Prologue:

Meggie's POV

I felt I was trapped in a terrifying nightmare; one that in an idealistic world, I would soon awake from. Unfortunately, this was not an idealistic world: this was reality.

An ominous breeze whistled through the trees of the nearby forest, gently rustling the array of golden red leaves. Meggie shivered and moved closer to Doria. The vibrant flames that were emanating from the fire pit made Meggie remember the fire-eater, Dustfinger, and his apprentice, Farid, who were travelling somewhere in the Inkworld.

"Don't think of him, Meggie, he doesn't love you anymore: anyway, he's probably found someone else, like Brianna," Meggie silently reprimanded herself, "Doria loves me now."

What Meggie didn't know, was that Doria's love for her would be distorted.

Farid awoke with a start. Jink, his marten, was biting his toes. This meant that if the marten wasn't fed within the next two minutes, Farid's right foot would be devoured.

"Farid! Time to wake up!" Dustfinger hollered from the adjacent kitchen.

"Five more minutes," a lethargic Farid mumbled, but with no avail.

Dustfinger had come into his room and was proceeding to light Farid's hair on fire.

There are some disadvantages of travelling with a fire-eater, Farid though wryly as he rose from his bed, and blew out the lit match that Dustfinger held in his rough, scarred hands.

"Farid, I had a letter from Mo this morning inviting us to come and visit him, Resa, Elinor and Meggie," remarked Dustfinger, "as they are our friends, I naturally accepted their offer. We leave in ten minutes."

Meggie! Farid's heart leapt at the mention of her name. He pictured Meggie's long, blonde hair and her vibrant, azure eyes. Elation flooded Farid's body. Then he remembered Doria.

That rat! Farid vehemently uttered a blasphemy at Doria, as he threw on a taupe tunic and pants. He had, without warning, stolen Meggie from right under his nose. Farid strode to the mirror opposite his bed and attempted to tame his coarse, ebony hair.

"Farid! There's no time to primp and preen like a peacock!" Dustfinger roared, coming into Farid's small, austere room, "We have to pack our stuff and go."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," yelled Farid, as he stuffed various articles of clothing and possessions into a burlap sack.

Five minutes later, Farid, Dustfinger and the two martins were outside on the dust-filled, dirt road.