Reckless (Mirrorworld 1)

"Dammit, Fox, it was dark!" His heart was still beating wildly.

"Larks' Water?" Clara didn't look at him. Her hands were shaking as she pushed the hair from her face. She did not look at him.

;I had no orders to bring her here."

The girl. What had she looked like? Will no longer knew. The blood had washed away her face.

"Bring her to me. Your King's life depends on it."

Will felt the fingers on his skin again. So soft and cool.

"A shield of jade. Made from the flesh of his enemies." Her voice stroked his face. "My dreams never lie."

34

Lark's Water

For a while, Valiant led them quite resolutely through the night. However, as the slopes around them became more rugged and the road they'd followed from the river petered out into scrub and rubble, he brought his donkey to a halt and looked around, obviously perplexed.

"What?" Jacob rode to his side. "Don't tell me you're already lost!"

"The last time I was here was in broad daylight!" the Dwarf retorted testily. "How am I supposed to find a hidden entrance when it's darker here than up a Giant's backside? It's got to be right here somewhere."

Jacob dismounted and handed the Dwarf his flashlight. "Take this!" he said. "Find the entrance. And sometime tonight would be good."

The Dwarf swept the darkness with the beam of the light. "What's this?" he asked incredulously. "Fairy magic?"

"Something like that," replied Jacob.

Valiant shone the flashlight down the shrubby slope. "I'd bet my hat its' down there somewhere." Fox eyed the Dwarf suspiciously as he stomped off down the hill.

"Better go with him," Jacob said. "He might get lost."

She wasn't too keen on the idea, but she quickly scampered after Valiant.

Clara dismounted and tied her horse to a nearby tree. The golden threads in her skirt shimmered even more brightly in the moonlight. Jacob plucked a few leaves from an oak tree and handed them to her.

"Rub these between your hands and then brush them over the embroidery."

Clara obeyed, and the threads dissolved under her fingers as if she'd wiped the gold off the fabric.

"Elven thread," Jacob said. "Very pretty, but any Goyl would spot you miles off."

Clara ran her fingers through her conspicuously fair hair as if trying to dull its color, like the dress.

"You're planning on going into the fortress alone, aren't you?"

"Yes. I am."

"If you'd been alone on the river, you'd be dead now. Let me come with you. Please."

But Jacob shook his head. "It's too dangerous. And Will would be lost if something happened to you. He'll soon need you a lot more than he'll need me."

"Why?" It was so cold her breath hung in the air in white wisps.

"You'll have to wake him."

"Wake him?"