Note: Thanks for all of those awesome reviews! They really kept me going! And also thanks for reading this far... I adore all you readers... lol.
Chapter Nineteen: Arsonists
Meggie watched, in horror, as Mo doubled over in apparent agony. What was going on? What was happening?
Only then Meggie heard Orpheus reading. Her head snapped towards the moon-faced man; he was holding a sheet of paper and was reading aloud, beautifully as always. But this time the words were beastly ones - pain. agony. burning. death... Meggie looked back towards Mo once again and saw that he was on the ground. She could see his form jerking and shaking violently. Words were doing this. Orpheus's words.
Meggie knew she had to do something. The Wildcat was coming forward, claws raised. What? What could she do? Only if she could get free from the soldier... Then Mo's voice came back to her. "The Inkworld doesn't have technology, remember. Perhaps you can startle someone in an emergency..." This was definately an emergency. Meggie plunged her free hand into her pocket, and felt the smooth phone. Did it have a flashlight function? Yes, it did. Meggie pressed the button, whipped out the phone, and opened it, so that the bright light shone straight into the soldier's face.
The huge man gave a scream and jumped backwards. It was almost comical. Meggie shoved the phone back into the pocked and leapt to where Orpheus was standing, with the Magpie. Meggie didn't even notice Mortola - desperation gave her courage, too. She latched onto Orpheus's fair hair and began to pull so hard that the man screamed in midsentence and dropped the sheet of paper. Meggie stamped on the words, the accursed words, until they were no longer legible. She still didn't let go of Orpheus's hair.
Then someone had dragged her back again - the soldier had recovered. Mortola was angrily screeching something; the Adderhead was yelling at Orpheus, and Orpheus was whimpering. The soldier shook Meggie and said something to her, but Meggie didn't hear. All she was looking at was Mo. He was on the ground, with the Wildcat's knee on his chest. But just as the Cat was about to bring the claws down, he gave him a mighty punch to the face with his injured hand. Yowling, the Cat leapt off of Mo.
Perhaps it would be all right after all, thought Meggie.
"Dustfinger?" Farid's voice broke into Dustfinger's thoughts.
Dammit, Farid, can't you leave me alone for just a minute? Dustfinger groaned inwardly. "What is it now?"
"Where is everyone? It's too quiet..."
Dustfinger glanced around. It was so true - the only human in sight was a hunched old lady sitting in the shadows of the wall, feeding some birds. Dustfinger strode towards her, ignoring Farid's look of alarm.
"Excuse me," Dustfinger said, "but where is everybody in the castle?"
The old woman looked up. Her face was as shrivelled as a dry apple. "Haven't you heard?" she croaked, throwing some crumbs to the birds.
"Heard of what?" Farid said from behind Dustfinger.
The woman's eyes scrutinized their faces. "The Bluejay's execution's taking place in the courtyard now. Everyone's gone to see it. I don't have a taste for executions any more, so that's why I'm here."
Dustfinger sucked in his breath. He felt Farid tense from behind him - understandably.
"Thank you," Dustfinger said, and ushered Farid back into the shadows.
"Let's go check it out." he said, glancing around.
"What?" Farid stared at him. "We wouldn't have time!"
"Yes, we would." Dustfinger replied. "Trust me. It's much more important to know what's going on, Farid, than to play around with fire."
Farid reluctantly followed Dustfinger as he made his way to the courtyard. Most castles were designed in similar ways, and the Castle of Night was no exception. The courtyard wasn't hard to find. The crowd of people that had gathered there were as silent as death. Most of them were just watching without any expression on their faces. Dustfinger and Farid crouched behind an old well in the corner and tried to see what was going on. Dustfinger noticed that no one was even glancing at the gallows that occupied the front of the courtyard. That meant Silvertongue wasn't getting hanged...
It wasn't long before Dustfinger spotted Silvertongue's dark head, in the middle of the yard. It looked like a battle arena - but who was the opponent?
"Who's that?" Farid whispered, pointing.
Dustfinger looked. Then he cursed. It was the Wildcat - he looked exactly as Dustfinger remembered him, over twelve years ago. The Cat had been a strolling player, along with Dustfinger, the Prince, and everyone else. He had demonstrated his strength to audiences - bending metal poles, breaking wooden boards, or sometimes, wrestling with a wolf or bear. But after he murdured a man for gold the Wildcat had found his taste for killing people. And so began his long and brutal career of killing.
The Cat still had his claws - of course. The weapon he had invented himself, so that he could gore and stab opponents, or rather, victims, to death. Dustfinger saw that the battle had just begun. Silvertongue looked all right, except for the bloodied lines across his back, that could only be the marks of a whip. Dustfinger winced and searched for the Adderhead - he was on a platform at the front, right in front of the gallows. And Meggie was there, too; so was the Magpie. Basta was nowhere to be seen.
"Meggie!" Farid murmured, gazing at the girl so lovingly that Dustfinger had to smile. Meggie looked terrified. Her face was ever so pale and eyes wide. A soldier was holding her tightly.
Dustfinger almost didn't hear the clanging of metal on metal. The fight had begun. Dustfinger glanced at the two men, whose limbs were moving almost too fast to see. Then he looked back at Meggie. Farid wouldn't take his eyes off her.
Then Meggie screamed. Dustfinger's head snapped back towards Silvertongue and the Wildcat. They were locked together in a deadly duel; there was blood. Whose it was, Dustfinger couldn't tell. But judging by Meggie's scream...
"Farid! Let's go!" Dustfinger pulled Farid away from the well. If Silvertongue could hang on for just a few more minutes everything would be all right. But if he got killed...
Dustfinger stopped in front of a tower of the central castle. He reached into his backpack and took out a large bottle. It was oil - the kind he soaked his torches in. "Here," he said, handing it to Farid.
"Why - "
"Listen carefully, now, Farid." Dustfinger said in a low voice. "Do you see that door?" he pointed. Farid nodded, clutching the bottle. "Go inside and make your way up to that tower. There's probably only one way; you can't miss it. And all the way you have to pour small amounts of oil behind you, so that you make kind of a trail. Make sure you have some left at the top of the tower. When you get there, poke your head out the window and wait for further instructions, understand?"
Farid nodded. Then he scampered off, nimble as the marten that was probably asleep in his backpack. Dustfinger leaned against the wall and twiddled his thumbs, trying to calm his racing heart. What if it didn't work? What if the Adder's book wasn't here? What if Silvertongue got killed? What if? Suddenly there was a tap from above Dustfinger. Farid. He was triumphantly waving the bottle in the air.
"Good." said Dustfinger, looking up at Farid. "Now pour the rest of the oil down the wall, so that it dribbles all the way down to the ground. Be careful!" The liquid flowed down the silver and onto the dirt. "Now come down, run if you need to, because I'm going to set fire to this thing. Make sure you don't get burned alive!" As soon as Farid nodded and disappeared, Dustfinger whispered the fire-words. The flames sprang up from the ground. As soon as it sensed the oil it pounced, flaring up so brightly that it nearly singed Dustfinger's fingers. The embers climbed up the wall, leaving a flaming trail behind it. When it entered the tower through the window, it began to blaze. Good. The plan was working.
Dustfinger was beginning to worry when Farid was back at his side, sweaty and panting but perfectly fine. "What now?" he said, looking up at the fire, almost proudly.
"Now we go back to Meggie and Silvertongue. And we wait."
So they did. Dustfinger saw both Silvertongue and the Wildcat - both were still in one piece. The Wildcat had a bleeding nose and shoulder, but his face was just as ferocious and beastly as always. As for Silvertongue, the front of his shirt had been slashed open, and was covered in blood. Dustfinger grimaced. The two men were facing each other again - both their weapons, the sword and the claws, were tainted with blood. Just then a soldier sounded the alarm -
"Fire! The castle's on fire!"
Time to go and put Part Two of the plan in action, thought Dustfinger.
The Black Prince stared. Was that really Dustfinger?
"Halt!" he whispered to his men. At least the Bluejay's family weren't here - they were back in the woods, with a few robbers to take care of them.
"Dustfinger?" the Prince said.
"It's me, Prince." Dustfinger said through the barred gate.
"What's going on? How did you get inside?" the boy was beside Dustfinger, looking proud.
"No time to explain. Silvertongue's execution's taking place right now, but he's doing well. I've set the Castle of Night on fire, the Adder's book is inside! I'm going to open this gate for you, Prince. Get inside and help Silvertongue and his daughter escape the castle. Or kill the Adder. Anything that would help. Understand? There's soldiers in there, so get ready to fight - "
"Dustfinger!" the Prince hissed. "What are you saying? How are you going to open that thing?"
"Just trust me!" then Dustfinger was gone, along with the boy. A few uneasy moments later the gate began to open. The Prince gazed up in awe. Dustfinger appeared again, motioning for them to get in. They did.
The Prince drew his sword. He could smell smoke. The central part of the castle was burning - what Dustfinger claimed was his work. Then the soldiers came. The Prince called out to his men; they were already prepared. Swords clashed; men cried out. There were so many soldiers, how were they going to get to wherever the Jay and his daughter was?
"It's not far!" Dustfinger called out to the Prince. "Follow me! Leave the fighting to your men!"
The Prince darted past fighting bodies, relying on his bear for protection. At the same time, he was thinking - Clever, clever Dustfinger. Now, how in the world are we going to get out of this damned, and burning, castle?