Fearless (Mirrorworld) - By Cornelia Funke Page 0,47

as Jacob put his hand into the sack and touched the golden hair, all he felt as was a slight tingling. Swindlesacks could dampen black magic, though Jacob had never seen such a strong effect. It didn’t matter . . . he had the head. He could only hope that the Goyl had been less successful in the meantime. Jacob tied up the sack and looked at the sky, where a few hungry gulls circled among the clouds. In his mind’s eye, he could still see the red aeroplanes diving at the burning ships.

‘Why did the Mal de Mer help us?’

Fox was wiping the sand from her bare arms. She’d pulled her dress off in the water, and now she was just wearing the one of fur. She wore it beneath her clothes whenever things might get dangerous, but this time it wasn’t the vixen who had saved them, but her human self.

‘They usually only help women,’ she said. ‘When I was a child they saved my mother’s sister. Normally, they take the men with them, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to protect you from them, but without their help, you would have drowned.’ Fox smiled. ‘Luckily, they realised I wasn’t going to let them have you without a fight.’

Yes, luckily. She was so fearless, it sometimes scared him. Jacob sat up. He could only hope the hand and the heart would be easier to find. Not that he really expected they would be. He looked around. Steep sandy cliffs and a pebbly beach. A lighthouse in the distance.

‘Do you know where we are?’

Fox nodded. ‘I grew up not far from here. I asked the Mal de Mer to take us here. We’re in Lotharaine, just a few miles from the Flandrian border.’ She got to her feet. ‘We’d better see that we move on, though. The fishermen here are not very friendly towards strangers. You still have the gold handkerchief? We’ll need money for horses and new clothes.’

Jacob reached into his pocket. The handkerchief was soaking wet, but Earlking’s card dropped from his pocket as dry and untouched as though it had just snuck into his hand. Fox gave the card a nervous look, but it was blank except for Earlking’s name. The card was pearly white, as though the sea had washed away the ink. Jacob shooed away a little spider that had crawled from his pocket, then he tucked the card away again. He still wanted to throw it away, but ever since he’d seen Will’s name on it, the card felt like a connection to his brother – even though Jacob knew the notion was irrational.

The handkerchief usually worked even when it was wet, but Jacob had to rub it for what seemed an eternity before it finally released one paper-thin coin. Yes, he really needed a new one, but these handkerchiefs weren’t easy to find.

Jacob poured out the water from his boots. ‘How many times has it been now?’ He got to his feet.

‘How many times has what been?’ Fox could also barely stand. They were both shivering in their wet clothes.

‘That you saved my skin.’

Fox smiled as she brushed the sand off his back. ‘I think we’re nearly even.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

A BOOTPRINT

Coast . . . his hand . . . almost crushed. The spider danced haltingly, as though she’d swallowed as much water as her sister.

Albion had lost its fleet, and Nerron had almost lost his eight-legged spy. Luckily, twin spiders were made of hardier stuff than ships of wood or iron. And Reckless had also done quite well, if the spider’s report was true. Fire from the sky . . . water . . . smoke . . . death. Nerron had some trouble figuring out exactly what had happened, but in the end all he needed to know were two things: the Goyl attack had made the crossbow even more attractive to all their enemies, and Reckless had made it back to the mainland – with the head.

Oh, this race was fun. Even if the princeling had the hand for now. And speak of the devil . . . the knocks on Nerron’s door sounded like someone who wasn’t used to standing in front of closed doors. Nerron nudged the spider back into the medallion and opened the door.

‘Look at this!’ Louis shoved a discoloured shirtsleeve into Nerron’s face. ‘They can’t even wash clothes in this dump! And what do you think my father will say when I telegraph him