"Yes, I was going to," he said, "but I saw Will. You were right. It's over."
Believe me, Fox. Please.
Another knock. This time it was Donnersmarck's men.
"Jacob Reckless?" The two soldiers standing in the doorway were barely older than Will.
Jacob pulled Fox with him out into the corridor. "I'm getting drunk with Donnersmarck. If you want to go with Clara to the wedding tomorrow, fine, but I am taking the first train back to Schwanstein."
Her eyes went from him to the two soldiers. The Fairy was probably already in the palace gardens.
She didn't believe him; Jacob saw it in her face. How could she? Nobody knew him better, not even he himself. She looked so vulnerable in her human clothes, but she would try to come with him, whatever he said.
Fox didn't say a word as they followed the soldiers to the elevator. She was still upset about the Larks' Water. And now she was about to get even angrier.
"You don't look at all silly in that coat," he said as they waited for the elevator. "You look beautiful. But I still wish you hadn't come."
"She cannot follow me," he said to the soldiers. "I need one of you to stay with her to make sure of that."
Fox tried to shift her shape, but Jacob quickly grabbed her arm. Skin on skin kept the fur at bay. She tried desperately to wriggle free, but Jacob didn't let go. He pressed his room key into the hand of one of the soldiers. Despite his boyish face, he was as broad as a wardrobe. He should be able to keep an eye on her.
;The secret chamber of a Bluebeard. That's where your talents are more useful than my uniform."
Donnersmarck walked haltingly toward Jacob.
"What's your business with the Dark Fairy?"
They hadn't seen each other for nearly a year, but escaping the clutches of a Bluebeard or searching for the hair of a Devil forges a bond not easily broken. Donnersmarck and Jacob had done that and more together. They'd never found the Devil's hair, but Donnersmarck had kept down the Brown Wolf that had guarded the glass slipper, and Jacob had saved him from being clubbed to death by a cudgel-in-the-sack.
"What happened to your leg?"
Donnersmarck stood in front of him.
"What do you think? There was a war on."
From outside the window came the din of carriages, whinnying horses, and cursing coachmen. Not so different from the other world. But next to Jacob's bed, fluttering above a small bouquet of flowers, were two elves, barely larger than bumblebees. Many hotels put them in the rooms because their dust helped the guests sleep.
"I am here to ask you a question, and you can probably guess on whose behalf I am asking."
Donnersmarck brushed a fly off his white tunic.
"If you were to get your five minutes, would the King of the Goyl ever see his lover again?"
It took Jacob a few minutes to absorb what he had heard.
"No," he answered. "Never."
Donnersmarck scrutinized him as if he were trying to read from his face what his friend was planning. Finally he pointed at Jacob's neck.
"You're no longer wearing that medallion. Have you made peace with her red sister?"
"I have. And it was she who told me how to bind the dark one."
Donnersmarck adjusted his saber. He had been quite a swordsman, though his leg injury had probably changed that.
"You make peace with one sister only to declare war on the other. It's always like that with peace, isn't it? Always to someone's detriment, already sowing the seed for the next war."
He hobbled to the bed.