Disclaimer: I don't own Inkheart or it's characters.
"It's your fault Dustfinger's dead. Dead, and now he'll never come back."
Roxane's voice. He couldn't see her because of the darkness, but her voice kept coming to haunt him, and the words she spoke were like daggers to his ears.
"Every tear my mother cries, every tear is your fault."
A new voice. Brianna.
"You pretended to be a son to him. And in the end, he thought he had to die for you."
He could hear the hate in Roxane's voice. And though he could not see her eyes, he could imagine clearly the look of loathing that must be in them.
Farid woke up with a start, gasping for breath. This was the third night in a row he'd been having these dreams. And they were getting worse every time.
He felt as though he were drowning in guilt. He should be dead right now, and Dustfinger should be alive. Oh, if only he knew how to bring him back…
But he couldn't think about that right now. Orpheus would be mad if he wasn't there to bring him his morning coffee.
Sure enough, the first think Orpheus said when he saw him was, "You! Go get my coffee!"
Farid didn't say a word as he turned to the kitchen, though he was seething inside. It had been a month since Dustfinger had died, and still Orpheus did nothing to bring him back.
As he entered the kitchen he saw Brianna working there. She looked at him questioningly, as if to inquire what he was doing there, and he answered, "Orpheus sent me to get his coffee."
Without a word Brianna turned and began to prepare it.
Farid gazed at her hair as she made the coffee. It was the exact same fiery shade as her father's.
Brianna turned to hand Farid the cup of coffe and saw him looking at her.
"Yes, I do look like him, don't I? You don't look anything like him. I don't know why my mother thinks you're his son." She looked at him accusingly. "You should be dead. You should be dead and my father should be alive!"
"I never asked Dustfinger to die for me!" Farid said. "I'm trying to bring him back!"
"He can never come back. He's dead. And it's all your fault, all your fault!" Brianna looked at him, and her eyes were full of hate. "It's your fault I don't have a father anymore, and you're to blame for every tear my mother cries!"
Farid choked back tears. "I wish I was still dead, it felt much better than this!"
He took the cup of coffee and hurried out, to escape those eyes full of loathing, those eyes that made him feel as if he were lower than dirt.
"If only I knew how to bring him back," Farid whispered.
***He was drifting in a sea of blackness, with nothing but voices.
"Every tear my mother cries, every tear is your fault…" Brianna's voice was full of deepest loathing for him.
"I don't have a husband anymore, because of you," Roxane's whisper sounded desperate as she pleaded, "Give me back my husband. Please…"
Then he heard a new voice. One he had never heard before in this sea of blackness.
"You followed me from world to world, manipulating me, clouding my thinking, pretending to be the son I never had. And in the end, I thought I had to die for you. Why didn't you stay in your own world, where you belonged? Why couldn't you let me be happy with my wife and daughter?" Dustfinger's voice was the worst of all. Like a thousand swords his words went straight to Farid's heart.
He was drowning in all that black guilt. It was his fault, all of it was his fault…
"Bring me back my husband," Roxane pleaded desperately again. "Please…"
"I want to bring him back, I just don't know how!"
"Only you can bring Dustfinger back," Roxane said.
"Please, tell me how to bring him back! I don't know how!"
"You do know how, Farid."
Dustfinger's voice again.
The darkness began swirling around Farid, and he felt wind against his face. As the darkness swirled faster the wind got louder, drowning out the voices.
And suddenly everything was quiet. The voices were gone, leaving Fari alone in the sea of blackness.
Farid woke up and gasped for breath. He had to bring him back…
He got out of bad and began walking. He didn't know where he was going, but something seemed to guide his footsteps.
He ended up in the graveyard. Two white women were floating in between the gravestones. When they saw Farid they quickly began to fade, but he summoned fire and called softly, "Please don't go."
The white women looked at the flames in Farid's hands. White women feared fire but longed for its warmth.
"I was dead once, but an exchange was made and I came back. But I don't belong here. Can you bring Dustfinger back, and take me instead?" Farid looked at the white women, his eyes pleading and hopeful.
The white women looked at each other and something seemed to pass through them silently.
If anyone had looked in the graveyard five minutes later they would have seen a man with sandy blond hair looking around at his surroundings curiously, as if he had been asleep for too long and was now excited to be awake. And they would have seen a teenage boy with dark hair, lying on the ground, cold and still.
But no one looked.
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