Summary – I added this to the scene where Capricorn, Basta, and all the other henchmen were burning the books. It's quite angsty…especially for Dustfinger. For Mo, too, coz he feels all guilty and stuff .Its short, and it gets really wierd and Steven King-y at the end when it dives into Dustfinger's mind.

POV – Mostly 3-rd person behind Mo, just coz I needed it to be sorrowful and guilt-ridden. If that makes any sense.

Warnings – pretty angsty. Other than that, none.

Rating – PG

Disclaimer – Inkheart belongs to Cornelia Funke. Any lines you recognize are from the book.

~*ink*~

Mo watched as the gasoline was poured onto the books that were stacked unceremoniously onto the braziers. He had a sneaking suspicion of what was to happen, and he didn't envy Dustfinger one bit. The poor fire-eater was staring on, sorrow growing like a deadly flower on his haggard, scarred face.

"W-where did they all come from?" Dustfinger stammered, "Y-you told me that there was only one copy left – Silvertongue's" Capricorn looked at him impatiently.

"Yes, yes, I told you all kinds of things. You're such a gullible fellow, Dustfinger. It's fun to tell you lies. Your innocence always amazed me – after all, you lie very cleverly yourself," Capricorn was nearly smiling now, and Dustfinger was still staring at the books, obviously contemplating whether or not he should run out and grab one. Capricorn went on, "But you're too ready to believe what you want to believe, that's you're trouble. Well, you can safely believe me now. These," he said, gesturing at the gasoline-coated books, "these really are the last copies of our ink black home. It's taken Basta and the others years to track them all down in shabby lending libraries and secondhand bookshops."

Mo felt sick as he watched the man he had plucked from his own home lunge at the burning books, only to be held back by Flatnose. Capricorn looked extremely amused at this point. "You know, I really don't understand what the fire-dancer missed about that world. Maybe it was all those disgusting creatures," Capricorn looked as if he were speaking of some god-awful disease, "You always did have a way with them. Or maybe it was the way fire behaved in that world. It was so much…tamer there, for you anyway. Oh!" He pretended to think of something, and a cold smile spread across his pale lips. "Maybe it was your beautiful wife! She's the one who earned you those scars, isn't she? Basta found out that you were to be married, and got a bit…temperamental. He always did fancy Roxane, though she hated him. You know, Flatnose was the last of my men to be read out, and he had a few interesting things to tell me. He said Roxane remarried, and had a son," his smile got colder and more malicious as Mo got weak at the knees, "I also heard that your daughter – Brianna, right? – is working for Her Ugliness. She has too, so she can make ends meet. Roxane hasn't sung since her fire-breathing husband left her all alone. It seems as though there was some news about your younger daughter too, though I'm afraid I can't recall…ah! That's it! I heard that she caught the fever, and passed away a couple of years ago." The tall man spoke as if he were chatting about the weather. Dustfinger's shaggy-haired head was hanging now, and Mo could see his shoulders wracking with sobs. Mo felt terrible.

He is alone.

--Dustfinger's POV--

I hated that man. I hated being away from my girls (dead dead your baby girl is gone forever she's dead) I hated missing Roxane (she doesn't miss you gone forever she remarried doesn't love you anymore), the blue faeries, the strolling players. I hated this world.

I hated being alone.

.FIN.