Inkheart-Club

The earth was moving beneath him, with a rumbling, rolling speed. Farid clenched his hands into fists and squeezed his eye shut. An earthquake. He hated these hellish things, almost as much as he hated sandstorms. Any moment now, the captain of the thieves would shout at him to tie up the camels and the provisions, and the thieves would tie themselves together, and Farid would be left to the mercy of the angry ground.   When the order didn’t come, though, he opened his eyes, curiosity overruling his instincts, which screamed to keep them shut. Darkness filled his vision, but it wasn’t the velvet darkness of night, or the gritty