Hey everyone.
This is my first fanfic for the Inkheart trilogy and it will be continuing where Inkspell left off. This chapter is going to be from Dustfinger's point of view and will tell what happened to him after he traded his life for Farid's. I might have the next chapter with Meggie and the others. Hope you like it.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Inkheart or Inkspell. Both of those books and the third too, belong to the wonderful Cornelia Funke.
The White Women were all around him now, for they had accepted his offer of trade. Dustfinger's own life spent with them for an eternity in exchange for the boy, Farid. Strangely, he felt no fear, no sadness, or any other emotion anymore, just tiredness. The tiredness had settled over him like a great weight, and he could feel it pulling harder and harder. He started to fall towards the cave floor while all around him the White Women whispered.
The last thing Dustfinger saw was the beautiful Roxane illuminated by the light of the fiery letters he had wrote on the wall. He decided it was a good last sight of this world.
Slowly, cautiously, Dustfinger opened his eyes and shakily stood up. He looked warily around, and for a second thought he was still back in his own world. For he was in a cave, not unlike the one where not so long ago he had been looking down at Farid's still body. But everything was pale, so pale. It seemed as if this world he was standing in right now was just a ghost of the world he had left, with its colors seeped out of it till all that was left were varying shades of grays. Vaguely, he wondered where all the other dead souls were.
Dustfinger gave a small sad smile. So it had worked. There was a grain of truth in that story, the one of the fire-eater who had summoned the White Women to get his son back. Actually, more that just a grain of truth considering the fact that he was here right now.
Not until he looked at the landscape more closely did Dustfinger finally notice the White Women. There were ten or so of them surrounding him. They blended in with the colorless background so well they he hadn't seen them at first. The fire-eater felt a chill fall over him. Besides being pale, this world was so cold…
"Well, what is it you want?" He knew what they wanted, an eternity of him summoning fire for them, but he had to say something to break the freezing silence.
"Bring us fire," they whispered together in soft voices. At their voices Dustfinger shivered. He had heard their voices, but they weren't spoken out loud. They seemed to come from inside of his own head. And just like the landscape, their voices were soft and almost dream-like. Even right after hearing them, he wondered if he had just imagined them.
"Where am I?" He asked. But the White Women just shook their heads, and Dustfinger thought he saw their ghostly faces growing impatient. With an almost unnoticeable quiet sigh Dustfinger began calling out to the fire, his oldest friend. It was very hard at first. Fire had never been here, and it was reluctant to go to this strange cool world, even for Dustfinger. But Dustfinger was a master of the art, maybe even the finest fire-eater the Inkworld had ever known. Slowly and patiently he coaxed the fire out from the world of the living and into this one. Soon it was glowing brightly on his fingertips, leaping happily across his hands.
The White Women leaned closer to the flames, but they did not take any steps nearer to it. For although they longed for its warmth, they were afraid of it too. And with another small sad smile Dustfinger made the fire into flowers just like he had countless amounts of times before.
Sorry this was so short. Hopefully, the next chapter will be longer.
Review please and tell me what you think of the story so far!!
PiratesforLife
