Reckless (Mirrorworld #1)

Reckless (Mirrorworld #1) Page 41

"Make sure she doesn't leave the room before the morning," Jacob told him. "And be careful. She's a shape-shifter."

The soldier didn't look too happy about his task, but he nodded and took Fox's arm. The despair in her eyes was painful, but losing her would have hurt much more.

"She will kill you!" Her eyes were drowning in tears and anger.

"Maybe," Jacob replied. "But it won't make it any better if she does the same to you."

The soldier dragged her back to the room. She fought like a vixen, and before they reached the door she nearly broke free.

"Jacob! Don't go!"

He could still hear her voice as the elevator opened into the lobby. For one moment he actually wanted to go back up, just to wipe the anger and fear from her face.

The other soldier was clearly relieved that Jacob hadn't picked him to look after Fox. On their way to the palace, Jacob learned that he came from a village in the south, that he still thought his life as a soldier was exciting, and that he obviously had no idea whom Jacob was hoping to find in the imperial gardens.

The large gate on the rear side of the palace was open to the public only once a year. His guide took forever opening the lock. Jacob once again missed his magic key and all the other items he had lost in the fortress of the Goyl. The soldier chained the gate again as soon as Jacob had slipped past him. Then he took up his position with his back to the gate. Donnersmarck, of course, would want to know whether Jacob ever came out again.

The sounds of the city could be heard in the distance — the horses and carriages, the drunkards, the street vendors, and the calls of the night watchmen — but in the Empress's garden, fountains gurgled peacefully, and from the trees came the songs of the artificial nightingales — which Therese had gotten for her last birthday form one of her sisters. A few of the palace windows still had light behind them. The stairs and balconies, however, were eerily quiet for the eve of an imperial wedding. Jacob tried not to think about where Will was.

It was a cold night, and his boots left dark prints on the frost-glazed lawn, but the grass absorbed the sound of his steps better than the gravel paths did. Jacob didn't have to look for the Dark Fairy's footprints. He knew where she'd gone. The centerpiece of the imperial gardens was a pond, which was as densely covered with water lilies as the Fairy lake. And here, too, there were willow trees leaning out over the dark water.

The Fairy was standing by the shore, the light of the stars on her hair. The two moons caressed her skin, and Jacob felt his hatred drown in her beauty, but the memory of Will's stone face quickly brought it back.

She spun around as she heard his steps approaching, and he pulled open his black coat, exposing the white shirt beneath, just as her sister had instructed him. "White as snow. Red as blood. Black as ebony." One color was missing.

The Dark Fairy swiftly unfastened her hair, but as the moths emerged, Jacob pulled the blade of his knife across his arm. He smeared blood onto his white shirt, and the moths tumbled down as if he'd singed their wings.

"White, red, black..." he said, wiping the blade clean on his sleeve. "Snow-White colors. That's what my brother used to call them. He liked that story a lot, but who would've thought they had such power?"

"How do you know about the colors?" The Fairy took a step back.

"Your sister told me."

"She thanks you for abandoning her by telling you our secrets?"

Don't look at her, Jacob. She's too beautiful.

The Fairy slipped off her shoes and walked toward the water. Jacob felt her power as clearly as the cold night air.

"It seems what you did is even harder to forgive," he said.

"Yes, they are still offended because I left them." She laughed quietly. The moths slid back into her hair. "Still, I can't imagine what my sister thought she'd gain by telling you about the three colors. It's not that I need my moths to kill you."

She took a step back. The water of the pond closed over her naked feet. The night began to whir, as if she were turning the air itself into black water.

Jacob could barely breathe.

"I want my brother back."

"Why? I simply made him what he was meant to be." The Fairy brushed her hand through her shimmering hair. "Do you want to know what I think? I think my sister is still too much in love with you to kill you herself. So she sent you to me."

He felt her beauty washing away everything, the hatred that had brought him here, the love for his brother, and himself. Do not look at her, Jacob! He clutched his injured arm so that the pain would protect him. The wound caused by his brother's sword. He squeezed it so hard that blood began to run over his hand, and he remembered. Will's face distorted into hatred. His lost brother.

The Dark Fairy stepped toward him.

Yes. Closer.

"Are you really so arrogant as to believe that you could come here and make demands of me?" she said, stopping right in front of him. "Did you really think that just because one Fairy couldn't resist you, we're all doomed to fall for you?"

"No, it's not that," Jacob said.

Her eyes widened as he touched her white arm. The night began to weave a web around his mouth, but Jacob uttered her name before she could silence his tongue.

The Dark Fairy pushed him from her and raised her hands, as though she could still fend off the fatal syllables. But her fingers were already transforming into twigs, and her feet were pushing roots into the soil. Her hair turned to leaves, and her skin to bark, and her cry sounded like the wind rushing through the branches of a willow.

"It is a beautiful name," Jacob said, stepping under the hanging branches. "Such a pity it may only be uttered in your realm. Did you ever tell it to your lover?"

The willow groaned, and its trunk bent over the pond, weeping over its own reflection.

"You gave my brother a skin of stone, and I give you a skin of bark. Sounds like a fair trade, don't you think?" Jacob buttoned his coat over the bloody shirt. "Now I'm going to go and look for Will. And if I find that his skin is made of jade, I'll come back and set a fire to your roots."

Jacob couldn't tell where the voice was coming from. Maybe it was just in his head, but he heard it as clearly as if she were whispering the words into his ear. "Let me go, and I will give your brother back his skin."

"Your sister told me that you would make promises and that I shouldn't believe you."

"Bring him to me, and I will prove it!"

"Your sister also told me to do this." Jacob reached into the branches and plucked a handful of the silvery-green leaves.

The willow sighed as he wrapped them in his handkerchief.

"I'm supposed to take these leaves to your sister," Jacob said. "But I think I'll keep them to trade for my brother's skin."

The pond was like a silver mirror, and his hand that had touched the Fairy felt burnt.

"I will bring him to you," he said. "Tonight."

A shudder ran through the willow.

"No!" the leaves whispered. "Kami’en needs him! The Jade Goyl must remain by his side until the wedding is over."

"Why?"

"Promise me, or I won't help you."