distract them while you climb over the railing.’
One of the guards was leaning just a few yards away between the lifeboats, looking in their direction. What did he see? Lovers in the moonlight? And what if that were true, Jacob? What if he allowed himself to forget what Fox had been to him all these years? Even the guard wanted to kiss her. It was written all over his face.
You’d break her heart, Jacob. Or Fox, his.
‘What are you waiting for?’ She put the backpack in his hand.
‘Don’t give him too much hope. He’s nearly two heads taller than you.’
Fox smiled. ‘I think you have the more dangerous task.’
She sauntered towards the guard in a straight line, just as the vixen approached her prey.
Jacob leant over the railing. The figurehead had the body of a Dragon but the head of a man. Dunbar had first noticed how much the gilded face resembled statues of the Witch Slayer during his research for a lecture on the history of the Regal Navy. Jacob still thought it was a rather far-fetched theory, but the figure supposedly came alive whenever the fleet was attacked. The head of a Warlock to protect Albion’s fleet. Some black magic was always useful, even in these modern times. Dunbar claimed that Feirefis’s great-great-grandson had begun the tradition of fitting the flagship’s figurehead with the miraculous head, not knowing that it was that of his wizarding ancestor.
Jacob looked around.
Robert Lewis Dunbar, I hope you’re not wrong about this!
He couldn’t see the guard any more. Where had Fox lured him? Forget about it, Jacob. She’s a grown-up. He took the Rapunzel-hair from the snuff tin where he kept it. The golden hair was one of the few items he hadn’t lost in the Goyl fortress – thanks to Valiant. Jacob rubbed it between his fingers, and the hair grew fibre on fibre until it was stronger than any hemp rope. Jacob tied one end to the railing. The other end he dropped down, and it immediately wrapped itself around the neck of the figurehead. He jumped over the railing and rappelled down the glistening rope until he could clamber on to the Dragon’s back.
Don’t look down, Jacob.
He could stand on any precipice without the slightest reaction from his stomach, but the sight of the water beneath nearly made him vomit all over Guismond’s golden head. The Dragon’s wings, which were pressed against its body, were also covered with golden scales, but its body and neck were made of scarlet-painted wood.
Jacob loosened the Rapunzel-rope from the bulky neck and tied it around his waist. Then he pulled a fishing net from his backpack and wrapped it around the head and neck so that the head, once he cut it off, wouldn’t just drop into the ocean. His fingers were damp from the spray, and the high waves made him slip twice, but the Rapunzel-rope saved him from falling into the water.
The head was attached to the Dragon’s neck with a broad metal band, but the knife Jacob pulled from his belt could even cut through steel. He’d stolen it from the kitchen of Valiant’s castle. There was nothing better than a Dwarf knife, and Valiant owed Jacob much more than a knife, anyway, for the scars he bore on his back.
On the horizon, the first light of morning was eating into the night like mould. Hurry, Jacob. Of course, he expected that Guismond had secured his three bequests with a spell that would allow only his children to touch them without harm. So Jacob pulled on the gloves that had protected him in the tomb before he slipped the knife through the net. It cut through the metal band like fresh bread, and as he touched the head, he felt nothing – the gloves worked. Good. Jacob was halfway through when he heard a sound from above. Fox was standing by the railing. He motioned her to wait up there; the figurehead’s mounting didn’t look strong enough to support them both. Suddenly, the wooden body beneath him bucked. Even though it was only connected by a few inches of metal, the golden head opened its mouth and let out a scream that resounded far across the water.
Jacob heard the engines even before the planes appeared out of the dawn light. A squadron of bi-planes was headed towards them across the black waves. The sailors were so dumbfounded that the planes managed to reach the ships before a single gun was aimed