But you once saw it quite differently, Elinor! she reminded herself, wiping the tears from her eyes. So what? Wasn’t she old enough to change her mind, to bury an old love that had betrayed her miserably? They had not let her in. All the others were between their pages now, but she wasn’t. Poor Elinor, poor, lonely Elinor! She sobbed so loudly that she had to put her hand over her mouth.
Darius cast her a sympathetic glance and hesitantly came to her side. Well, at least he was still with her, that was one good thing. And of course he could read her thoughts in her face, as always. But he couldn’t help her, either.
I want to be with them, she thought despairingly. They’re my family: Resa and Meggie and Mortimer. I want to see the Wayless Wood and feel a fairy settle on my hand again, I want to meet the Black Prince even if it means smelling his bear, I want to hear Dustfinger talking to fire even if I still can’t stand the man! I want, I want, I want…
“Oh, Darius!” sobbed Elinor. “Why didn’t the wretched fellow take me, too?” But Darius just looked at her with his wise, owl-like eyes.
“Hey, where did he go? That bastard still owed me money!” Sugar went to the place where Orpheus had disappeared and looked all around him, as if Orpheus might be stuck among the bookshelves somewhere. “Damn it, what does he think he’s doing, just vanishing like that?” He bent down and picked up a sheet of paper.
The sheet of paper that Orpheus had been reading from! Had he taken the book with him but left behind the words that had opened the door for him? If so, then all was not lost after all. . With determination, Elinor snatched the sheet of paper from Sugar’s hand. “Give me that!” she demanded, clutching it to her breast just as Orpheus had clutched the book. The wardrobe-man’s face darkened.
Two very different feelings seemed to be struggling with each other on his face: anger at Elinor’s boldness, and fear of the written words that she was pressing to her breast so passionately. For a moment Elinor wasn’t sure which would get the upper hand. Darius came up behind her, as if he seriously intended to defend her if necessary, but luckily Sugar’s face cleared again, and he began to laugh.
“Well, fancy that!” he mocked her. “What do you want that scrap of paper for? Do you want to disappear into thin air, too, like Orpheus and the Magpie and your two friends? Feel free, but first I want the wages Orpheus and the old woman still owe me!” And he looked around Elinor’s library as if he might see something in it that would do instead of payment.
“Your wages, yes, of course, I understand!” said Elinor quickly, leading him to the door. “I still have some money hidden in my room. Darius, you know where it is. Give it to him, all that’s left, just so long as he goes away.”
Darius did not look very enthusiastic, but Sugar gave such a broad smile that you could see every one of his bad teeth. “Well, that sounds like sense at last!” he grunted and stomped after Darius who, resigned to this development, led him to Elinor’s room.
But Elinor stayed behind in the library.
How quiet it suddenly was there. Orpheus had indeed sent all the characters he had read out of their books back into them again. Only his dog was still there, tail drooping as it sniffed the spot where its master had been standing only a few minutes before.
“So empty!” Elinor murmured. “So empty.” She felt desolate. Almost more so than on the day when the Magpie had taken Mortimer and Resa away. The book into which they had all disappeared was gone. What happened to a book that disappeared into its own story?
Oh, forget the book, Elinor! she thought as a tear ran down her nose. How are you ever going to find them again now?
Orpheus’s words. They swam before her eyes as she looked at the paper. Yes, they must have taken him over there, what else? Carefully, she opened the glass case on which the paper had been lying before Orpheus disappeared, took out the book inside it a wonderfully illustrated edition of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales signed by the author himself – and put the sheet of paper in its place.
Chapter 76 – A New Poet
The joy of writing
The power of preserving,
Revenge of a mortal hand.
– Wislawa Szymborska, “The Joy of Writing”, View with a Grain of Sand
At first Orpheus could hardly be seen in the shadows filling the gallery like black breath. He stepped hesitantly into the light of the oil lamp by whose light Meggie had been reading. She thought she saw him put something under his jacket, but she couldn’t make out what it was.
Perhaps a book.
“Orpheus!” Farid ran to him, still holding Dustfinger’s backpack in his arms.
So he was really here. Orpheus. Meggie had imagined him very differently .. as much more impressive. This was just a man who was rather too stout, still very young, in an ill-fitting suit, and he looked as out of place in the Inkworld as a polar bear or a whale. In addition, he seemed to have lost his tongue. He stood there in a daze, looking at Meggie, at the dark gallery down which he had come, and finally at Farid, who had obviously entirely forgotten that the man he now greeted with such a radiant smile had stolen from him and betrayed him to Basta at their last meeting. Orpheus didn’t even seem to recognize Farid, but when he finally did it brought back his voice.
“Dustfinger’s boy! How did you get here?” he faltered. And yes, Meggie had to admit that his voice was impressive, much more impressive than his face. “Well, never mind that. This must be the Inkworld!” he went on, taking no more notice of Farid. “I knew I could do it! I knew I could!”
A self-satisfied smile spread over his face. Gwin leaped up, hissing, as he almost trod on his tail, but Orpheus didn’t even notice the marten. “Fantastic!” he murmured as he ran the palm of his hand over the gallery walls. “I suppose this is one of the passages that lead to the princely tombs under the castle of Ombra.”
“No, it’s not,” said Meggie coldly. Orpheus – in league with Mortola – a magic-tongued deceiver.
How empty his round face looked! No wonder, she thought with great dislike, as she rose from the place where Dustfinger had slept. He has no conscience, no sympathy, no heart. Why had she brought him here? As if there weren’t enough of his sort in the Inkworld. I did it for Farid, replied her heart, for Farid…
“How are Elinor and Darius? If you’ve done anything to them .. ” Meggie didn’t finish her sentence. If he had, then what?
Orpheus turned, with as much surprise as if he hadn’t seen her at all before. “Elinor and Darius?
Oh, are you that girl who apparently read herself here?” His eyes became watchful. Obviously, he remembered what he had done to her parents.
“My father almost died because of you!” Meggie was angry with herself for the way her voice shook.
Orpheus blushed childishly red, whether in annoyance or embarrassment Meggie couldn’t have said, but whichever it was he quickly recovered. “Well, how can I help it if Mortola had a score to settle with him?” he replied. “And from what you say I take it that he’s still alive, so there’s nothing to get upset about, is there?” Shrugging, he turned his back to Meggie. “Strange!” he murmured, glancing at the rubble at the end of the gallery, the narrow ladders and the props supporting the roof. “Will someone explain exactly where I am? This looks almost like a mine, but I didn’t read anything about a mine. . ”
