Reckless (Mirrorworld 1)

Clara was standing between the overgrown plots.

"Monkshood, May lilies, hemlock." She looked at him, puzzled. "These are all poisonous plants."

She had obviously learned a few useful things as a premed student. Will had already told Jacob a dozen times how he met her at the hospital, in the ward where their mother had been treated. When you were not there, Jacob.

He got to his feet. Out in the forest, the sound of snipping could be heard again.

"Sometimes it takes a poison to heal," he said. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you that. Though I doubt you’ve ever learned about these berries."

He filled her hands with the shiny black fruit.

"Will must eat at least a dozen of them. They should have done their work by the time the sun rises. Persuade him to lie down in the house; he hasn't slept in days."

Goyl didn't need much sleep. One of the many advantages they had over humans.

Clara looked at the berries in her hand. She had a thousand questions on her tongue, but she didn't ask them. What had Will told her about him? "Yes, I do have a brother. But he's been a stranger to me for a long time now."

She turned around now and listened to the forest. This time she'd heard the snipping as well.

"What is that?" she asked.

"They call him the Tailor. He doesn't dare to cross the Witch's fence, but we cannot leave as long as he's there. I'll try to drive him off." From his pocket he pulled the key he had taken from the chest in Chanute's tavern. "The fence won't let you leave. But this key opens every door. I'll throw it over the gate once I'm out, just in case I don't come back. Fox will lead you back to the tower. But don't unlock the gate before it gets light."

Will was still standing by the well. He stumbled with fatigue as he walked toward Clara.

"Don't let him sleep in the room with the oven," Jacob muttered into Clara's ear. "The air there gives bleak dreams. And make sure he doesn't try to follow me."

Will ate the berries without hesitation. The magic that would heal everything. Even as a child he had believed in such things much more readily than Jacob. It was obvious how tired he was, and he didn’t protest when Clara led him toward the gingerbread house. The sun was setting behind the trees, and the red moon hung above the treetops like a bloody fingerprint. When the sun returned, the stone in his brother's skin would be nothing but a bad dream. If the berries worked.

If.

Jacob went to the fence and stared out into the forest.

Snip-snap.

Their pursuer was still there.

Fox's eyes followed Jacob anxiously as he walked toward the mare and pulled Chanute's knife from the saddlebag. Bullets were useless against the one who was waiting for him outside. It was said they even made the Tailor stronger.

A thousand shadows filled the forest, and Jacob believed he could see a dark figure standing among the trees. He'll at least help pass the time until sunrise, Jacob. He pushed the knife into his belt and took the flashlight from his knapsack. Fox ran after him as he approached the fence.

"You can't go out there. It's getting dark."

"And?"

"Maybe he'll be gone by morning!"

"Why should he?"

The gate sprang open as soon as Jacob pushed the key into the rusty lock.

So many desperate children must have rattled this gate in vain.

"Stay here, Fox," he said.

But as he closed the gate behind him, she quietly slipped out by his side.

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