The Fire Eater: An Inkheart Fanfiction

🔥 The Performance 🔥

Dustfinger stood before the Adderhead's advisor, dressed in a jester's outfit made of red and black diamonds. The marble floor of the palace was cold beneath his bare feet. 

"I have come..." Dustfinger's breath caught in his throat and he tightened his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "I have come to dance for the Adderhead to celebrate his coronation as the reigning prince of Argenta."

The Adderhead's advisor regarded Dustfinger with a pinched expression. "We already have dancers, tumblers, and jugglers from the motley folk. They even have a dancing bear. We don't need a dancing street boy as well." He motioned to the guards. "Get him out of here."

Panic raced in Dustfinger's chest. Quickly. Think of something. 

"Um, just, wait." Dustfinger stammered. "Let me—" He lifted his hands as the guard approached him. He rubbed his hands together, and fire leaped from his fingers. Bringing the flames to his cracked lips, he lifted his head and made the fire climb high above their heads.

Both the guard and the advisor froze. "You're hired."

***

Dustfinger waited anxiously inside the palace with the black prince at his side. He wore the red and black jester's costume with his hair tied back in a low ponytail. Strands of ginger hair hung over his eyes. Beside him, Maalik wore a similar costume in black and gold. His brown dreadlocks were tied with a gold ribbon.

Dustfinger glanced at a disguised Firefox as he carried entertainment supplies into the castle. While the castle prepared for the Adderhead's coronation, Dustfinger had let Basta and the other fire-raisers into the castle under the guise of preparing for the coming performance. With the heavy infantry surrounding the castle grounds, this was proving to be their most dangerous job yet. Capricorn had received an anonymous note requesting that he kill a shapeshifter that resided in the Castle of Night. According to their lead, the shapeshifter had been caught on the palace grounds and was imprisoned within a heavily guarded vault. Once the deed was done, Capricorn said they would be rich beyond belief. Dustfinger didn't like it. He was tired of helping the fire-raisers break into homes so they could pillage an murder for some unknown benefactor. But once he and Maalik had their share of the reward, they would have enough money to leave Argenta for good. They had a plan in place, all they had to do was see this last night through.

A commotion made Dustfinger turn his head, followed by a roar. One of the other entertainers dragged a wheeled cage into the palace. Inside was a large brown bear wearing a thick collar. The bear roared in distress, baring its teeth. Dustfinger frowned. The advisor had mentioned a dancing bear. 

"They shouldn't treat an animal like that," Maalik said, glaring at the men who made the bear dance before the court with whips in their hands. "It's cruel."

"Crueler than killing a shapeshifter for gold?"

Maalik sighed, shaking his head. "What have we become, Dustfinger? Is this really worth it?"

Dustfinger lowered his gaze. He didn't know the answer. "Maybe not." 

"The first chance I get, I'm going to free it," Maalik said, watching the bear.

Dustfinger glanced at his friend, studying his intent face, then nodded. He decided Maalik was nobler than any true nobleman Dustfinger had encountered in Argenta. Perhaps he really could become a prince of the motley folk.

***

At last, it was time for Dustfinger to perform as he had promised. Coming as entertainment had been a guise to help the fire-raisers infiltrate the castle, but he still had to impress the Adderhead if he wanted to make it out of this alive. The new silver prince was known for his volatile nature. If he dissaproved of the show, he could have the performers killed.

As Dustfinger and Maalik entered the throne room, the crowd of guests cheered, letting out a roar that made him involuntarily step back. Dustfinger took a deep breath to calm his rattled nerves. Back when he lived at the infirmary as a young orphan, he'd sometimes tried his hand at entertainment to earn some extra coin. Now he was performing for the Adderhead and his wealthy friends. Dustfinger turned to the audience and bowed with the black prince at his side. This crowd was larger than any other he had performed for. They seemed to breathe as one, swelling and contracting in fine clothes and piercing eyes, buzzing with a wild energy.

He took a deep breath, steadying his shaking hands. The crowd fell silent and the stillness cut him deep to the bone. He adjusted the sleeves of his new costume, the red dye bright in the torchlight. He raised his arm upward and the dance of fate began. The music from the carnival band surrounded him. He caught the beat with his feet as he moved, shooting up small spurts of fire as he went. He held on to the slivers of flame and circled them above his head like tiny hawks hunting their prey. 

The black prince danced and tumbled around him, careful to avoid the burning flames. His agility with acrobatics was impressive, though he usually used those skills as a robber rather than an entertainer.

Dustfinger lit a fireball in his hand and began a turn, meaning to send it up into the center of the rotating slivers, but he stumbled at the last second and the ball went askew, shooting up towards the ceiling. The crowd gasped and Dustfinger shot his hand up, pulling back the heat until the fire diminished. The chandelier above them was left unharmed.

Dustfinger glanced at the Adderhead as he formed his hands for a second fireball. The prince watched the performance lazily, his arms slung over the armrests of his throne. Dustfinger's shoulders tightened and he shut his eyes, struggling to calm the anxiety rising in his throat. He had to concentrate.

He shifted his position and looked back up at the fiery ring spinning up above his head. In his stumble, he had lost control of the individual slivers and they had molded into one ring. As it spun, it wavered and dipped, threatening to fall apart without his direction. He whispered to it and brought it back to its original form. He threw the fireball up and through the ring. The ball stopped above the ring and separated, peeling open like a blossom.

He pulled the ring tight and brought it up and pushed it through the center of the blossom. It flattened and burst through the center in an explosion of sparks. The petals curled back and disappeared. What once was the ring had now formed into wings, stretching and reaching in the space above him. He twisted his arm, turning the shapeless wings of fire into a bird.

The crowd gasped in awe as the bird flew about the ring, leaving a glittering trail of sparks as it soared on flickering feathers. Dustfinger let the bird float above the audience, watching hands reach up to touch it just before he moved the burning flames away from their eager fingers.

He gave out a long, low whistle and the bird came towards him. He reached out his arm and let it rest against his knuckles, soft flames caressing his skin with gentle whispers, a loving touch that would burn any other who tried to catch it. He lifted the bird up and let it drift, easy and gentle into the air, scattering into a mist of golden fireflies and escaping into the breeze.

The song ended. The crowd clapped and cheered while Dustfinger bowed on shaky knees. The Adderhead stood, then clapped, and Dustfinger sighed a breath of relief. At his side, the black prince grinned with a familiar glint of mischief in his eye. They'd impressed their audience in a glamorous dance of deciet, but the fun had only just begun.