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A few yards away, a group of pine trees grew in front of the rocks. It was so dark under their branches that even as close as this, Jacob couldn't see beneath them.

Jacob leaned over to Will and reached for his arm.

"Follow me to those pines," he whispered to him. "Dismount when I do."

It was time to play some hide-and-seek and fancy-dress.

Will hesitated, but then he picked up his reins and rode after Jacob. The shade under the pines was as black as soot — darkness that, with luck, would conceal them even from Goyl eyes.

"Remember how we fought when we were kids?" Jacob whispered to Will before he dismounted.

"You always let me win."

"That's exactly what we'll do now."

Fox ran to Jacob's side.

"What are you doing?"

"No matter what happens," he whispered to her, "I want you to stay with Will. Promise me. If you don't, we'll all die."

Will climbed out of the saddle.

"I want you to fight back, Will, and it has to look real," Jacob whispered. "We need to end up under those trees."

Then, without warning, he punched his brother in the face.

Immediately the gold in Will's eyes flared up.

He hit back so hard that Jacob fell to his knees. Skin of stone, and a rage that he had never seen before on his brother's face.

Maybe not such a good plan after all, Jacob.

24

The Hunters

Hentzau had reached the ravine at daybreak. The Unicorns grazing in the misty valley beyond had left him with little doubt that Nesser had led them to the right place. However, as the sun sank ever lower, he began to ask himself whether the Jade Goyl had been shot by his brother after all. But then Nesser pointed silently toward the end of the gorge.

of gold. Lips of fire. He didn't look tired, even though he had barely slept in days.

The Fairy's dress rustled as she turned. Human women dressed like flowers, layers of petals around a mortal, rotting core. She had had the dress made in the likeness of one of the paintings that hung in the dead general's castle. Kami’en had gazed at it often, as if it showed a world he longed for. The fabric would have made ten dresses, but she loved the rustling of the silk and its cool smoothness on her skin.

"No news from Hentzau?"

As if she didn't know the answer. Why had her moths still not found the one she was looking for? She could see him so clearly — as if she only had to reach out to fell his jade skin at her fingertips.

"Hentzau will find him, if he exists." Kami’en stood behind her. He doubted her dreams but never his jasper shadow.

Hentzau. Someone else she would have loved to kill. But Kami’en would forgive his death even less than that of his future bride. He had killed his own brothers, as the Goyl often did, but Hentzau was closer to him than a brother. Maybe even closer than she was.

Their reflections in the train window melted into one. Her breath still quickened whenever he stood near her. Where does love come from?

"Forget the Jade Goyl. Forget your dreams," he whispered, undoing her hair. "I will give you new dreams. Just tell me what you want."

She'd never told Kami’en that she had also found him first in her dreams. He wouldn't have liked it. Neither Goyl nor men lived long enough to understand that yesterday was born of tomorrow, just as tomorrow was born of yesterday.

23

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