has finished with it." Julianne can feel Basta shrug, moving his hand from her hair to her upper arm.

"That's fine, we were told to bring you and Julianne anyway," another man states, favoring one of his legs. "You have no idea how much faith Capricorn has in your abilities." Julianne gets why they were told to bring Mo, but why the hell do they need her?

"Juli stays here."

"The hell she does," Basta objects. "Capricorn said to bring entertainment and we all know how entertaining the little songbird can be." He leans forward, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I wonder if you're as good as I remember." She tries to flinch away, but he holds her steady. "Careful now, Capricorn doesn't like his property damaged."

"I'm not property," she says, barely more than a scared whimper.

"You're whatever we say you are." Julianne meets Mo's weary graze from across the room, silently begging him to do something. Please make these monster go away, Daddy. "Get the book." Mo sighs, shrugging off the large man behind him and moving over to a bookshelf that leans against the wall. He pushes aside a stack of books and pulls out the plain brown sack that contains Inkheart. "Not a bad hiding place. Take it from him, Cockerell, and let's go."

The man that spoke earlier limps over and snatches the book out of Mo's hands, pushing him to get him moving. Basta gets a firm grip on the back of Julianne's hoodie, sheathing his knife as he pushes her ahead of him.

Parked in the driveway are two cars; an SUV and a sports car that costs more than Julianne's student loans. She's steered towards the sports car, shoved into the front passenger's seat with a hand on her head. Cockerell get in the backseat of the SUV while the man with the messed-up nose drives them.

"Seatbelt, Julianne," Basta instructs once he gets in the driver's seat.

"Fuck off," she snarls, feeling brave now that the knife's been put away. He chuckles, a rough sound as the engine purrs into life. The car speeds off down the long driveway and onto the road, Julianne's heart beating so hard against her ribs that she's surprised when it doesn't pop right out.

"You should be a little bit nicer to me. I don't handle disobedience well, just ask Dirtyfingers."