Fearless (Mirrorworld) - By Cornelia Funke Page 0,84

no idea how to apologise for all the fear and terror she’d never be able to forget. There was no consolation in that they’d both been Troisclerq’s prey, that they’d given Troisclerq a death he might have even been longing for after all the stolen lifetimes. Was it possible to escape death for too long? Could there be too much life? It was hard to believe that on a night like this.

‘You heard the Witch,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ll be here a few days. So sleep! It’s not the cosiest of places, but much better than the one we came from, don’t you think?’

Fox didn’t answer. Her eyes wandered to his chest, to where the moth was hiding beneath his shirt. She hadn’t forgotten about death. From his backpack, Jacob pulled the necklace he’d taken from Ramée’s granddaughter. Her face incredulous, Fox touched the black heart.

‘Two treasures in one go,’ Jacob whispered. ‘I’ll tell you the whole story. But now you have to rest.’

She was so pale. He felt as though he could see through her skin.

Outside, one of the devil-horses whinnied.

Fox sat up.

The horse was quiet again, but it wasn’t a good silence.

She was quicker to the stable door than he. His eyes couldn’t make out anything suspicious between the dark trees, but Fox reached for the saddlebag with her fur dress.

‘Someone’s there.’

‘Let me take a look.’

She just shook her head. Jacob watched the trees while she put on the fur dress. The horses were still restless. Maybe they just smelled the Witch.

No, Jacob.

It was a moonless night, and he barely noticed the vixen dart off. There was still light behind the Witch’s window. A dog was barking somewhere.

Why did you let her go, Jacob? She was too weak. He could still see the pitcher, filled to the rim with her fear. Again, a dog barking. His hand reached for his pistol. He was just about to go after her when the fur of the vixen brushed against his leg again.

‘They are over there, to the left, between the trees. The Bastard and five others.’ Fox pulled Jacob away from the stable door. He thought he could still feel the fur on her hands. ‘You can smell the Waterman from miles off. And they have two bloodhounds.’

Damn. How did the Goyl get there? Jacob seemed unable to shake him off, like a shadow. Jacob rubbed his bandaged arm. It was his left – the heart arm, as the Witches called it. Sadly, it was also his better shooting arm. Not to mention the blood he was missing, and he still had the fight with Troisclerq in his bones. The Bastard would take the heart, and it would be like taking it off a child.

‘Maybe the Witch can help us,’ Fox whispered.

‘Perhaps. But I can’t afford to give another two cups of blood. And have you forgotten about the Waterman?’ Witch magic was as powerless against Watermen as a lit fuse thrown into a pond.

‘I can try to lure them away.’

‘No.’

She knew him well enough to know that this ‘no’ was final.

Jacob looked towards the devil-horses. Even if he and Fox managed to get away, what about Donnersmarck?

Damn. Too little time in the wrong place.

He took the black heart from his pocket. Fox flinched as he put the necklace around her neck. Jacob had wrapped the stone in a piece of cloth so it wouldn’t touch her.

‘Take it off before you go to sleep, and make sure the stone never sits on top of your heart!’ he whispered. ‘The cloth will only protect your skin. I’ll try to get you at least an hour’s head start.’

‘No!’ She wanted to take the necklace off, but Jacob grabbed her hands.

‘Nothing will happen to me. I’ll surrender myself before things get too hot.’

‘And then what? That Goyl already tried once before to kill you!’

‘He won’t, as long as I am his only chance of getting the heart! You just can’t get caught. Meet up with Valiant. Let the Dwarf deal with the Bastard. There’s an empty watchtower by the Dead City. I’ll tell the Goyl that’s where you’ll be waiting for him.’

She leant her head against his shoulder.

‘It’ll be all right,’ he whispered.

‘When?’ she whispered back. ‘Let’s try together. Please! We’ll be on the horses before they can start shooting.’

‘And Donnersmarck?’ Jacob brushed a will-o’-the-wisp from her hair. An hourglass. He’d find one. But the moment was now lost.

‘Take the rear.’ He drew his pistol. ‘The wall’s so rotten, I’m sure you’ll find