"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.
"Yes. Awful." Valiant gave her a theatrical smile of sympathy. "Once you've drunk from it, you happily jump on even the ugliest girl. Doesn't really work on Dwarfs. Pity it was he, not I," he added with a sardonic glance at Jacob.
"How long will it last?" Clara's voice was barely audible.
"Some say it wears off after one attack. But there are those who believe it lasts for months. The Witches" — Valiant gave Jacob a salacious smile — "believe it only brings out what's already in your heart."
"You seem to know a lot about Larks' Water. Do you bottle the stuff and sell it?" Jacob barked at the Dwarf.
Valiant shrugged regretfully. "It doesn't keep. And the effect is too unpredictable. Shame. Can you imagine what a fantastic business that would be?"
Jacob felt Clara's eyes on him, but she turned her head away when he looked at her. He still felt her skin under his fingers.
Stop it, Jacob.
"Did you find the entrance?" he asked Fox.
"Yes." She turned her back on him. "It reeks of death."
"Nonsense." Valiant waved his hand dismissively. "It's a natural tunnel that leads to one of their underground roads. Most of them are well guarded these days, but this one's fairly safe."
"Fairly safe?" Jacob could feel the scars on his back. "And how do you know about it?"
Valiant rolled his eyes, despairing of such distrust. "Their King has banned the trade in a number of very popular semiprecious stones. Fortunately, some of his subjects are still as interested as I in a healthy trade."
"I'm telling you, it smells of death." Fox's voice sounded even more hoarse than usual.
"You're welcome to try the main entrance!" Valiant sneered. "Maybe Jacob Reckless can become the first human to saunter into the King's fortress without ending up cast in amber."
Clara his her hands behind her back as if she could make them forget whom they'd touched.
Jacob avoided looking at her. He reloaded his pistol and fetched a few things from his saddlebags: the snuffbox, the green glass vial, the looking glass, and Chanute's knife. Then he filled his pockets with bullets.
Fox was sitting under the bushes. As Jacob approached her, she cowered, as she'd done when he first found her caught in the trap.
"Keep a lookout for Goyl patrols," he said. "Better hide the horses between the rocks. And if I'm not back by tomorrow evening, you take her back to the tower."
Her. He didn't even dare say her name.
"I don't want to stay with her."
"Please, Fox."
"You won't come back. Not this time."
She bared her fangs, but she didn't bite. Her bites had always carried love.
"Reckless." The Dwarf poked him impatiently in the back with the butt of his rifle. "I thought you were in a hurry."
Valiant had refashioned the rifle into a rather bizarre weapon. There were rumors that in Dwarf hands, metal could even grow roots.
Jacob got up.
Clara was till standing by the stream. She turned away as he approached, but Jacob pulled her with him. Away from the Dwarf. Away from Fox and her anger.
"Look at me."