the Goyl.’
Oh, it would have all been so easy had he just killed Louis and Lelou in Vena. Your aversion to killing is becoming a hindrance, Nerron.
‘Who plotted this?’ He tasted his own rage like blood on his tongue. ‘Lelou?’
The Bug blushed, flattered. ‘Oh no. This is entirely the plan of His Highness.’ He shot Louis a nervous smile. ‘He’s not very experienced in treasure hunting, but he was right to point out that we are searching for the crossbow of his ancestor. I merely suggested we don’t kill you and Reckless quite yet. After all . . .’
‘. . . we still have to squeeze you for everything you know.’ The dog man exposed his teeth, which were as yellow as those of his charges. ‘About the hidden palace . . . about the crossbow. And all that . . . The prince thinks I should be in charge of that.’ He gave Louis a devoted smile and managed a plump curtsy. ‘The Waterman is the expert,’ he added, ‘but the prince is convinced, and rightly so, that you can’t trust the scale-faces any more than the Stone-skins.’
‘Yes, yes, that’s fine. Why are you telling him all that?’ Louis dabbed a pinch of elven dust into his nose. The stash in his saddlebag seemed inexhaustible. ‘First we take the heart off the vixen. Lock the Goyl in the carriage with Reckless.’
It took all three of them to tie up the Waterman. They tied him to one of the wheels, just as they used to do with Reckless. The dog man dragged Nerron to the carriage.
‘The prince is right, Goyl!’ he whispered before slamming the door shut. ‘You should all be roasted. Those will be good times, when he is King.’
‘Get the horses!’ Nerron heard Louis say with a heavy tongue.
Reckless was lying on one of the benches, his face swollen from its encounter with the carriage.
‘That wasn’t quite the plan, was it?’ he asked.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
GIANTLING RAGE
There they came. Fox stepped back from the fence, which the farmers had erected to keep their livestock away from the cursed ruins. The wind blew from the direction of the dead streets, and it drove ice and hail into her face. Everything around her was spelling one word into the night: calamity.
The men riding towards the watchtower were the same ones Fox had seen behind the Witch’s stable, but as they rode closer, she noticed that the Goyl wasn’t among them. Nor was Jacob.
‘Calm!’ Valiant whispered to her. ‘It means nothing. Absolutely nothing.’
Yet Fox felt as though someone were forging iron rings around her heart.
He wasn’t with them.
They had killed him.
No, Fox!
They were four. All well armed. The Waterman was also missing, but they had brought the bloodhounds, and Fox was glad she wasn’t wearing fur. One of the men was very young, and another one was barely taller than Valiant. Fox recognised Louis of Lotharaine from the pictures of him standing by his father’s side. In the pictures he’d looked much taller. Fox could smell elven dust and toad spawn as he reined his horse just a few steps away from her.
‘You’re the vixen.’
It was half question, half stated fact. Louis’s voice was as unpleasant as his face. ‘A Dwarf? Is that all the reinforcements you could muster?’
The man with the dogs uttered a barking laugh.
Valiant gave Louis an indulgent smile. It was every Dwarf’s curse and blessing to be underestimated for his size. ‘Evenaugh Valiant. And with whom do I have the pleasure?’
Louis swayed in his saddle as he pushed back his jacket to reveal the gem-encrusted hilt of his sabre.
‘Louis Philippe Charles Roland, crown prince of Lotharaine.’
‘Impressive!’ Valiant replied. ‘But we Dwarfs, we’re all republicans. I hope you don’t take it personally. Anyway’ – he looked searchingly past the prince – ‘we had actually arranged to meet a Goyl.’
The bloodhounds were watching Fox. They were not as easily deceived by her body as humans were.
‘Where is Jacob?’ She’d promised the Dwarf to leave the talking to him, but she was tired of waiting.
The prince stared at her with that mixture of disgust and desire every shape-shifter was all too familiar with.
‘Where do you have the heart?’ he barked at her. ‘I bet you have it hidden under your clothes, like your fur.’
The hounds bared their fangs, and Louis gave the dog man a nod.
Valiant turned to the watchtower and gave a shrill whistle.
Two lumbering figures stepped out of the shadows behind the tower. The Giantlings had ice all over their