The Empress tried to flee, but her Dwarfs and her guards were already collapsing under the onslaught of the moths, and then they also found her skin.
Human skin. Fox was wearing her fur, but where was Clara?
Jacob leaped over the dead and the wounded, whose screams and groaning filled the cathedral. He reached the bottom of the altar steps. Fox was standing over Clara's slumped body, desperately snapping at the moths. Valiant was lying next to them.
The Fairy was still blazing. Jacob tightened his fist even harder around the leaves and stumbled past her. She turned toward him as if she could feel the pressure of his fingers on her skin.
"Call them back!" he screamed, dropping to his knees next to Clara and Valiant.
The Dwarf was still moving, but Clara was as pale as death. White, red, black. Jacob brushed the moths off Clara's skin and dropped the willow leaves to unbutton his white guardsman's tunic. There was enough blood on it, but where could he get something black? The moths were converging on him as he put his jacket over Clara. With a final effort he pulled a black cravat from a dead man's neck and wrapped it around her arm. Fluttering wings. Stings cutting into his flesh like splinters. They sowed a numbness that tasted of death. Jacob collapsed next to the Dwarf. He felt paws pushing into his chest.
"Fox!" He barely managed to utter her name. She swiped moths from his face, but they were too many.
"White. Red. Black," he muttered, but she of course didn't understand what he meant. The leaves... he felt around the floor for them, but his fingers were as heavy as lead.
"Enough!"
Just one word, but it came from the only person whom the Dark Fairy still heard in her rage. The King's voice made the moths whirl up. Even the venom in Jacob's veins seemed to dissolve, until only a deep weariness remained.
Valiant rolled over with a groan, but Clara wasn't moving. She didn't open her eyes until Jacob leaned over her. He quickly turned his head so she wouldn't see how relieved he was. However, Clara's eyes sought only his brother.
Will was back on his feet, standing behind the Fairy's glassy tendrils. They turned to water as soon as the King stepped toward them, spilling down the stairs and cleansing the blood from the altar.
The moths landed on the Goyl dead and the wounded, and many of them began to stir. The Dark Fairy embraced her lover, wiping the pale blood from his face.
Will dragged the Empress to her feet and knocked out one of her Dwarfs who tried to stand in his way. Three of the other Goyl were driving the survivors from the pews. Jacob looked around for the willow leaves, but one of the Goyl dragged him up and pushed him and Clara toward the altar steps. Fox hurried after them. Her fur was still the best protection. Valiant was upright again, too. And from behind a distant pew, a slender figure rose. White silk speckled with blood, and above it a dollface that, despite her fear, still looked like a mask.
The princess stepped unsteadily into the aisle. Her veil was torn. She gathered up her dress to climb over the body of the general who had led her into the church. Her long train was heavy with blood.
Her groom looked at her as if he was weighing whether to kill her himself or to leave that pleasure to the Fairy. The rage of the Goyl. In their King, it had turned to cold fire.
"Get me one of their priests," he ordered Will. "One of them must still be alive."
The Empress looked at him incredulously. She could barely stand, but one of her Dwarfs lurched to her side and propped her up.
"Yes?" Kami’en said, stepping toward her, his saber in his hand. "So you tried to have me killed. I don't see how that changes our arrangement."
He looked down at the princess, who was standing at the bottom of the altar.
"No," she answered for her mother, in a halting voice. "It changes nothing. But the price is still peace."
Her mother started to protest, but one glance from the King silenced her.
"Peace," he repeated. He looked at the dead Goyl the moths had not brought back to life. "I think I have forgotten what that means. You shall have your own life and that of your mother as your wedding gift."
The priest Will dragged out from the sacristy stumbled over the corpses. The Dark Fairy's face was whiter than the bride's dress as the princess climbed the steps to the altar. And Kami’en, King of the Goyl, wed Amalie, princess of Austry.
51
Bring Him To Me
When Amalie of Austry stepped out of the cathedral, her dress was covered in flowers. The Fairy had made white roses from the blood of the Goyl and red ones from that of the humans. She had turned the stains on the bridegroom's uniform into rubies and moonstones, and the waiting crowd cheered. Some of the onlookers may have wondered why so few of the wedding guests followed the happy couple, and some may even have noticed the fear on the faces of the remaining guests, but the noise on the streets had drowned out the shots from the cathedral, the dead were silent, and the King of the Goyl and his human bride climbed into the golden carriage that had long ago taken Amalie's great-grandmother to her own wedding.
An endless parade of coaches and carriages was waiting in front of the cathedral. The Fairy remained at the top of the steps, like a threat, while the surviving Goyl formed a cordon from which there could be no escape. Not one of the imperial soldiers managing the crowds noticed that the carriages were being filled with hostages and that one of them was their Empress.
She was shaking as Donnersmarck helped her into the carriage. He'd survived the carnage, together with two of her Dwarfs. One of them was Auberon, her favorite. His bearded face was swollen from the stings of the moths. Jacob knew only too well how the Dwarf felt. He was numb himself. Clara wasn't looking any better, and Valiant tripped over his own feet as they descended the steps of the cathedral. Jacob was carrying Fox in his arms so that the Goyl wouldn't chase her away. They were all hostages, human decoration, a camouflaged escort for the Fairy's lover, whose troops were standing by barely a day's march away.
What have you done, Jacob?