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Jacob didn't answer. He reached for the medallion beneath his shirt. His fingers still remembered picking the petal that he kept inside it. Just as his heart remembered the one from whom the leaf protected him.

"Go and wake Clara," he said to Will. "We're leaving. All will be well."

It was along the way — four days, maybe more — and they had to be faster than the stone.

Fox was still looking at him.

No, Jacob! No! her eyes pleaded with him.

Of course she remembered it all as well as he did, if not better.

Fear, rage, lost time. "Must have been terrible injuries.

But this was the only way, if he wanted to keep his brother.

11

Hentzau

The Man-Goyl whom Hentzau found in a deserted coach station was growing a skin of malachite. Half of his face was already grained with dark green. Hentzau had let him go, like all the others they had found, with the advice to seek refuge in the nearest Goyl camp — before his own kind could murder him. But there was no gold yet in his eyes, only the memory that his skin had not always been made of malachite. He ran away as if there were still someplace he could run to. Hentzau shuddered at the thought that the Fairy might one day sow human flesh into his jasper skin.

Malachite, bloodstone, jasper. Hentzau and his soldiers had even found the color of the King, but of course no trace of the stone they were looking for.

Jade.

Old women wore it as talismans around their necks, and they secretly knelt before idols carved from the holy stone. Mothers sewed it into their children's clothes so the stone would make them fearless and protect them. But there had never been a Goyl whose skin was made of jade.

How long would the Dark Fairy have him search? How long would he have to look a fool in front of his soldiers, the King, and himself? What if she had invented the dream only to separate him from Kami’en? And off he'd run, ever loyal and obedient, like a dog.

Hentzau looked down the deserted road, which vanished between the trees. His soldiers were growing nervous. The Goyl avoided the HungryForest as much as the humans did. The Fairy knew that very well. This was a game. Yes, that's what it was. Nothing but a game. And he was tired of being her dog.

The moth settled on Hentzau's chest just as he was about to give the order to mount up. It clawed itself to his gray uniform, right above where his heart was beating, and Hentzau saw the Man-Goyl just as clearly as the Fairy had in her dreams.

The jade ran through his human skin like a promise.

It could not be.

And then the deep brought forth a King, and when there came a time of great peril for him, there also came the Jade Goyl, born from glass and silver, and he made the King invincible, even to death.

Old wive's tales. As a child, Hentzau had loved nothing more than listening to them, because they gave the world meaning and a happy ending. A world that was clearly divided into above and below and that was ruled by soft-fleshed gods. But since then he had sliced their soft flesh and had learned that they weren't gods, just as he had learned that the world made no sense and there were no happy endings.

But there he was. Hentzau saw him clearly, as clearly as if he could have reached out and touched the pale green stone that had already spilled onto the Man-Goyl's cheek.

The Jade Goyl. Born from the curse of the Fairy.

Had this been her plan all along? Had she sown all that petrified flesh only to reap him?

What do you care, Hentzau? Find him!

The moth spread its wings, and he saw the fields he had fought on just a few months earlier. Fields that bordered the eastern boundary of the HungryForest. He was searching on the wrong side.

Hentzau suppressed a curse and swatted the moth dead.

His soldiers looked at him in surprise when he gave the order to ride east again, but they were relieved he didn't lead them deeper into the forest. Hentzau wiped the crushed wings from his uniform as he swung himself into the saddle. None of them had seen the moth, and they would all confirm that he had found the Jade Goyl without the Fairy's help — just as he kept telling everyone that it was Kami’en who was winning the war, and not the spell of his immortal beloved.

Jade.

She had dreamed the truth.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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