"I have always had more dread of a pen, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of paper, than of a sword or pistol."
Alexandre Dumas—The Count of Monte Cristo
It's fully dark out and Julianne is sitting on the beach with the surf washing over her bare feet when Roxane and Dustfinger come out of the infirmary. In the moonlight it's easier than usual to see Roxane's beauty, not even exhaustion can dim it. Fenoglio must be so proud whenever he sees her, her beauty making even Cosimo seem lesser.
"The old man sent your letter after all, Princess," Dustfinger says, smiling softly at Meggie. She stands with her own smile, an awkward thing as she takes the letter from Roxane. Julianne isn't sure why Meggie should feel awkward, but then she notices Dustfinger's hand on Roxane's back and it clicks. Meggie is offended on Julianne's behalf. Julianne really loves her sister right now.
She stands and brushes off the back of her tattered dress, making her way over to where Meggie's eyes are devouring Fenoglio's letter. There are three sheets in total, the words a tangled mess to Julianne's eyes. Like snakes, she thinks, then, or the extinguisher that filled little Danny Torrance with unease. Meggie tucks the first sheet of parchment into her belt, which probably means that whatever's written there wouldn't be appreciated by anyone else in their posse. She reads the other two pages at lightning speed, far faster than Julianne ever could have managed. The words jumble up in Julianne's head, the letters twisting together until she grows frustrated.
"Well, is it any good," Dustfinger asks when Meggie turns to glance at the castle rising on its bald hill.
"It's…. Different. Still good, though." She holds the two sheets out for Dustfinger to take, and he does so with a wariness that shouldn't be so heartbreaking. Dustfinger, more than anyone here, knows what kind of damage words can do. Roxane's brows furrow as Dustfinger's eyes start a slow journey over the page.
"When did you learn to read," she asks, genuinely curious.
"The girls' mother taught me in that other world," he says, distracted. Meggie looks fit to burst with impatience and hope, rocking up onto her toes to look at the words even as Dustfinger keeps reading.
"It could work, couldn't it," she asks, hopeful. To their left, the sea roars its agreement, crashing against the beach and leaving green-tinged foam behind. "It's a good idea."
"What is it," Farid asks snappishly. He's shifting from foot to foot and wringing his hands, desperate and scared all at once. He's a boy of action, this idling around isn't to his liking. "What idea has the old man written down?"
"Meggie will have to go to the castle," Dustfinger says in a soft voice. All the impatience floods out of Julianne in a single instant, leaving her feeling vague and untethered. Fenoglio expects her baby sister to go straight into the Adder's nest? Absolutely fucking not. That's ridiculous, it's fool-hearty, and Julianne will strangle the old man with his moth-eaten tunic for this idiocy.
"There better be a backup plan in there because Meggie's not leaving my sight," Julianne states, firm and determined. She turns and points at her sister before she can offer up a protest. "We'll find another way to get Mo and Resa back, but you're not going to that castle alone."
"Oh, she's not going alone." Julianne looks at Dustfinger over her shoulder, scowling at the amusement in his eyes. "It says right here that you'll be accompanying her up there. Seems like the author knew better than to do it any other way."
"I'm going to murder him when we get back to Ombra. I will stab him in the neck with his own quill, I'll—"
"Juli, you're ranting," Meggie says. Julianne glares over at her sister, but Meggie has become immune to that look over the years. It really sucks because that look used to make her jump to whatever chore was assigned to her. Now all it accomplishes is Meggie sending her a look of fond amusement.
"I deserve a good rant after all the fuckery we've been dealing with lately."
"Save it for after we've got our parents back. Mo loves watching you go off on people and he'll especially love seeing you blow up at Fenoglio." Julianne's glare softens into a frown, her hands reaching for Meggie only to drop back to her sides halfway through the motion. "I'm gonna go read now. Join me when you've calmed down a little." Julianne deflates as Meggie and Roxane disappear inside the infirmary, the words going with them.
"You'll let me kill Fenoglio, won't you?"
"I'll help," Farid says matter-of-factly, face screwed up in a sour expression. "Dustfinger's always talking about teamwork. This would count, right?"
"Hell yeah it would."
"Dear God, I feel like I've stumbled into a Disney film gone horribly wrong," Dustfinger groans. "Is this what your father felt like when you were growing up, Juli?" She nods with a smile that doesn't come as easy to her as it once did. "Come here, you two." Farid and Julianne fall against Dustfinger in the same instant, wrapping their arms around him and each other.
"Do you think Fenoglio's words will heal this story," Farid asks after a moment.
"I think Meggie's will. Go on now, little bird. I know you're dying to hear your sister's voice." She presses a slow kiss to Dustfinger's lips before she goes, spotting an emotion blooming in his eyes that neither of them is quite ready to confront. "Be careful not to be spotted."
"Always, Dusty," she murmurs, leaving the warmth of his arms. Julianne heads inside and goes straight for their borrowed room, passing Roxane as she does so. Roxane sends her a curious look, but she doesn't stop and Julianne is thankful for that. Julianne stops in front of the closed door, tapping out the quiet rhythm of shave and a haircut with one knuckle, smiling when Meggie completes it with two raps of her own knuckle.
"I think this is going to work," Meggie says, though she doesn't open the door. "I really do, Juli."
"Then read on, Wonder Woman. I'll be right here if you need me." Neither girl knows it, but they slide down to the floor in unison with their backs against the door and one hand resting against cold stone as though the thought of reaching out for the other offers all the comforts of home.
"Night after night, the Adderhead could get no rest. His wife slept soundly and deeply…." Meggie's voice washes over Julianne, wrapping around her in a blanket of warmth and familiarity. The cadence and soft tone both entwined with magic and wonder, every bit of it reminding Julianne of those nights Mo used to read aloud before he learned what his voice could do.
She relaxes inch by inch against the door until she's almost dozing, able to see flickering torchlight against silver columns and the sleeping form of a young woman beneath her covers while her husband cowered away from the dark. If she closes her eyes, she can make out all the fine details her sister's describing; deep black skies with no moon to speak of, the Adderhead's face creased with terror and wet with sweat, his voice as he orders guards to bring more torches.
"…. As he was sitting at his table, his fingers dripping with fat from the freshly roasted meat, a girl and her sister came to the Castle of Night. They walked fearlessly past the guards and the girl offered him a deal: a bargain with Death…." There are agitated voices, Julianne doesn't notice them right away, lost in the trance of Meggie's words, but then Meggie trails off and the other voices grow slightly louder. Roxane comes running along the colonnade like the devil is after her, cheeks flushed and eyes wide with fear. She pulls Julianne to her feet and flings the door open.
"The Adderhead's soldiers are here," she says, breathless. "They have a picture of you, Meggie. You have to come with me." Meggie stuffs the last page down the neck of her dress and catches Julianne's hand before they start back the way Roxane had come, propelled to the Barn Owl's room by Roxane.
"Hide her," Julianne says, recognizing the booming voice arguing with Bella farther down the hall. "I'll stall as long as I can." Roxane nods and ushers Meggie into the empty room, Julianne closing the door and leaning against it as casually as she can. Firefox and his retinue come into view seconds later, Bella easily keeping pace with them.
"This is ridiculous," the Barn Owl is saying, pushing his way to the front of the group when they stop in front of Julianne. Firefox is sending the smaller man an impressive glare, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair and his foxtail cape crooked on his shoulders. "You have no right—"
"I have orders, old man," Firefox snarls. The Barn Owl doesn't so much as quiver in the face of the herald's anger, merely growing angrier. "Out of the way, Songbird!"
"Have you forgotten your manners, Firefox," she asks, plucking her comb from her hair in the guise of studying it. She doubts any man in this world would think of using a simple comb as a weapon, but she's gotten very good at improvising lately. "Last I checked storming into an infirmary was frowned upon."
"You really don't want to get on my bad side tonight. I have orders to take you and the witch to the Adderhead."
"Then you're out of luck because there are no witches here." If she keeps him out of the room long enough, Meggie might be able to finish healing the story. He brings up a hand to grab her dress, but she smacks it with the flat of the comb. He hisses and shakes out the offended hand, glaring at her all the while. "Keep your hands to yourself or I cut them off."
"I will knock you unconscious and drag you back to the Adderhead by your hair, Julianne." She straightens and a steely resolve flushes through her, brandishing her comb the way Basta might his knife. Firefox flinches back from it, barely enough to be noticeable.
"Why don't you ask Basta and Slasher what happened the last time they threatened me," she murmurs, close enough that she can smell the sandalwood soap he favors. "Better yet, ask Capricorn what happens when he crosses my family. Oh wait." She laughs, a cold sound that's entirely foreign to her. "That's right, he's dead."
"Do you think that this will intimidate me?" He reaches for the doorknob and Julianne brings the comb down again, the sharp points of it pricking through his fine glove and to the meat. He draws it back again, letting out a growl. "I will break that comb."
"I'd like to see you try." He's just opening his mouth with another retort when the door of the study swings open, Meggie stepping out with her lips pulled downwards in a frown. There's a small dip between her furrowed brows and Julianne reaches out without thinking, smoothing the crease with her thumb. Firefox takes that moment of weakness to snatch the comb out of Julianne's hand, stuffing it in the pocket of his trousers.
"Witch," cries one of the men, eyes darting from the picture in Firefox's hand and to Meggie. Above the scarves these men have tied over their mouths and noses, their eyes have filled with the kind of terror that lingers for days. Firefox reaches out with his free hand to grasp Meggie's chin, turning her head this way and that.
"Just as I thought," he says, dropping her chin. "You're the girl from the stable. I must admit, you don't look like much of a witch." He turns to look at a girl standing amongst his men-at-arms, a raggedy little thing who had studied Meggie so intently just a few hours ago. "Well done, little one."
"The minstrel with the silver nose said I'd get to work in the castle kitchen," Carla murmurs, staring down at the silver coin Firefox pressed into her hand.
"Take that up with Piper, not me. Only jobs I promise are those of soldiers or miners." Firefox turns blue eyes on the Barn Owl, eyes narrowed the slightest bit. "I'm to take you along as well, sawbones. You've let the wrong sort of guest through your doors once too often."
"Only once," the Barn Owl asks dryly.
"More than that, I'm sure. I told the Adderhead that it was high time we set fire to this old place, but he won't hear of it. Someone's told him his death will come out of a fire and now we're lucky if he lets us use torches." His words are wrapped tightly in thorns, prickly things meant to hurt. If the Adderhead were here, Firefox's head would be on a pike. "Come on, then. The sooner you lot are in the castle, the sooner I can get some sleep."
"Unless your master has another nightmare," Julianne says. Firefox grumbles something, grabbing her arm roughly and shoving her in front of him. "No touchy!" She slaps at him with the comb again, but he snatches it out of her hand and pockets it along with Meggie's stolen picture.
"You can have your comb back when you learn how to behave."
"You think she's bad with that comb, you should see her with a broom," Meggie states with a cunning little smile. "Or you could ask Slasher about it if he's regained consciousness." Firefox isn't quite able to muffle his snort, but the poor man does try.
There are horses waiting on the beach for the men and prisoners alike, Firefox lifting Meggie up and placing her in the saddle of a pony that looks like something straight out of Middle-earth, its mane shaggy and soft to the touch. The horse Julianne's assigned to is a few years older, a pale brown with black and white spots near its bottom. As they set out for the castle, Julianne allows herself a quick look around but there's not one trace of Dustfinger or Farid.
The banquet hall is a grand thing with arched ceilings and thick columns that are covered in silver scales, gleaming in the candlelight and obscuring a few servants. The Adderhead is seated at the head of the table with his pregnant wife seated next to him, the poor thing a little older than Meggie and looking miserably ill. At the other end of the long table is Mortola and Basta, the latter suffering first-degree burns over what bit of skin Julianne can see, his lips swollen and sore. She has to fight a smile when his gaze lands on her, brown eyes blazing with a banked fury. I'll get you for this, that gaze says.
I'll make your burns feel like kisses, her stare replies. Seated beside the Magpie, Slasher is doing his best to blend in with his chair, head lowered and hands bandaged. There's a nasty bruise along his cheek and jaw, the proof of Julianne's prowess with cleaning instruments.
Firefox pushes Julianne to get her moving again, marching the girls forward until they're beside the table. He throws Meggie's photo on the table amongst the food spread out, some gravy dripping onto the silver frame. The Adderhead looks from the picture to Meggie, studying her with the bloodshot eyes of the desperately exhausted. He raises one grease-covered hand and, behind him, the Piper stops his crooning and sets his lute against the wall.
"I wish we had a witch-picture like this of everyone we're after," Firefox says. "Perhaps then our informants would stop bringing us the wrong people."
"Did it ever cross your mind that your informants are idiots," Julianne asks. Firefox nods his head a little, a small dip of his chin that says several times, but what can you do all too well. The Adderhead wipes his hands on a linen napkin before picking up the frame, looking between it and Meggie.
"Remarkable," he says. "Not even my best painters could have produced such an accurate likeness." Julianne thinks of the video game she'd had a brief obsession with, Outlast offering a perfect quote for the faint awe shining in the Adderhead's gaze: The Doctor told me once if you showed a caveman our technology, he would think it was magic. He exchanges the photo for a silver toothpick, prodding a bit of meat stuck in his teeth. "Mortola says you're a witch. Is she right?"
"Yes," Meggie answers simply. She maintains eye contact and keeps her chin raised, all stubborn pride.
"Do you know what I usually do to witches and magicians?"
"Employ them," Julianne asks, sending a pointed look in Mortola's direction. Firefox prods her side in much the same way the Adderhead's still doing to the bit of meat, a dull throb spreading along her ribs. She doesn't wince, though, won't give that idiot the satisfaction.
"I burn them." Julianne shivers as the words leave his mouth, an echo of the ones Meggie had read aloud just an hour ago in a little room with lavender on the floor. She wonders if he can feel the power sizzling in the hall, wrapping around him until all the hairs on his arms are standing on end.
"The last to burn were your own men," Meggie states calmly. She glances over at the men from the mill, Slasher shifting uncomfortable in his seat. "Only one man controls fire in this world, and he's not you." The Adderhead almost looks impressed, the way a tomcat might look impressed at a mouse who has the gumption to bite it.
"You're as bold as your sister, little witch. I suppose you're talking about that fire-dancer that likes to run around with the Prince and his trained bear. Do you really think he'll come and rescue the two of you? If that happens, then I'd love to feed him to the fire you claim obeys him so well."
"My sister and I don't need a rescuer. Why do you think we were at the Barn Owl's infirmary? We needed to rest before we finished our journey here. You can even ask Firefox, he saw me at an inn." The Adderhead glances to his man and Firefox nods.
"Did the pair of you come to plead for your father's life? Mortola says we caught both of your parents." The girls share a long look, the magic zipping through them as things continue to play out according to plan. Let it not be said that Fenoglio doesn't know his craft. There's a hint of panic in Meggie's gaze when it trails over Mortola and Julianne does what she does best, she talks.
"Well, she's not wrong," Julianne says, shrugging. She's doing her best to sound calm, like the man from her nightmares isn't a few feet away from her. "Mo is our father, but a robber he ain't. The guy once felt guilty about beating my sister in a game of cards. The only reason our parents were in that damn camp when your men showed up is because that bitch down the way shot him and the camp was close to Capricorn's old fortress." She can feel Fenoglio's words perched on the edge of her tongue, ready to fall at a moment's notice. "We didn't come for leniency," she says instead of stabbing the magpie with a toasting fork. It's a close thing, magic words or not.
"Then why did you come," the Adderhead asks. He's curious, the expression strange to see on his face, and it doesn't fill the lines that hatred has carved into it. Julianne looks to Meggie again, the girls back on script. Is her heart beating as fast as Julianne's? A rabbit's heart instead of a girl's, thundering away until she's surprised that no one else can hear it and criticize her for it.
"We have a deal to offer you," Meggie tells him.
"Listen to how boldly the witches speak," Basta snarls, voice shaking with his anger. "Let me carve the little one up and cage her sweet sister!" The Adderhead doesn't appear to hear Basta, lizard-eyed stare focused solely on Meggie. He purses his lips as he takes his wife's hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it and not once seeming to care at how she tries to flinch away from him.
"A deal, eh," he asks. "What do you plan to sell me that I can't simply take for myself?" His men laugh amongst the columns, unaware of the words piling up in Julianne's mind, the same words tumbling out of her sister's mouth now.
"Our father is no robber. He's a bookbinder and an enchanter. He is the only man alive who doesn't fear Death. Haven't you seen his wound? Didn't the physicians tell you that injury ought to have killed him? Nothing can kill him. Mortola tried and failed. He's brought Cosimo the Fair back to life even though the White Women had already delivered him up to Death. If you release our parents, our father…." She trails off, waiting for the Adder to lean forward in his seat. "Our father can make you immortal." Everything goes uncomfortably still in the hall, only Mortola daring to break it.
"She's lying," Mortola shrieks. "Don't believe a word that comes out of her mouth! Her bewitched tongue is her only weapon! Bring her father here and I'll show you how easily he can be killed!" Julianne is ready to toss Mortola from a window, but the Adderhead speaks before she can so much as turn.
"How can your father do what you promise," he asks, voice soft. Julianne sees the fear in his eyes and remembers the words her sister had read. Death waited outside the windows, outside the glass panes paid for by selling his strongest peasants. Death pressed its ugly face against them as soon as darkness swallowed up his castle like a snake swallowing a mouse. Meggie puts her hands on the table and leans forward, speaking the words Fenoglio had so carefully put down on parchment.
"Our father will bind you a book," she tells him, so quiet that even Julianne strains to hear her. "He will bind it for you with help from my sister and I, a book with five hundred blank pages. He will cover it with wood and leather, he will give it brass clasps, and you will write your name on the first page in your own hand. As thanks, you will release him and whoever he asks for."
"And the book?"
"You must hide the book in a place known only to you, for hear this: As long as that book exists you will be immortal. Nothing will be able to kill you, no disease, no weapon—as long as the book remains intact."
"Last I checked parchment doesn't last like silver."
"You will have to take good care of it." The book will make you immortal, Julianne thinks with a vindictive little smile, and three words written in it will kill you—heart, spell, death.
"What's the brat whispering," Mortola demands. Her chair scrapes over the floor as she stands, the noise echoing in Julianne's head like gunfire. "Just kill her already! Her and her miserable family!" Julianne does turn this time, eyes alight with vengeance.
"If you threaten my family one more time, Magpie, I'll make your son's death look fucking pleasant," Julianne snarls. "Now sit down and shut your trap!"
"I was thinking much the same thing, Songbird," the Adderhead says, drawing Julianne's gaze back to him. "If Mortola interrupts again, send her to work in the kitchens, Firefox." Firefox looks uneasy at the thought of Mortola handling food, but he nods all the same. The color drains from Mortola's cheeks and she lowers herself back into her seat.
"Now I feel dirty," Julianne mutters, winking over at Meggie. The Adder doesn't hear her comment, too busy spearing a small bird with his knife. The tiny thing is glistening with grease as it's popped into the Adderhead's mouth, the bones spit out into a servant's hand.
"Did I understand you correctly when you said the two of you would assist your father in his work? Does that mean he's taught his daughters his craft? Surely you know that such a thing is forbidden in my realm? If a craftsman of Argenta breaks that law, dear girls, I usually have his right hand chopped off."
"Our father can hardly create your book with one hand." The words aren't her own, they bubble up from the air around her and come out in a soft rush of air.
"Very well, then. I'll allow it just this once."
"Our mother," Meggie starts, but the Adderhead shakes his head so sharply that his jowls swing under his heavy chin.
"Your mother will remain in the dungeon as an incentive for the three of you to work quickly." He signals to Firefox, but the man doesn't move to grab for the girls. "Why are you still standing here? Take the little one to her father and have the librarian to set to work this very night. Make sure we have everything a bookbinder needs for his work."
"Surely you don't believe this nonsense," Firefox asks incredulously. "A book to hold Death captive in its pages? Only a child could believe such a fairy tale. Mortola's right, hang him now before these children turn you into a laughingstock. Capricorn would have done it long ago."
"Have you forgotten who it is you serve, Firefox?" He doesn't meet Firefox's stare, gazing instead at the platters of food spread out in front of him. "My family has ruled this land for more than seven generations, while your old master was only the bastard son of a soot-blackened smith! When you came to me you were a simple fire-raiser, but I made you my herald. A little more gratitude would be appreciated unless you'd like to find a new master?"
"No, Your Grace, I do not." Firefox's face has gone as red as his hair, though Julianne isn't sure if it's from anger or embarrassment.
"Good! Take the youngest to her father and make sure he soon sets to work. Have you brought the old sawbones from beside the sea?" Firefox nods, reaching out to grasp Meggie's arm without looking at his master. "Take him to visit her father as well, twice a day starting tonight. We want our prisoner to be fit and well, understand?"
"Yes, master." Julianne makes to follow as Firefox pulls Meggie out of the hall, but the Adder's voice stops her.
"You won't be leaving just yet, Songbird." She pauses with her back to the Prince, shoulders a stiff line that sends jolts of pain up her neck. "My grandson has praised your singing and Basta's told me how Capricorn enjoyed your singing so much that he had you forcibly brought to his village. Show me if they're right about your enchanted tongue." Julianne turns slowly, thoughts racing through her head so fast that she feels dizzy.
"I have no songs for great halls and evil times," she murmurs. The adrenaline has started to drain out of her in great heaps, leaving her tired and sore. She just wants to collapse on something horizontal and stay there for two days.
"And why should your songs be unfit for my halls?" He bites into a tomato, juice dribbling down his chin. That settles it, doesn't it, she thinks with a resigned sigh. Did Fenoglio write this as well? It's too in sync to be anything else. So she does her best to stand straighter and sings the song she's had stuck in her head all day.
"Home is behind, the world ahead and there are many paths to tread. Through shadow to the edge of night until the stars are all alight. Mist and shadow, cloud and shade, all shall fade. All shall fade."
"The Doctor told me once if you showed a caveman our technology, he would think it was magic. And if you showed a modern man magic, he would think it was technology. We have faith in all the wrong things. And it will destroy us." —Random variant in Outlast.