On the Internet I found out that Mo donned the mask of the Bluejay in Inkdeath after all... I think I might add that bit to my own version. Just a thought...

Hope you're all enjoying my fic, and please review, too!

Here we go.

Chapter Eleven: The Trail of the Adderhead

It was a hot day.

Dustfinger wiped the sweat from his brow as he kneeled down beside a clear hoofprint of a horse. He coaxed Gwin over with a piece of bread. Jink might be the friendlier, and more obedient, marten, but Gwin had a better sense of smell. Putting his little nose to the print, Gwin scampered off again. Farid looked uneasily after the marten. Dustfinger stood, and passed a hand over his face. He turned back and motioned for Silvertongue, the Prince, and the others to follow. After what had happened to Meggie everyone stayed together, even in a dangerous situation like this. Silvertongue didn't seem very happy that Meggie, Resa, Stumbletongue, and Elinor were tagging along with the robbers. But what could they do? There was no other choice. Unless they could abandon those who couldn't fight... but of course they couldn't do such a thing.

"Did you find something?" the Prince murmured.

"Yes, the horse's hoofprints. I'm sure we can ask around for some information, wouldn't you think so?" Dustfinger replied.

"But Basta took Meggie away yesterday. He'd be long gone by now." Silvertongue said heavily.

"I'm sure someone would have seen him," Elinor said from behind the robbers. "After all, he's not invisible!"

"I hope so..."

The next half hour or so passed in silence. Dustfinger and Gwin, as well as Farid, continued to track down Basta. The other robbers and strolling players didn't know what was going on. Dustfinger, the Black Prince, and Silvertongue had agreed that it was best not to tell them of their grim situation. A threatening point with the Prince's knife, Silvertongue's sword, or Dustfinger's flaming finger was enough to convince the others to obey them. But Dustfinger couldn't help but wonder what the others would say if they found out that this entire journey was one to kill the Adderhead, rescue Meggie, and save the world. Dustfinger smiled, despite himself.

Silvertongue's hand was bleeding again. He tried to hide it, but the wound obviously hurt him more than he showed. The Prince had rebandaged the hand for him, and as he did so, Dustfinger felt a pang of jealousy in his heart, his stupid heart. He's your friend. And you know it. Anyway, you have Farid, too... Yet Dustfinger felt an urge to shove Silvertongue out of the way and have another chat with the Prince. But at the same time, Gwin came back, and Farid cried out.

Dustfinger looked. Gwin was carrying something in his mouth. Dustfinger gently pried the object from those sharp little teeth. Dustfinger recognized it as a pencil, a yellow one. It was obviously Meggie's. But he showed it to Silvertongue and Resa, just to make sure.

"It's hers." Resa confirmed in a whisper.

"It must have fallen out of her pocket while Basta was carrying her." the Prince commented. Silvertongue just nodded and took the pencil from Dustfinger's hand, and held it tight. Dustfinger turned and gave Gwin a piece of bread. Farid looked uneasily at Dustfinger, his eyes showing fear and anxiety.

"Do you think she's going to be all right?" Dustfinger didn't have to ask who 'she' was.

"She will be." Dustfinger replied, but at the same time, he wondered - How can you be so sure? How do you know that the Adder's keeping her safe? What if...

"Then we're on the right trail, aren't we?" the Prince said with determination. "Let's go. The faster we reach the Adderhead, the better."

Everyone else agreed silently, and continued on.

It was already evening. They hadn't gotten any closer to their goal. Or so they thought.

To Mo's dismay, it was already time to set up camp. Would they be able to reach the Adder - more importantly - Meggie, at this rate? Mo tried not to think of how the Adder and Basta would treat his daughter. Was Meggie in good health? Uninjured? It was impossible to answer the endless list of questions. Impossible, at least, until they find her...

After they had set up camp they had a quick meal. Elinor had grumbled that her soup was cold. Mo stared down at his own wooden bowl, where a miserably small amount of watery soup sat, also cold. The Black Prince, who was sitting across from him, looked at him apologetically, even though there was not much more soup in his bowl. Even though Dustfinger and Farid had stolen all of those provisions there wasn't nearly enough food to support all of those hungry robbers and strolling players. Naturally the three leaders - Dustfinger, the Black Prince, and Mo, got less than their share of food. Resa offered him some of hers, Mo shook his head and said that he wasn't hungry. Another lie.

Finally they could sleep. Resa, Mo, the Prince, Dustfinger and Farid slept outside, and the others slept in tents. Resa fell asleep almost immediately, leaning against Mo's shoulder. As for Mo, he sat in the dark, fingering something he had kept hidden for weeks. The mask of the Bluejay. He touched the feathers that seemed to shine, even in the night. And he thought.

Would he ever put on the mask? Quite possibly. When was the last time he had worn a mask? When Meggie was less that nine years old - when they were pretending to be characters in some story; Mo couldn't remember what it was. But that mask was made of cardboard, coloured by Meggie's nine-year-old hands with crayons, and not crafted with leather and feathers like the Jay's mask. And you could die wearing the mask of the Bluejay, unlike the cardboard one. Mo found that he missed the cardboard mask - a lot. Yes, a lot.

Meggie. Mo longed to hold her close, to protect and take care of her, as he had done for the last thirteen years. But now she was in the clutches of an evil tyrant who the world was afraid of. Suddenly Mo felt as if he had no strength left. Now that Meggie wasn't beside him, like always, it felt like a part of him was missing. In a way, that was true. All the more reason to curse the damned Adder.

It was ages before Mo was able to fall asleep, his fingers still curled around the mask.

Farid woke the next morning feeling stiff and sore. A root and a stone had been digging into his back all night, and the air had been cold. Farid felt that his hair was damp with dew, as was his clothes. Wiping the water from his hair, he stood and looked around for Dustfinger.

Dustfinger was at the fire with the Prince and Silvertongue. Resa, Elinor, and Darius were there, too, looking akward as ever beside the robbers and strolling players. Farid would have thought Silvertongue belonged in this story - his clothes and hair were just as ragged as Dustfinger, and the Prince. It still amazed Farid, how much one could change in such a short period of time.

Farid went and sat down beside Dustfinger. His master handed him a bowl of cold gruel that stuck to his lips. As he ate Farid ate he tickled Gwin's head and watched the others.

"Where should we start today?" that was the Prince.

"There's an inn close to here, on the border of Argenta." Dustfinger replied. "We might be able to find out something there. And we'll be a little safer, not being in the Adder's realm." he glanced at Silvertongue, who didn't look up from his bowl.

"Heavens!" Elinor sighed. "Does that mean that we have lots more walking to do?" she rubbed her sore feet. "I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

Farid saw Silvertongue smile and put his arm around Resa. "You haven't been through much yet, Elinor. Wait till you do some real walking."

Elinor groaned so comically that Farid had to giggle, but Dustfinger looked grave. "We don't know what the Adder's going to do to Meggie if we don't find her soon. We should set off now."

Everyone agreed silently, and began to pack.

INKINKINKINKINKINK

They had been walking for another few hours when Dustfinger suddenly suggested a short rest. The Prince agreed. The weary strolling players and robbers sat at the edge of the road, making sure to be concealed in the undergrowth.

Farid was just fiddling with a small flame when Dustfinger came and pulled him away from the others.

"Is something wrong?" Farid asked, alarmed.

Dustfinger shook his head. "No, but I have something to tell you." And he began to tell Farid, in a low voice, his new plan.

Farid's eyes were wide when he finished. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes," Dustfinger said firmly. "We have fire with us. And I'm sure that the Adder can't bear to miss a magnificent execution of someone like the Bluejay. He'll take Meggie and Silvertongue to the Castle of Night, and make a spectacle out of the execution. I'm sure of it. We have to get there before him."

Farid had to admit that Dustfinger was right. "When do we set off?"

"Now." Dustfinger glanced around. "But I must leave a message for the others, if we're to assure them that we're safe and sound."

They left as soon as Dustfinger finished scribbling down a short message - Don't worry about us. We're taking a route of our own. We'll take care of the Adder's book by sunset of three days after tomorrw. Be ready to kill the Adderhead at our signal, at the Castle of Night. Dustfinger and Farid.