Reckless (Mirrorworld #1)

Reckless (Mirrorworld #1) Page 47

"Take him to the building by the gate, and wait for me there. But hurry, and watch out for Kami’en. He won't appreciate losing his jade shadow."

Jasper, onyx, moonstone. Jacob cursed his human skin as he crossed the courtyard, keeping his head down. Most of the surviving Goyl were probably not aware that they owed their escape to him. Fortunately, most of them were guarding the hostages or looking after the wounded, so Jacob managed to reach the carriages unchallenged.

The King was standing with his officers. The alabaster Goyl had not returned. The princess approached her husband and talked to him. Finally Kami’en led her away. Will's eyes stayed on his King, but he did not follow.

Now, Jacob.

Will's hand went for his saber as soon as Jacob appeared from between the carriages.

Do you want to play catch, Will?

His brother shoved a couple of Goyl out of his way, and he began to run. His wounds didn't seem to impede him. Not too fast, Jacob. Let him come closer, just as you used to do when you were kids. Back behind the carriages, past the shed where they'd locked up the hostages, and on to the building by the gate. Jacob kicked open the door. A dark hallway with boarded-up windows. The patches of light on the grimy floor looked like puddles of milk. The next room was full of beds for the cholera victims. Jacob squeezed himself behind the open door.

Will spun around when Jacob slammed the door shut behind him. For a moment his face showed the same surprise as when Jacob had hidden behind a tree in the park, but nothing in his eyes indicated that he recognized Jacob. The stranger with his brother's face. But he did catch the golden ball. Hands have their own memory. Will, catch! The ball swallowed him up like a frog swallowing a fly. Outside, the tone King was looking vainly for his jade shadow.

Jacob picked up the ball and sat on one of the beds. His reflection stared back at him from the gold, distorted, like his father's mirror. He wasn't sure what made him think of Clara; maybe it was the hospital smell that still lingered in the old walls, so different and yet so like that of the other world. Whatever it was, he caught himself imagining for a moment, just one short moment, how it would be if he simply forgot about the golden ball and put it into his chest in Chanute's tavern.

What's wrong with you, Jacob? Is it the Larks' Water still? Or is it that you're afraid that even if the Fairy keeps her promise, your brother will forever be that stranger whose face is disfigured by his hatred of you?

The Fairy appeared so suddenly in the doorway, as if he'd summoned her with his thoughts.

"Well, look at that!" she said, seeing the golden ball in his hands. "I knew the girl who once played with that ball. A long time before you and your brother were born. She caught not only her husband with it but also her older sister, and wouldn't let her out for ten years."

She walked toward Jacob, her dress wiping over the dirty floor.

He hesitated, but at last he gave her the ball.

"Such a pity," she said, lifting it to her lips. "Your brother looks so much better in jade." She breathed on the gleaming surface until the gold misted over. Then she handed the ball back to Jacob.

"What?" she said, noticing Jacob's doubtful look. "You're trusting the wrong Fairy."

She came so close to him that he could feel her breath on his face.

"My sister didn't tell you that any man who utters my name will die. Death will approach slowly, as befits the revenge of an immortal. You have maybe a year left, but it won't be long before you feel its presence. I'll show you."

She put her hand on his chest. Jacob felt a piercing pain in his heart. Blood seeped through his shirt, and when he tore it open he saw that the moth above his heart had come to life. Jacob grabbed its swollen body, but its claws were sunk so deep into his flesh that it felt as if he were tearing out his own heart.

"They say that to humans, love often feels like death," she said. "Is that true?"

She crushed the moth on Jacob's chest, until all that remained was the imprint on his skin.

"Release your brother as soon as the gold is clear again," the Fairy said. "There's a carriage waiting by the gate, for you and those who came with you. But remember what I told you. Take him as far away from me as you can."

52

Happily Ever After

The tower, the scorched walls, and the fresh wolf tracks — it was as if they'd only just left, but the wheels of the carriage crunched through freshly fallen snow as Jacob reined in the horses.

Fox jumped out and licked the cold white powder from her paws. Jacob climbed down from the driver's box. He took the golden ball from his pocket. The surface was almost clear, and it reflected the cloudy morning sky. During their journey, Jacob had looked at the ball so often that Fox had probably guessed what it contained. But he hadn't said anything to Clara yet.

It had taken them two days to get back to the ruin. At the last coach station, the stableboy told them that the Goyl had turned their King's wedding into a massacre and had kidnapped the Empress, but nobody knew any more.

Fox wallowed in the snow as if she wanted to wash the past days from her fur. Clara looked up at the tower. Her breath clung to her mouth in white clouds, and she was shivering in the dress Valiant had bought her for the wedding. The blue silk was torn and dirty, but her face still reminded Jacob of damp feathers, even though all he saw on it was her yearning for his brother.

"A ruin?" Valiant climbed out of the carriage and surveyed his surroundings with dismay. "What is this?" he hissed at Jacob. "Where's my tree?"

A Heinzel scampered out of the shadows and quickly picked up a few acorns out of the snow.

"Fox, show him the tree."

Valiant marched after the vixen so eagerly that he nearly fell over his own boots. Clara didn't even look at them.

It seemed such a long time since he'd first seen her standing between the blackened pillars. Jacob went over to her.

"You want me to go back, don't you?" She looked at him as only she could. "You can tell me. I'm never going to see Will again. It's okay. You tried everything."

Jacob took her hand and put the ball in it.

The gold gleamed as if it had been cast from the sun itself. "You're trusting the wrong Fairy."

"You have to polish it," he said. "Until you can see yourself in it as clearly as in a mirror."

Then he left her alone and entered the crumbling ruin. Will would want to see Clara's face first. And they lived happily ever after. Unless the Dark Fairy had deceived him, as her sister had.

Jacob pushed aside the ivy that covered the entrance to the tower. He looked up at the sooty walls and remembered how he had climbed down for the very first time on a rope he'd found in his father's study. Where else?

The skin over his heart was still sore, and he felt the imprint of the moth like a brand under his shirt. You paid the price, Jacob, but what did you get in exchange?

He heard Clara's suppressed cry.

And then another voice spoke her name.

Will's voice hadn't sounded so soft in a long time.

Jacob heard whispers. Laughter.

He leaned against the wall, which was black with soot and damp with the cold caught between its stones.

It was over. The Fairy had kept her promise. Jacob knew it even before he pushed through the ivy again, before he saw Will standing next to Clara. The stone was gone, and his brother's eyes were blue, only blue.