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‘One bite to go.’

Just one.

Breathe, Fox.

She pulled out the two swindlesacks she’d taken off Louis. She also gave Jacob the leather pouch where she kept the heart. This time his smile wasn’t quite as weary.

‘You also look exhausted.’ Jacob stroked her face. ‘Just as well this will all be over soon, one way or another. Right?’

He tucked the sacks into his coat pocket and leant into the carriage.

‘Keep searching,’ Fox heard him say. ‘There is a door. No onyx on the other side, no Thumblings, but there are some princes. Only a few of them wear crowns, though.’

‘Cut me loose!’ the Goyl replied with a hoarse voice. ‘Let’s find out once and for all which of us is the best.’

Jacob stepped back.

‘Another time,’ he said. ‘This one I can’t afford to lose.’

‘You would have lost a long time ago if the vixen didn’t keep saving your skin!’ The Goyl sounded like he was choking on his rage.

‘That’s correct,’ Jacob replied. ‘But it’s also nothing new.’

Then he slammed the carriage door shut.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

HEAD. HAND. HEART.

The Giantling had already covered the body of his companion with stones. He’d also arranged the bodies of the other dead at his feet like offerings: the kitchen hand, the dog man and his two bloodhounds. The two who’d survived his rage lay bound and gagged by the wall of the watchtower: Louis and the Bug. Valiant was pacing up and down in front of them. He didn’t look happy at all.

‘Look at that!’ he yelled at Jacob. ‘What’ve you got me into this time? The Lotharainian crown prince! Luckily, he’s still alive, but that probably rules out Crookback as a buyer. Wasn’t it enough to make the Empress your enemy?’

en riding towards the watchtower were the same ones Fox had seen behind the Witch’s stable, but as they rode closer, she noticed that the Goyl wasn’t among them. Nor was Jacob.

‘Calm!’ Valiant whispered to her. ‘It means nothing. Absolutely nothing.’

Yet Fox felt as though someone were forging iron rings around her heart.

He wasn’t with them.

They had killed him.

No, Fox!

They were four. All well armed. The Waterman was also missing, but they had brought the bloodhounds, and Fox was glad she wasn’t wearing fur. One of the men was very young, and another one was barely taller than Valiant. Fox recognised Louis of Lotharaine from the pictures of him standing by his father’s side. In the pictures he’d looked much taller. Fox could smell elven dust and toad spawn as he reined his horse just a few steps away from her.

‘You’re the vixen.’

It was half question, half stated fact. Louis’s voice was as unpleasant as his face. ‘A Dwarf? Is that all the reinforcements you could muster?’

The man with the dogs uttered a barking laugh.

Valiant gave Louis an indulgent smile. It was every Dwarf’s curse and blessing to be underestimated for his size. ‘Evenaugh Valiant. And with whom do I have the pleasure?’

Louis swayed in his saddle as he pushed back his jacket to reveal the gem-encrusted hilt of his sabre.

‘Louis Philippe Charles Roland, crown prince of Lotharaine.’

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