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Or had turned a dream into truth.
12
His Own Kind
It was early afternoon by the time they finally left the forest. Dark clouds hung above fields and meadows, patches of green, yellow, and brown that stretched to the horizon. Elderberry bushes bore heavy clusters of black berries, and Elves, their wings wet with rain, fluttered among the wildflowers by the roadside. However, the farms they passed were all deserted, and on the fields cannons were rusting among the unharvested wheat.
leaned back against the well. It will be all right, Jacob. But the night seemed endless. He felt Fox lean her head against his shoulder, and finally he fell asleep, next to the girl who did not want the skin that his brother had to fight for. He slept fitfully and even his dreams turned into stone. Chanute, the paperboy on the square, his mother, his father... they all froze into statues standing among the trees next to the dead Tailor.
"Jacob! Wake up!"
Fox was wearing her fur again. The first light of dawn was seeping through the pine trees. Jacob's shoulder ached so much, he barely managed to get to his feet. All will be well, Jacob. Chanute knows this world like no one else. Remember how he exorcised the Witch's spell from you? You were already half-dead. And the Stilt bite? And his recipe against Waterman venom?
His heart beat faster with every step he took toward the gingerbread house.
The sweet smell inside nearly choked him. It was probably the reason that Will and Clara were still fast asleep. She had her arms wrapped around Will, whose face was so peaceful, as if he were sleeping in the bed of a prince, not a child-eater. But his left cheek was speckled with jade, as if it had spilled onto his skin, and the nails on his left hand were nearly as black as the claws that had sown the petrified flesh into his shoulder.
How loud a heart could beat. Until it took your breath away.
All will be well.
Jacob was still standing there, staring at the stone, when Will finally stirred.
Jacob's eyes told him everything. Will put his hand to his neck and traced the stone up to his cheek.
Think, Jacob. But his mind had drowned in the fear that was flooding his brother's face.
They let Clara sleep. Will followed Jacob outside like a sleepwalker caught in a nightmare.
Fox backed away from him. The look she gave Jacob said only one thing.
Lost.
And that was how Will stood there. Lost. He touched his disfigured face, and for the first time Jacob no longer saw there any of the trust his brother usually gave so freely. Instead, he believed he saw all the blame he put on himself. All the If only you'd been more careful, Jacob... If you only hadn't taken him so far east... If only...
Will stepped to the window behind which the oven stood, and he stared at the image the dark panes threw back at him.
Jacob, however, was looking at the soot-blackened cobwebs under the sugared roof. They reminded him of other webs, just as dark, spun to catch the night.
What an idiot he was. What was he doing at a Witch's house? This was the curse of a Fairy. A Fairy!
Fox looked at him with apprehension.
"No!" she barked.
Sometimes she knew what he was thinking even before he did.
"She will definitely be able to help him. After all, she is her sister."
"You can't go back to her! Ever."
Will turned around.
"Go back to whom?"
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."
