The Golden Yarn (Mirrorworld 3)

The look he gave Will was wary as well as curious.

Fox was not there. What now? Will had not only wanted to tell her he hadn’t heard from Jacob in days. He’d also hoped Fox would know where he could find the Dark Fairy. He was tempted to ask for Chanute, but if even half of what his brother had told him about the man was true, he’d be in an even worse mood than his cook was at this early hour of the morning.

“Can I leave a message for her?”

Wenzel downed his shot. “Sure.”

The only piece of paper Will could find in his pockets was a flyer for a play he and Clara had seen a few weeks earlier.

He sat down at one of the tables. What should he write? Despite everything they’d been through together, he’d always felt shy toward Fox. Wenzel was looking at him. Will concealed the ballpoint pen. Maybe he could find some clothes in Jacob’s room, something less conspicuous than what he was wearing now.

A girl carrying a pail stepped through a door by the bar. She was as scrawny as a bird and nine years old at the most. But it was obvious she was used to hard work. She stopped when she saw Will, but then she put down her pail of water next to one of the filthy tables. She went to the bar and let three Heinzel climb out of her apron pocket. The first time Will had heard about Heinzel was when Jacob had given him one of their tiny jackets for his sixth birthday. Jacob never forgot his little brother’s birthday, and Will’s fingers would tremble with anticipation when he opened his presents. The only one to whom he’d shown Jacob’s presents was Clara.

“I assume you’ve tried kissing her?”

The Heinzel started washing the dirty glasses. Will put his pen to paper again. Write. What? That Clara was sleeping herself to death? That a stranger had promised to make everything all right again? He folded the paper and put it back in his pocket.

The Heinzel, though hardly bigger than the glasses, were surprisingly noisy. With all their splashing and spluttering, even Wenzel only noticed the Goyl when he reached the bar. The Heinzel gave the stranger just a quick glance, but the girl stumbled against her pail, and Wenzel’s face froze with hatred.

“You’re closed, I know,” the Goyl forestalled him. “I just want some information.”

Will had forgotten how rough Goyl voices were. The golden eyes briefly met his. A jasper face, and a King with dull red skin... Lost images filled his head.

The Goyl was an onyx, the noblest skin to have, but the black was veined with green stone. The unwelcome stranger didn’t wear a uniform like the Goyl Will had seen in Schwanstein’s streets. His clothes were tailored from the speckled skin of saurians Will remembered seeing from the shore of an underground lake.

“I am obliged to serve your kind, but nobody says I have to speak to you.” Wenzel struck the counter with his crutch so hard the Heinzel scampered behind a couple of empty bottles.

The Goyl gave Wenzel a wolfish smile. He wasn’t as tall as most of them. “Have you forgotten who’s in charge in your little backwater town now? That kind of attitude could easily cost you another leg.”

The girl eyed the Goyl with a mixture of disgust and fascination, but Wenzel shot her a warning glance and she quickly resumed mopping up spilled water.

The Goyl looked up at the Ogre’s arm above the bar. “I am looking for a man who frequently stays here. Even though”—he eyed his surroundings with disgust—“I would’ve thought he could afford better lodgings. Jacob Reckless?”

Wenzel acted as if he’d forgotten about Will. He shooed the Heinzel back to work. “He hasn’t been here in months, and even if I knew where he was, why should I tell that to a stoneface?”

“Yes, why indeed?” The Goyl looked at his claws. “Even if you’re as stupid as you appear, I’m sure you can come up with a reason or two. Tell him the Bastard was here and that I shall find him. I always find w

hat I seek; nobody knows that better than Reckless.”

“I will tell Jacob just one thing,” Wenzel hissed back at him. “That a damned Goyl was asking for him and that he’d better look out for himself.”

Will got up. The Goyl gave him a blank look. Will remembered the revulsion he himself had once felt at the sight of human skin.

“What do you want with Jacob Reckless?” Will asked.

“I fail to see how that’s any of your business, snail face.” The Goyl reached into his pocket and put a moonstone on the counter. “He stole something from me. This could be yours if you tell me where he is. That one”—he nodded toward Wenzel—“hasn’t earned a reward.”

Will couldn’t take his eyes off the gem. Red moonstone. Kami’en’s bodyguards wore it on their collars.

“I’ve only heard of him,” Will said. “Isn’t he a famous treasure hunter? I didn’t know he’s also a thief.”

Will kept his head down as he spoke. He also remembered how easy it was for a Goyl to read a human face.

“I’ve changed my mind about the message,” Will said to Wenzel. “I have something for the Dark Fairy. Can you tell me where she is these days?”

Wenzel looked at the Goyl with triumph. “Nobody knows where she is. The Fairy left Kami’en. Soon we’ll see whether the stonefaces can win their wars without her magic.”

“The Dark Fairy,” the Goyl growled. Will felt the Goyl’s eyes like fingers on his skin. “Didn’t your mother warn you about what Fairies do to little lovesick fools like you? She’ll turn you into one of her moths before you can even lay your puppy eyes on her.” He dropped the moonstone back into his pocket before one of the Heinzel could snatch it.