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Another moth landed on the still body. More and more of them fluttered out of the trees. They settled on him in such profusion that they looked like flowers sprouting from his shattered flesh.
Fox tried to drive them away, but there were too many. Finally she gave up and simply watched as they covered Jacob with their wings. It was as if the Red Fairy was claiming him even in death.
Clara knelt next to Fox and wrapped her arms around her.
"We have to bury him."
Fox freed herself from Clara's embrace and pressed her face against Jacob's chest.
Bury him.
I'll do it. The Dwarf had actually dared to venture closer. He picked up the rifle Jacob had dropped, and as if the metal were as soft as clay, he slapped the barrel flat with his bare hand, shaping it into a spade. "Bloody waste!" he muttered as he attacked the soil. "Two pounds of red moonstone! And now nobody will get it."
The Dwarf dug the grave effortlessly, as if he'd had a lot of practice. Fox just sat there, her arms wrapped around Clara, and looked at Jacob's still face. The moths were still covering him like a shroud when Valiant threw down his shovel and brushed the dirt off his hands.
"Right," he said. "Let's get him in there." He leaned over Jacob. "But first we should check his pockets. No point in letting perfectly good gold sovereigns rot in the ground."
Fox's fur returned in an instant. "Don't touch him!" she hissed, snapping at Valiant's eager fingers.
Bite him, Fox. As hard as you can. Maybe that will ease the pain.
The Dwarf tried to fend her off with the shovel-rifle, but she tore into his coat and jumped at his throat until Clara grabbed her by the fur and pulled her back.
"Fox, don't!" she whispered, pressing the quivering body against hers. "He's right. We'll need the money. And Jacob's weapons. The compass... everything he had with him."
"Why?"
"To find Will."
What was she talking about?
Behind them the Dwarf snorted in disbelief. "Will? There is no more Will."
But Clara bent over Jacob and put her hand in his coat pocket. "We'll give you all he had — if you help us find his brother," she said. "That's what he would've wanted."
She pulled the handkerchief from Jacob's pocket. Two gold sovereigns dropped onto his chest. The moths swirled up like leaves stirred by an autumn breeze.
"Strange how little resemblance there was between the two," Clara said, brushing the dark hair from Jacob's forehead. "Do you have sisters, Fox?"
"Three brothers."
Fox rubbed her head against Jacob's lifeless hand. A last moth rose from his chest. Suddenly she flinched. His body shuddered — his lips gasped for air, and his hands clawed into the grass.
Jacob!
Fox impulsively jumped on his chest, causing him to groan with pain.
No grave. No damp soil on his face! She bit his chin and his cheeks. Oh, she just wanted to eat him up with love.
"Fox. What are you doing?" He grabbed her and sat up.
Clara backed away from him as if from a ghost. The Dwarf dropped his shovel.
But Jacob sat there and looked at his bloody shirt.
"Whose blood is this?"
"Yours!" Fox nestled against his chest to feel his heartbeat. "The Goyl shot you."
