Inkspell (Inkheart Trilogy: Book 2)

Twilight was gathering, and Orpheus still wasn’t here.
Farid’s heart beat faster, as it always did when day left him alone with the darkness. Curse that Cheeseface! Where could he be? The birds were falling silent in the trees, as if the approach of night had stifled their voices, and the nearby mountains were turning black. You might have thought the setting sun had singed them. Soon the whole world would be black as pitch, even the grass beneath Farid’s bare feet, and the ghosts would begin to whisper. Farid knew only one place where he felt safe from them: right behind Dustfinger, so close that he could feel his warmth. Dustfinger wasn’t afraid of the night. He liked it.
‘Hearing them again, are you?’ he asked, as Farid pressed close to him. ‘How many times do I have to tell you?