Inkdeath
Page 84

 Cornelia Funke

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"Get away!" she said, shooing the magpie off Meggie’s shoulder. The bird croaked angrily and jabbed at Resa with its beak. Meggie was so startled that she spilled the hot soup over her hands.
"Sorry." Resa mopped the liquid off Meggie’s fingers with the hem of her dress. "I can’t stand that bird. I expect it’s because it reminds me of Mortola."
The Magpie of course. It was a long time since Meggie had thought about Capricorn's mother, but then she hadn’t been there when Mortola had shot Mo. Resa had.
"It’s only a bird," said Meggie, her thoughts already far away again, following her father. She had found very little about the Castle in the Lake in Fenoglio’s book.
Deep in the mountains, in the middle of a lake . . . an endless bridge over black water. Was Mo riding over that bridge now? Suppose she and Resa simply followed the Black Prince? Do you hear, Meggie? Whatever happens, stay with the robbers!
Promise me!
Resa pointed to the bowl in her lap. "Do please eat it, Meggie!"
But Meggie turned to Roxane, who was quickly making her way past the children as they sat there eating. Her beautiful face was paler than Meggie had seen it since Dustfinger’s return. Resa stood up, looking anxious.
"What’s happened?" She took Roxane’s arm. "Is there any news? Has anything been heard of Mo? You must tell me!"
But Roxane shook her head. "The Prince. . ." The anxiety in her voice was plainly audible. "He’s not well, and I don’t know what it is. He has terrible stomach cramps.
I have a few roots here that may help him."
She moved on, but Resa held her back again. "Stomach cramps? Where is he?"
Meggie heard the bear’s howl from far away. The Strong Man was looking like a desperate child as they made their way toward him. Battista was there, too, with Woodenfoot and Elfbane. The Black Prince lay on the ground. Minerva was kneeling beside him, trying to get some liquid into his mouth, but he writhed in pain, pressed his hands to his body and struggled for breath. Sweat stood out on his forehead.
"Quiet, bear!" he gasped. He could hardly get the words past his lips; he had bitten them in his pain until they bled. But the bear went on howling and snorting as if his own life were at stake.
"Let me by." Resa pushed them all aside, even Minerva, and took the Prince’s face between her hands.
"Look at me!" she said. "Please, look at me!"
She wiped the sweat from his brow and looked into his eyes.
Roxane came back with a few roots in her hand, and the magpie flapped its way over to Gecko’s shoulder.
Resa stared at it.
"Strong Man!" she said, so quietly that no one but Meggie heard her. "Catch that bird."
The magpie jerked its head as the Black Prince writhed in Ivlinerva’s arms.
The Strong Man looked at Resa, his face streaming with tears, and nodded. But when he took a step toward Gecko, the magpie flew away and perched on a ledge high up below the roof of the cave.
Roxane kneeled beside Resa.
"He’s lost consciousness," said Minerva. "And see how shallow his breathing is!"
"I’ve seen cramps like these before." Resa’s voice was trembling. "The berries that cause them are dark red, not much bigger than a pinhead. Mortola liked to use them because they’re easily mixed with food, and they bring a very painful death. There are two of the trees they grow on just below this cave! I’ve warned the children not to eat the berries." She looked up at the magpie again.
"Is there an antidote?" Roxane straightened her back. The Black Prince lay there as if dead, and the bear pushed his muzzle into his master’s side and moaned like a human being.
"Yes. A flower with tiny white blooms that smell of carrion."
Resa was still looking up at the bird. "The root alleviates the effect of the berries."
"What’s wrong with him?" Fenoglio made his way past the women, a look of concern on his face. Elinor was with him. The pair of them had spent all morning in Fenoglio’s corner of the cave, arguing about what was good in his story and what wasn’t. Whenever someone came near them they lowered their voices like conspirators, as if any of the children or the robbers could have understood what they were talking about.
Elinor put her hand to her mouth with alarm when she saw the Black Prince lying there motionless. She looked incredulous, as if she had found a wrongly printed page in a book.
"Poisoned." The Strong Man stood up, clenching his fists. His face was the dark red color that it usually turned only when he was drunk. He took Gecko by his scrawny neck and shook him like a rag doll. "Did you do this?" he cried. "Or was it Snapper?
Come on, tell us or I’ll beat it out of you! I’ll break all your bones until you’re writhing in agony, too!"
"Let him go!" Roxane snapped. "That’s not going to help the Prince now!"
The Strong Man let go of Gecko and started sobbing. Minerva put her arms around him. But Resa looked up at the magpie again.
"The plant you describe sounds like deathbud," Roxane told her, while Gecko, coughing, rubbed his neck and cursed the Strong Man roundly. "It’s very rare. And even if it grew here it would have died down in the cold long ago. Isn’t there anything else?"
The Black Prince came to his senses and tried to sit up, but he fell back with a groan.
Battista kneeled down beside him and looked at Roxane in search of help. The Strong Man, too, turned his tearful eyes on her like a pleading dog.
"Don’t stare at me like that!" she cried, and Meggie heard the desperation in her voice. "I can’t help him. Try giving him retchwort," she told Minerva. "And I’ll go and look for deathbud roots, though I’m afraid there’s not much point."
"Retchwort will only make it worse," said Resa in a toneless voice. "Believe me, I’ve seen this often enough."
The Black Prince gasped in agony and buried his face against Battista’s side. Then his body suddenly went limp, as if it had lost its battle against the pain. Roxane quickly kneeled down beside him, putting her ear to his chest and her fingers on his mouth. Meggie tasted her own tears on her lips, and the Strong Man began sobbing like a child.
"Still alive," said Roxane. "But only just."
Gecko slipped away, probably to tell Snapper what was going on. But Elinor whispered something to Fenoglio. He turned away angrily, but Elinor held him back and went on talking insistently to him. "Don’t make such a fuss!" Meggie heard her whisper. "Of course you can do it! Are you going to leave him to die?"
Meggie was not the only one to have heard those last words. The Strong Man, bewildered, mopped the tears off his face. The bear groaned again and nuzzled his master’s side. But Fenoglio still stood there, staring at the unconscious Prince. Then he took a hesitant step in Roxane’s direction.
"This. . . er. . . this flower, Roxane. . ."
Elinor stayed right behind him, as if she had to make sure he said the right thing.
Fenoglio looked at her in annoyance.
"What?" Roxane looked at him.
"Tell me more about it. Where does it grow? How tall is it?"
"It likes moist, shady places, but why ask? I told you, it’ll have died down in the frost long ago."