"I didn't hear what you were saying anyway," she murmured. "Good." Mo stared out of the window as if Dustfinger were still standing in the yard. Then he rose and went to the door.
"Try to get some sleep," he said.
But Meggie didn't want to sleep. "Dustfinger! What sort of a name is that?" she asked. "And why does he call you Silvertongue?"
Mo did not reply.
"And this person who's looking for you I heard what Dustfinger called him. Capricorn. Who is he?"
"No one you want to meet." Her father didn't turn around. "I thought you didn't hear anything. Good night, Meggie." This time he left her door open. The light from the hallway fell on her bed, mingling with the darkness of the night that seeped in through the window, and Meggie lay there waiting for the dark to disappear and take her fear of some evil menace away with it. Only later did she understand that the evil had not appeared for the first time that night. It had just slunk back in again.
Copyright (c) 2004, Scholastic Books Inc. Reproduced with the permission of Scholastic Books
Blood at the Root
"A gripping, timely, and important examination of American racism."
- PW Starred Review
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