Inkheart by Cornelia Funke Read Free Book Online Page A

monastery.
    Meggie doubted it. As far as she knew, the monks had worked at desks with sloping tops in the scriptoria of their monasteries, but she kept this information to herself. Instead she took another slice of bread and was just wondering how nice the cheese standing on the supposed scriptorium table would be when she noticed Mo whispering something to Elinor. Since Elinor's eyes widened greedily, Meggie concluded they could only be discussing a book, and she immediately thought of brown paper, a pale green linen binding, and the anger in Mo's voice.
    Beside her, Dustfinger surreptitiously slipped a slice of ham into his backpack for Gwin's supper.
    Meggie saw a round nose emerge from the pack, snuffling in the hope of more delicacies.
    Dustfinger smiled at Meggie when he noticed her looking at him and gave Gwin some more ham.
    He didn't seem to find anything odd about Mo and Elinor's whispering, but Meggie was sure the two of them were planning something secret.
    After a short time Mo rose from the table and went out. Meggie asked Elinor where the bathroom was — and followed him.
    It was a strange feeling to be spying on Mo. She couldn't remember ever doing it before —
    except the night before, when Dustfinger had arrived. And the time when she had tried to find 26

    out whether Mo was Santa Claus. She was ashamed of stealing after him like this, but it was his own fault. Why was he hiding the book from her? And now he might be going to give it to this Elinor — a book Meggie wasn't allowed to see! Ever since Mo had hurriedly hidden it behind his back, Meggie hadn't been able to get it out of her head. She had even looked for it in Mo's bag before he loaded his things into the van, but she couldn't find it.
    She just had to see it before it disappeared, maybe into one of Elinor's display cases! She had to know why it meant so much to Mo that, for its sake, he would drag her all the way here.
    He looked around once more in the entrance hall before leaving the house, but Meggie ducked down behind a chest just in time. The chest smelled of mothballs and lavender. She decided to stay in hiding there until Mo came back. He'd be sure to see her if she went outdoors. Time passed painfully slowly, as it always does when you're waiting for something with your heart thumping hard. The books in the white bookcases seemed to be watching Meggie, but they said nothing to her, as if they sensed that there was only one book Meggie could think about just now.
    Finally, Mo came back carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. Perhaps he's just going to hide it here, thought Meggie. Where could you hide a book better than among ten thousand others? Yes, Mo was going to leave it here and then they'd drive home again. But I would like to see it, thought Meggie, just once, before it's put on one of those shelves I'm supposed to stay three paces away from.
    Mo passed her so closely she could have touched him, but he didn't notice her. "Meggie, don't look at me like that!" he sometimes told her. "You're reading my thoughts again." Now he looked anxious — as if he wasn't quite sure he was doing the right thing. Meggie counted slowly to three before following her father, but a couple of times Mo stopped so suddenly Meggie almost ran into him. He didn't return to the kitchen but went straight to the library. Without looking back once, he opened the door with the Venetian printer's mark on it and closed it quietly behind him.
    So, there stood Meggie among all the silent books, wondering whether to follow him and ask him to show her the book. Would he be very angry? She was just about to summon up all her courage and go after him when she heard footsteps — rapid, firm footsteps, quick and impatient. That could only be Elinor. Now what?
    Meggie opened the nearest door and slipped through it. A four-poster bed, a dresser, silver-framed photographs, a pile of books on the bedside table, a catalog lying open on the rug, its pages full of