The Golden Yarn (Mirrorworld 3)

The stag wanted to jump in front of the bolt. He struggled desperately against the green shackles that protected him. They were all so keen to die for her. But why? The bolt would find her. Her sisters had been right. And still, she would’ve taken the same path again. Because it was her path.

The jade returned as soon as her moths attacked him. Her own magic shielded her assassin. All for Kami’en. Even that thought no longer hurt. The Golden Yarn was in her hand when the bolt struck.

So much darkness, so much light.

Was that what they called death?

The Golden Yarn slipped from her fingers as she surrendered to the element that had borne her. It was just a little trickle, but it willingly received her last spark of life.

Her sisters would perish, and it would be her fault. Again. That was the last of the Dark Fairy’s thoughts before they dissolved and became as clear as nobody would ever allow them to be. And the rest of her died.

Gone

Yes. This was the convent Kami’en had described to the draftsman. It was the river he’d seen, and the nun who opened the gate wore a black habit. Her face showed the usual disgust as she took in his men. Her hatred baseless. When the Bavarian officer, who’d been sent along as their watchdog, asked her about the infant, her hatred turned to fear. Idiot. Was he trying to give them time to hide his son? Probably.

If they hadn’t taken him away already.

Kami’en was no longer sure whether it had been wise to come himself. Two attacks on his train, farmers spitting at his sight, women crossing themselves, children staring at him as though they’d seen the Devil. Who was to say whether their fear of him and his armies brought more danger than protection to his son? Hentzau had been right: the Bavarians made no secret of their harking back to a time when all Goyl were simply killed on sight. Now he could only hope Hentzau hadn’t also been right about the trap. And that the child was still alive.

The nun spoke in a dialect Kami’en couldn’t understand. He ordered the Bavarian officer to translate. The man’s grasp of the Goyl language was quite good, but when he repeated to Kami’en what the nun had said, his soft human lips suddenly seemed to move without making a sound. All Kami’en could hear was his own heartbeat, loud, as though he was suddenly alone in a vast, empty hall.

She was gone.

The officer was still talking.

Kami’en turned his horse around.

His own men stared at him. The Bavarian officer wanted to stop him. One of his bodyguards reached for his reins. Kami’en shoved him aside, and he spurred his horse. He drove it beneath the trees behind the convent, ignoring the cries behind him. He’d always been a good horseman.

When he finally stopped, he no longer knew where he was.

Enemy territory. So what? For a Goyl, all territory was enemy territory.

She was gone.

And his heart was beating too loud and too fast.

Into nothingness.

The Executioner

The Dark One fell without a sound. Like a leaf. Nerron struggled to his feet. What had he expected? That she would die like a human? He looked speckled, like a bug, and his body ached as though those damn Mirrorlings had put him on a spit and roasted him. But the Bastard lived—though Sixteen had tried very hard to turn him into a hunk of precious metal.

Let that be a warning to your Elf masters! he thought as he scraped the silver off his face with his claws. They’d best remember not to mess with the Goyl when they return.

The stag was still trying to free himself from the Fairy’s vines. It had really seemed like she didn’t want to be saved. Hell, that stag was a monster. Nerron had never seen a bigger one, but the Pup walked past the snorting beast as though it weren’t even there. He only had eyes for the still body lying next to the carriage. A lost boy was all he now was. Oh, but no, Nerron. He now has a brand-new title: the Fairy Slayer.

The moths were hovering aimlessly above her body, like drones who’d just lost their queen. They didn’t attack the Pup, except for one who kept fluttering at his face. Will didn’t even swat at it. Nerron went to his side. The Dark One’s eyes were open. What happened when death claimed what was immortal?

The Pup was still holding the weapon that had ended her.

In his snail-skinned hand.

Nerron could’ve killed him. Why didn’t he? The Pup no longer had bodyguards.

Seventeen was completely frozen. His startled bark-face was a welcome sight. Some of the leaves growing out of his arms were silver and glass.

Sixteen was still stirring. Will turned to her as she whispered his name. The Pup looked almost as startled as her wooden brother. He dropped the crossbow like a broken toy and stumbled toward what had been a girl.