Disclaimer: Characters and locations found in the Inkworld Trilogy belong to Cornelia Funke, not us. We only own the characters we create. :)

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Prologue

Dustfinger carried his youngest daughter in his arms, his oldest walking beside them, carrying the bag containing his supplies in her small hands as they made their way through the trees, back to where the Strolling Players stayed every time they performed in Ombra. A smile played across his lips as he looked at the two children he called his own, Rosanna's small dark curls bouncing in time with the way Brianna's fiery red hair swished from side to side with each step she took to match his.

It had taken quite a bit of convincing from him and pleading from the girls to get Roxane to allow him to take the two of them with to his performance, even if it was only an overnight trip in Ombra. He loved the way their faces lit up as they watched him, but it was so rare for his own family to see him perform in a crowd since Rosanna had been born. Over the past year, Roxane had taken to staying home more and more often, preferring to raise their daughters in a home that didn't change every few days.

She had even begun to grow disappointed whenever he left to perform with the Motley Folk. His response was always the same - he loved spending time with her and their girls, but he'd never lived in one place for long, and he just couldn't grow used to it no matter how hard he tried.

He ran a hand over Brianna's hair as they walked, the corners of his mouth lifting as she looked up at him with a grin that revealed the single gap where a tooth had been just a few days ago. She was full of so much energy compared to her younger sister. Whereas Brianna was practically skipping along the path, Rosanna was slowly drifting off, her head drooping every so often before she jerked it back up again. Eventually she laid her head against his shoulder with a small yawn, pulling one arm in to rest between the two of them as the other reached up to brush her fingers across his cheek.

Her breathing was just beginning to slow when Dustfinger was jerked backwards by the collar of his shirt before being shoved against the trunk of a tree, causing the child to jolt awake with a small cry quickly followed by Brianna's scream as she pressed up against him, clinging to his legs. Before he could react, the sharp edge of a knife pressed against the skin just under his chin as an all too familiar face appeared out of the darkness. .

"Hello again Fire-Dancer," the man said in a low voice, making Dustfinger tense, his grip immediately tightening on both Rosanna and Brianna.

"B - Basta," he forced out. "I wasn't expecting to see you around here."

"Or your leader," he added, his voice softening in surprise as Capricorn, the head of the feared group of fire raisers stepped out from behind another tree, the cold smile on his face just visible in the pale moonlight.

Dustfinger's muscles tensed even more as he felt Basta's breath against his face, the man having moved closer in order to be heard over Rosanna's sobs.

"I told you I'd be back for you," the fire raiser hissed. "I'm going to finish what I started and then you'll be so unrecognizable, even the minstrel woman won't recognize you."

As Dustfinger swallowed nervously against the blade, he could feel Brianna press herself closer to him, trusting him to protect them. He laid his hand on her back, hoping that the darkness hid the slight tremor of his fingers as he held her close to him.

"Come now," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I'm sure you've found another woman you want by now. There's really no reason to finish this."

His gaze flicked over to Capricorn for an instant, just long enough to see the man lean back against a tree, an expression of amusement on his face as if he was about to watch an extremely entertaining performance, before he looked back to see Basta looking at Rosanna with an expression of utter annoyance.

"Loud little brat, isn't she?" he muttered before looking back at Dustfinger, his voice lowering threateningly. "But you see, I think there is reason to finish this, Fire-Dancer. I promised you, didn't I? And I always go through with my promises."

Dustfinger winced slightly, almost as if he could already feel the knife biting into his skin, continuing where Basta had left off, from just a few words. How was he supposed to get both himself and his daughters out of this without harm?

His eyes snapped back to Capricorn as the head fire raiser stepped forward, reaching his hands out as if to take Rosanna.

"Here, let me help you with that, Basta," he said as Rosanna cowered away from him further into Dustfinger's arms. "Can't exactly go on with all that threatening you love so much with a baby in the way."

"Daddy," the small child whimpered, tears still sliding down her cheeks as Dustfinger's grip tightened.

The fire raiser never got the chance to get any closer, however, before something in their surroundings suddenly changed. Rosanna's cries immediately softened, and both the fire raisers and their intended victim froze as the familiar landscape of Lombrica disappeared; even the bark of the tree that Dustfinger had been shoved against was no longer digging into his back.

A soft gasp behind him made Basta whip around, letting Dustfinger go in the process as he brandished his knife at the man staring at them in utter terror from the other side of the small room. Dustfinger quickly looked around their new surroundings, utter confusion and panic quickly building inside him as he realized how unfamiliar this place was and that his eldest daughter was nowhere to be found.. He quickly put Rosanna down behind him in case Basta's attention returned to him before he could figure out the way to get them out of here. He didn't even care where here was at the moment. He just needed to get his daughter away from these men.

He could feel the tug of tiny hands clutching his pants leg as Rosanna pulled herself unsteadily to her feet behind him, her cries returning to a louder volume now that the surprise had worn off. He took a small step back and held his hands out as the man in front of them picked up Capricorn's sword from where it had fallen to the floor at his feet, pointing it shakily at the three of them.

Suddenly, Capricorn's hand shot out and grabbed Dustfinger, pulling the fire-dancer in between himself and the sword as he and Basta slowly backed towards the door at the other end of the room.

"You're not getting away from us that easily, Fire-Dancer," he hissed into Dustfinger's ear.

Dustfinger's gaze flew back to Rosanna, her cries reaching an even higher pitch as she called for him, sitting on the floor with her arms reaching out to him.

"No," he gasped as he struggled against Capricorn's grip. "Rosanna."

He had to get back to her. They couldn't take away the one thing he was sure he still had. He couldn't lose his baby.

He continued to struggle as he was dragged towards the door leading out of the house, away from his daughter, but as he was forced out onto the street, he stopped. He wasn't strong enough to get away from even one of them by force, much less both of them.. He'd have to figure out another way, and soon. He had to get back to Rosanna.

He closed his eyes for a moment in defeat as he was forced to go with Basta and Capricorn, his daughter's sobs fading as he was dragged further and further away.

Dustfinger leaned against a tree with a sigh and closed his eyes. He'd walked so far today, feeling completely hopeless through most of it. Though, if he was truly honest with himself, he'd felt that way for the past two years. The most confusing and miserable years that he could remember ever experiencing. He still had no idea where he was, or how he'd gotten there. He just knew that it was the loudest, most terrifying place he'd ever been. But he refused to even consider looking for a way back until he had his little girl back in his arms. She would be three by now… And he hadn't seen her since that terrible night.

By the time he'd finally managed to get away from Capricorn and Basta, it had taken him weeks to make it back to the house he remembered as the last place he'd seen his daughter. But in that amount of time, the man he'd seen pointing a sword at them had completely disappeared, along with Rosanna. The only familiar thing he'd found there was Gwin hunting in the nearby bunch of trees. It had taken much pleading to convince one of the neighbors to tell him that the man and two little girls - strange because he only had the one that people could remember - had moved, very suddenly it seemed.

But now, after so much searching, he had a feeling that he was in the right place. He opened his eyes and looked across the street at a small house shoved between two others that were nearly identical to it.

Please let this be the one, he silently pleaded as he quietly made his way across the street.

He stepped up to the door and raised his hand to knock, but stopped just before it could touch the wood. Lowering it, he glanced back to the tree at the other side of the road where he had left Gwin behind, as he contemplated just turning around and leaving. He'd checked so many houses in the past two years, this one probably wasn't the right one either. Which meant that it would only lead to yet more heartbreak when he realized his daughter was still gone.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head and raised his hand again. No; he wouldn't turn around when he was this close. There was just as much of a possibility that Rosanna really was inside this house. And if that was true, he would never forgive himself for leaving her again. He hesitated for one more second before knocking on the door, taking a step back as he realized that he had actually done it..

After waiting for a moment, the sound of the handle turning let him know someone was answering just as the door opened. As he met the shocked gaze of the man he hadn't seen in two years, his mouth opened slightly as he realized that he'd actually found him. In his arms was a small child who was obviously very sick. Her small face was flushed red with fever, her breaths coming more labored than they should through sleep as she instinctively kept trying to breathe through her stuffed nose. Sweat made her dark curls stick to her skin, and even her thin nightgown clung to the dampness of her skin. It had to be Rosanna. His Rosanna; but she was so much bigger now.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked worriedly, any possible formalities thrown to the wind as his eyes stayed glued to his daughter.

The man holding Rosanna immediately angled his body so that Rosanna was further away from him, looking at him with distrust.

"She'll be fine," was the only answer he gave, but it seemed much more serious than what the man was saying.

Dustfinger couldn't take his eyes away from her for a long moment, his eyes tracing her face as if to memorize it. She looked even more like her mother now that she was bigger, and it had only been two years. Finally, his gaze moved back to the man holding tightly to Rosanna.

"She's my daughter," he said worriedly. "You know that, don't you?"

He paused as he waited for some kind of reaction from the man before continuing on as he received none. "Please. I've been looking everywhere for you."

"I'm sorry Dustfinger," the man replied, shaking his head as he moved to close the door. "But you can't take her now. It's been too long."

Dustfinger's hand quickly shot out, stopping the door before it could close. He looked desperately at Rosanna, wanting so badly to hold her in his arms. To comfort her, let her know he was there for her.

"She's my daughter," he said again as if the man wasn't understanding. "You can't take her away from me. She's the only thing I have left."

"It's been two years, Dustfinger," the man replied, irritance growing in his voice as he glanced down at the hand holding his door open. "She probably doesn't even recognize you. I'm her father in her eyes and Meggie is her sister. Neither of them really remember what happened. Neither of them really remember you. You want to put them through adjusting to all that again? It took Rosanna forever to completely adjust and she was a baby then. You want to put her through that again?"

Rosanna made a small noise in her sleep as she moved slightly. Dustfinger watched, muscles tense, as the man ran a hand down her dark curls, comforting her until she settled back down. Of course he didn't want to put her through any emotional distress; he was her father. But this man standing in front of him didn't seem to understand that he still needed her back.

"You can't tell me that you wouldn't want your daughter back if she had been taken from you," he said quietly, looking back up into the man's face. "Snatched away for two long years. And then you finally find her only to be told that the person who took care of her has grown too attached to give her back to her own father. Tell me you wouldn't want her back even then."

He could tell from the silence that followed that he was right. No parent would be satisfied letting their child be taken away from them like that. But still the man's expression became more frustrated.

"What are you even going to do with her?" he asked, obviously louder than he had intended by the look on his face as Rosanna jerked awake with a small cry.

Dustfinger watched as his daughter looked from the face of the man holding her to his own, her eyes lingering on him until the man laid her back down again, whispering to her. He watched her reach up to run her fingers over the man's face as she blinked heavily, the fever obviously draining her of all of her energy. He barely even registered that the man was opening his mouth to resume speaking as he watched her eyes meet his, staying there until she finally drifted back to sleep.

"Do you even have a home?" the man asked softly, the hostility that remained tearing Dustfinger's attention away from Rosanna. "A job? A car? She's sick. Do you even know how to handle it? Could you help her? Do you know what medicines to give her? Do you have the money to pay for those medicines?"

Dustfinger jerked back as if he'd been slapped. The realization of how little he had weighed down on him, feeling as if it would crush him.

He looked back down at Rosanna, remembered the short instant when she had opened her eyes and looked at him, watching him as she fell back asleep. He knew he'd never be able to take care of her while she was sick like this. But he couldn't just leave her; not when he'd just found her.

"At least let me see her every once in awhile," he pleaded softly, closing his eyes against the pain of the words that he was forcing himself to say. "Please. Don't keep her from me."

It was silent for a moment before the man replied with a slightly annoyed sigh. "Fine. Fine, you can see her sometimes."

Dustfinger nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief. As long as he would be able to know she was safe and happy, he might be able to resign himself to the fact that he couldn't take care of her for now. He just had to remember that his daughter could be kept from him completely if this man really wanted to and that he should be grateful that he would at least be able to see her.

"Is it alright if I come back in a few days to make sure she's okay?" he asked quietly, giving his daughter another worried look.

The man gave a stiff nod, absentmindedly brushing a hand over the little girl's hair again as she slept. Dustfinger couldn't help but notice that the man had tightened his grip on her as he did so. His hand twitched slightly at his side, wishing he could take her small hand in his just once, but knowing that the man would never allow it.

"Come back then," the man said, moving to close the door again.

Dustfinger nodded, taking one more look at his daughter before forcing himself to turn away, wincing as he heard the door click shut behind him.

Dustfinger froze in the open doorway of the same house he'd been at only days before. It was obviously empty; the door unlocked and ajar, most of the furnishings gone, others scattered about as if they'd been dropped by someone in a hurry. Anger and despair churned in his chest as the realization that he'd been lied to hit him. His baby was gone again, just like that. She'd been so sick when he'd seen her. Why couldn't he have at least been able to make sure she was healthy before she was snatched away from him again?

He walked through the small house, looking around at all of the signs of life that had been deserted. He stopped in the doorway of one of the rooms as he noticed small marks on the wall next to it. There were two rows, one a bit taller than the other, with a single symbol above each one. It vaguely resembled the writing that the merchants would sometimes use on their stalls to let the higher stationed shoppers know what was being sold. He ran his fingers along the lower marks, images of the last time he'd seen his daughter playing through his mind.

As he walked further into the house, he paused, looking through one of the open doorways into a room with two small beds, flowers painted along one wall. As he took a step inside, he heard a snap and quickly looked down, his eyes landing on a piece of glass under his boot. He bent down to examine what was beneath it, his eyes widening as he saw the smiling face beneath it. He carefully moved the piece of glass and broken wood that surrounded it as he picked it up, staring at the small face of Rosanna looking back at him. He brushed his finger across it before carefully sliding the picture into an inside pocket of his jacket.

As he moved to get up, his eyes caught on something partially hidden behind the door. His hand hovered just above it as he recognized it for what it was. He wrapped his fingers around the small doll as he picked it up and stared at it as he straightened up. He remembered the days Roxane had spent making this while she was pregnant. She had made one for Brianna when she was born too. Rosanna had had this every day since she was born. She'd absolutely refused to go anywhere without it, which was why it had been in his bag the day everything had been taken from him.

He slowly placed it in the same pocket as her picture, making sure that it wouldn't fall out. As he looked around the empty room once more, he was positive that they were gone. He took a deep breath before walking out again, shutting the door behind him. He would just start over until he found them again. He wasn't going to let his daughter slip away from his this easily.

After he had stepped out of the house, pulling the door closed behind him, he stopped to look at the house once more before he left to resume his search for his daughter. He jumped at the sound of a door slamming beside him, turning to see an older woman climbing out of what he'd by now learned was called a car after he'd almost gotten hit by them several times.

"Oh, are you looking for Mo?" the woman asked him as she put her bag over her shoulder. "They just moved a day or two ago. Right in the middle of his daughter being sick too. She's in the hospital now, you know. Poor thing's fever wouldn't go down."

The woman shook her head sadly before wishing him a good day and walking into her house as he stared after her. Her last words echoed in his mind as he turned and walked away stopping only long enough for Gwin to scramble up onto his shoulder before he began walking again. She had to be alright. This Mo had told him that he was able to take care of her. Unless he had lied about that too… No. He refused to believe that, not with the way he had looked at Rosanna - as if she was his daughter too.

He stopped and pulled out the picture of her, looking at it as he tried to calm his racing heart. He'd find her again. And when he did, there was no way he was letting her go again. Not after this.