This fic was inspired by the song 'No Quarter', and I immediately thought of the Inkworld once Dusfinger was drawn into ours. Disclaimer: I do not own Inkheart/Inkspell (as much as I would like a horned marten) and those belong to the beloved Cornelia Funke. No Quarter is by the mighty Led Zeppelin and I don't own the rights to that one (although I have the CD)

Close the doors, put out the light

You know they won't be home tonight

Roxane peered out the entrance of the strolling players' secret camp. How long had he been gone now, four weeks? Five weeks? Winter was coming in hard bringing snow, sleet, and chilling winds with it. She kept telling herself that Dustfinger would come home. He always did. The Black Prince had set out to look for him also. Footsteps came up behind her; it was Cloud Dancer. "Roxane," he said gently, "We have to close off the entrance for tonight,"

She nodded grimly, taking one last look at the white snow.

The snow falls hard and don't you know

The winds of Thor are blowing cold

Inside the camp, Brianna rushed up to her, pulling at the hem of her dress. "Did anyone come, Mummy?" she asked eagerly.

"Not tonight,"

"I'm cold, Mummy,"

Any other night, Roxane would tell Brianna to find her father. He would have made gentle flames leap out of the ground, giving warmth. Tonight, Roxane wrapped a blanket around her daughter. She stepped over to where Rosanna was sleeping and sat down next to her. Even from the secret camp, which was deep within the earth, the bitter winds could be heard. Suppose Dustfinger was out in these very same winds…

They're wearing steel that's bright and true

They carry news that must get through

The Black Prince and his men had found shelter, or more so, a place so dense with trees that little snow fell upon the earth. The Prince raised his head at the distant sound of horses. Motioning his men to find cover, he became tense as the sounds became louder. The bear next to him growled low from his throat. The sound of trotting hooves stopped, and voices began. It sounded like Cockerell: "This is pointless! How can the Magpie expect us to search for Capricorn and Basta in this weather? Much less deliver the news that they're missing to the Adderhead!"

The second voice, not recognizable came: "I don't mind if Basta takes a trip to the white women, but if Capricorn doesn't show up, Morlota always takes charge of the place."

"True. Looking on the bright side, we might get snowed in at the castle of night for a week or two…"

Laughter. "Any idea where they could have gone? Basta and Capricorn, I mean,"

"Not in the slightest. Come on, let's get going, or we'll have Night Mares to worry about as well of dying out here in the cold,"

The horses started up and became fainter. So now three people were missing; Dustfinger, Capricorn, and Basta.

They choose the path where no one goes

They hold no quarter,

They hold no quarter.

Oh...

The Prince stood up, brushing snow off himself and the bear. "Well," he said, "You heard Cokerell and the other fire raiser. There's no more we can do tonight. Take the hidden path to the camp; I don't fancy running into any other of Capricorn's men."

Walking side by side with death The devil mocks their every step

"What's the hold up?" A man from the back of the group called. He fell silent. Three white women were gliding next to the search party. Their faces were icy and set. Gliding soundlessly over the snow, they watched as the bitter cold claimed many lives that night throughout the land.

The snow drives back the foot that's slow

The dogs of doom are howling low

Rosanna was sleeping in her mother's arms. Brianna had drifted off a little ways away. Roxane herself was gazing towards the entrance to the camp, thinking of her husband. She knew would come back, he always did. But the question was when: tomorrow? A week? A month? A year? Forever? She dared not think it. She could no bear to be without him for that long. Dustfinger had always been a vagabond, but this was different. Above the earth the winds could be heard howling, like the hounds of hell under Death's command.

They carry news that must get through

To build a dream for me and you

The Black Prince and his men were covered in snowflakes, the cold biting at their exposed faces. All of them were tired, but the Prince pushed on. If they made good time, perhaps they could reach the camp, or at least a spot with denser trees. Frightful winds blew against the search party, slowing their pace until it was not much more than trudging through the snow. The white woman had strayed off the path, but glimpses of them could still be caught through the trees.

They choose the path that no one goes

They hold no quarter,

Cockerell and the other one of Capricorn's men were getting worried, although they hid it behind masks of annoyance. The Castle of Night should be coming up soon, provided the horses did not freeze to death. Whenever Cockerell thought he caught a glimpse of silver towers, it was only the glittering snow.

They ask no quarter,

They hold no quarter,

White women appeared inside the secret camp. They made their way over to the minstrel with the bad cough and kneeled down beside him. Roxane bit her lip as they moved closer and closer to the man. Although her daughters were asleep, she held them closer, and tried to think of other things. She thought of sunshine, opal pools, new budding flowers, fire flowers, Dustfinger… she closer her eyes hard, but a single icy tear ran down her face.

They ask no quarter... they think about no quarter... With no quarter quarter.

Oh No...

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