The Fire Eater: An Inkheart Fanfiction

🔥 Captured 🔥

They waited for hours. Dustfinger wished he could at least stretch out his arms. His wrists were already sore from the heavy shackles. The guards had shut them away in the very same vault they had broken into, and the irony of it almost made him want to laugh if it wasn't for their impending doom. Dustfinger pushed himself to his feet and started pacing. He didn't have his tools. Besides the ratty blanket and empty bowl in the corner, he found a couple dust balls and a dead mouse, but nothing he could use to pick the lock.

He glanced at the injured fire-raiser. The boy was a favorite of Basta's who went by the name of Brick. He had fallen asleep sitting with his shoulder against the wall and was slumped over so the only part of his face Dustfinger saw was the bit covered in blood. His right eye was sealed shut and an ugly burn marked his cheek. His breathing was labored, the sound wet and shallow.

Dustfinger paced the small room. He heard the guard outside the door, whistling to himself. The cramped space was driving him crazy and the noise only added to his anxiety. He bit his lip. Would Capricorn come back for them? Did he even think they were still alive? Was he willing to risk an attempt to rescue them? Dustfinger shook his head. Capricorn had left him for dead. He abandoned him, left him unconscious in the middle of the chaos. No, he would have to find a way out of this mess himself.

Dustfinger was light-headed from all the smoke. A generously sized bruise on the back of his skull was giving him a dull, throbbing headache. He didn't know what to do. No one was coming back for them. They had no weapons, no tools, not even a toothpick. And it didn't look like Brick could help him. They were stuck here.

The whistling stopped. Voices erupted outside, muffled by the door. Brick opened his good eye and sat up as the key jangled in the lock. The door swung open, letting in the smell of smoke from the hallway along with three of the Adderhead's guards. Dustfinger took a step back. Two guards rushed forward and grabbed him by the arms, yanking him out. Dustfinger pulled against them and they pushed him to the opposite wall. The remaining guard emerged from the closet with Brick, who shuffled feebly before him without resistance. He was hardly alert at this point. The guards pushed the two of them down the hall and towards a narrow doorway. Dustfinger fought the guards as they pulled him inside. He wasn't ready. He didn't have a plan.

The Adderhead stood before them, tall and imposing. His face was coarse, his gaze stone-hard and hungry for violence. His heavy build was accentuated by the black robe he wore. He narrowed his eyes as he assessed the two boys. "Who are these children?" His voice was cold and unyielding. The sound of it made Dustfinger shrink into himself, anything to turn the Adderhead's attention away from him.

"We found the wounded one unconscious in the hall," The guard said, stepping forward with his helmet clutched in one arm. "The other was trying to escape through the window. They were wearing masks." He faltered, "We think they broke into the castle last night. They might be able to tell us more about your brother's murder."

Snaketongue. Dustfinger clenched his teeth, his face hot. A cold hand clamped itself around his heart and kept it a prisoner within his chest.

The Adderhead's snake-like eyes darkened. "My brother's murder," he whispered. He stared at Dustfinger, and his brow tightened in a deep frown.

Dustfinger glanced away. The red of Brick's face burned in the corner of his eye. The boy was breathing hard, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the carpet beneath him. He swayed where he stood and Dustfinger knew it wouldn't be long before he collapsed. Taking a shaky breath, Dustfinger gathered what little courage he could muster and raised his voice. "He's hurt," he said, nodding towards Brick, "He needs medical attention. He'll bleed to death."

The adderhead stood, fury darkening his face. "Silence, little thief."

The guard grabbed Dustfinger's shoulder and pushed him down to his knees. "You were not permitted to speak."

Dustfinger winced as his kneecaps hit the hard floor. He lowered his head, his heart beating fast, and kept still.

A glint filled the Adderhead's eyes as he studied Dustfinger. The silence screamed in Dustfinger's ears, but he stayed quiet, waiting. The Adderhead looked again at Brick and seemed to register the blood caked on the boy's face for the first time. At last, he straightened. "Take the wounded one away."

The guard nodded grabbed Brick's arm, pulling him away and out of sight. Dustfinger watched them leave and hoped they really would treat him. They might just as easily kill him to put him out of his misery. The newly crowned silver prince was not known for showing mercy, even less so than his recently deceased brother. The remaining guard stood by the door while the Adderhead approached Dustfinger.

Dustfinger swallowed hard and kept his eyes on the floor. As the Adderhead stood near him, goosebumps ran down his arms.

"How old are you?"

Dustfinger frowned, his gaze fixated on a notch in the floorboard. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wasn't even sure how old he was. He could only guess. But why did it matter? Why did he want to know? His motives could only be sinister, and answering him could have no good end.

The Adderhead nodded as if his silence was answer enough. "Do you have family?"

The question was calculated, emotionless. He was assessing him like a predator watching its prey. Dustfinger blinked hard, anger tightening in his jaw. He glared up at the Adderhead, heat stinging his eyes. What did he want from him?

Recognition passed over the man's face and he turned away. He moved behind the desk again, glancing back over his shoulder at Dustfinger. His hands twitched and twisted as he held them behind his back. "Your friends can't help you now, thief. Two of your men died as well as one of ours." He met his eyes with a piercing gaze. "Was it worth it?"

Dustfinger lowered his head and took a deep breath, needles of ice running through his lungs. He closed his eyes, his thoughts racing. He didn't want to betray the fire-raisers for risk of hurting Maalik. But he wasn't willing to die to keep their secrets. Yet if he betrayed Capricorn, he'd be good as dead anyway. He needed an escape plan, or he might never make it out of this alive.

The guard returned. "My prince." He bowed. "The boy is bandaged but I doubt he'll last the night." The words were careless, as if he could toss the boy's life aside like a used rag.

"And what about the girl?"

Dustfinger froze. He knew about the shapeshifter.

"She got away. My men are searching for her as we speak." He looked at Dustfinger. "What about this one? Shall I dispose of him?"

The Adderhead fell silent, his calculated gaze studying him. "No," he said slowly, "the people will want to see justice. We'll make him an example, lest any other fools consider breaking into the Castle of Night."

Dustfinger's breath caught in his throat. His bones trembled under his skin. It was too late.

"Yes, my leige." The man grabbed Dustfinger by the collar, dragging him to his feet.

The guards took Dustfinger's arms and pulled him roughly from the room. As they returned him to the stone vault, Dustfinger saw the burned curtain hanging black from its rod and surrounded by a room of soot. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from its ruined edges, curling and fading into a silent death.