Fearless (Mirrorworld 2)

Yes, the vixen had spotted them. However, the stable she’d disappeared into had only one door, and Louis would hit anything that came out of there. He yawned as often as he breathed, but his eyes were halfway clear again, and he was a decent shot.

‘Shall I let them go?’ The dog man could barely hold his panting charges.

‘No. Not yet.’ The thought of them tearing the vixen to pieces made him nauseous. It wouldn’t take much and soon he’d be throwing up at every turn, like Lelou.

Speaking of the Devil . . .

‘Are you sure he’s in there?’ The Bug stared at the stable as though he were trying to burn a hole into the brittle walls. He was very proud of the pistol he’d started to carry in his belt.

‘Yes. He’s standing right behind the door.’

Reckless thought the darkness hid him, but he’d forgotten he was dealing with a Goyl.

‘I’d best hit him straight in the head.’ Louis trained his rifle. ‘Or do we need him alive?’ His clan’s passion for the hunt. The excitement even made him forget to yawn. They still believed the story about the Albian spy.

‘No. Just shoot him dead,’ Nerron replied. He didn’t want Louis to think he was softer than him. And, anyway, Reckless wouldn’t be so stupid as to run out in front of his rifle. Nerron was sure he had the heart. Once more, Reckless had been faster. Two to one for him, Nerron.

Lelou nervously licked his lips. The pistol on his belt had not made a warrior out of him. Eaumbre was with Milkbeard by the Witch’s house. After what had happened in Vena, Louis had become even harsher towards the Waterman, but Eaumbre bore the insults with a stoic expression, and he kept acting as if he’d never given up the bodyguarding business.

At Nerron’s sign, Eaumbre kicked in the Witch’s door. Yes, he was useful, though one could never be too sure which side he was on. Probably his own. The child-eater fluttered past him and landed on her roof with a loud croak. The magpie was the Dark Witches’ bird of choice; the White Witches preferred swallows. Reckless had probably been watching, but there was no movement behind the stable door.

‘One thing’s for sure,’ Louis muttered. ‘When we find that crossbow, I get the first shot.’

‘Yes? And who would that be aimed at?’

Louis gave Nerron an icy look. ‘A Goyl, of course. And with the second shot, I’ll wipe out the Albian army.’

Eaumbre stood in front of Nerron. ‘Just one wounded man. He’s sleeping some kind of Witch sleep. Shall I bring him here to flush out the other one?’

‘No. I’ll get him out anyway.’ Nerron drew his revolver and checked the ammunition. Nothing wrong with having a bit of fun.

Eaumbre stood by his side. The well had obviously not dampened his lust for treasure hunting.

‘I’m coming as well.’ Louis suppressed a yawn.

To hell with Lelou and his toad spawn! Luckily, even the Bug understood that a dead prince meant a dead Arsene Lelou. ‘Best to let the Goyl handle this, my prince!’ he purred. ‘Who’s going to shoot the spy if he gets away from Nerron and the Waterman?’

Louis yawned once more. ‘Fine.’ He pointed his rifle at the stable door again. ‘What are you waiting for, Goyl?’

Nerron badly wanted to give him some of the lizard venom the onyx used to turn human skin into translucent slime. The crossbow, Nerron. It’ll be worth it all! He could already feel its wooden shaft in his hands. It would give all the treasure hunters sleepless nights. His ugly face would be on the front page of every newspaper, and princes and Kings would beg him for his services. Only the onyx would wish him dead, once Kami’en put the crowns of Lotharaine and Albion on his head. They would curse the day they’d sent a five-year-old bastard home instead of to his death.

Nerron left the dog man and Milkbeard with Louis. They were both loud and stupid, not worthy of this enemy. But he did give Milkbeard orders to set the devil-horses free. It would be far too humiliating should Reckless manage to escape on them.

Nerron stayed under the trees until he could no longer be seen from the stable door. Reckless didn’t have eyes that could see in the dark, and his skin wasn’t as black as the night, but the vixen was with him, and her senses were as sharp as a Goyl’s.

A few quick steps across the yard. The back against the stable wall. Reckless was no longer standing behind the door. Nerron could see that much.

Cat and mouse.

He squeezed through the door.

A cart. Bails of hay. Brushwood, the kind Witches used for their brooms. Especially the vixen could be hiding anywhere. Would Reckless shoot him without warning? Maybe. Though Reckless was more into rules than Nerron was. According to what people said about him, he had old-fashioned ideas about honour and decency, though he probably would’ve never admitted it.

Where were they?

Nerron briefly worried they might have escaped through some kind of spell – but here, in the Dark Witch’s territory, no magic worked besides her own. Hopefully, Lelou made sure Louis didn’t fall asleep.

The Waterman was still standing in the doorway. What? Was he suddenly afraid of the dark? Go search, you idiot!