Swift

  Richard raised his eyebrows. ‘After wearing iron for over a week? It’ll be hours – maybe even days – before I can do magic again. I’m not flying anywhere tonight.’

  Ivy recoiled as though he had slapped her. ‘You…you can’t be serious. You said—’

  ‘I said I’d take you to your mother if you let me go. I never said I could do it right away.’ But there was no triumph in his tone, only resignation. ‘I’m not going to try and escape, if that’s why you’re still gripping that pickaxe. I can’t even get out of this tunnel, unless you lead me out yourself.’

  Ivy’s hands tightened on the thunder-axe. ‘I can’t do that,’ she said. She’d been prepared for everything from passionate gratitude to cold-blooded betrayal, but she’d never anticipated this. ‘If we were caught…’

  ‘Then go, and leave me here.’ He spoke wearily, as though he’d expected nothing better. ‘Maybe your Joan will think I freed myself, when she comes to execute me tomorrow.’

  Alarm stabbed into Ivy. ‘Execute you? She told you that?’

  ‘Oh yes. Quite matter-of-factly. I’m to be hanged in the Market Cavern, with someone called Hew knotting the rope, and my body left in the Engine House as a warning to my accomplice. Whoever that is.’

  Ivy wished she could believe he was lying, but his story was far too likely. Keeve’s family were still crying out for vengeance, and if Richard’s body was left on the surface to deter whatever creature had been skulking about the Engine House, it would satisfy the hunters as well.

  ‘But you never know,’ Richard went on. ‘Maybe before then I’ll be strong enough to fly out of here – though that’s going to be a bit difficult, with no light to see by.’ His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘Pity I never learned to take bat-shape.’

  He was right about that too, unfortunately. If she’d been worried about Cicely flying up the Great Shaft without a glow to light her way, how could she expect Richard to do any better? The only way to be sure of getting him safely to the surface was to take him out of the Delve herself.

  Yet to free a prisoner that the Joan had condemned to death, and lead him to the surface through tunnels that no one but a piskey had ever been allowed to see – it was unthinkable, unforgivable. If Ivy were caught, it would not only bring disgrace on her entire family, but she’d probably be executed as well.

  I can’t, her mind cried out, I can’t do this, there has to be another way. But it was too late for that. First she’d healed Richard, then she’d fed him, and now she’d freed him from his chains. And she’d promised to help him get out of the Delve.

  Ivy drew a deep breath, willing herself strong. Then she hefted Flint’s thunder-axe up onto her shoulder and said, ‘All right. Come with me.’

  seven

  If carrying the thunder-axe down the shaft had been hard for Ivy, getting it back up was even more of a challenge. Growing a couple of hand-spans taller made the pick a lighter burden, but it also made her heavier – not to mention putting more strain on the rope. She’d only climbed a little way before she had to shrink to her customary size, and by the time she reached the iron railing she was wheezing.

  ‘I’m up,’ she panted to Richard as she clambered over, making her glow as bright as she dared so that he’d have enough light for his own climb. ‘Tie the rope around your waist, and I’ll—’

  But Richard was already pulling himself up the shaft towards her, feet braced wide on the rock. His strength surprised Ivy – if he could manage such a climb even in his weakened state, how strong had he been before? But when he reached the railing he stopped, leaning back on the rope.

  ‘That’s iron,’ he said flatly. ‘I can’t touch it.’

  ‘You have to,’ she whispered, but he shook his head.

  ‘Touching iron’s like an electric shock to a faery – it doesn’t just take away our magic, it hurts. It can even knock us unconscious. If I grab it, I may not be able to hang on.’ He shifted his footing on the rock and reached a hand up towards her. ‘I’ll have to jump as high as I can, and let you pull me over.’

  This was ridiculous, thought Ivy. They’d never get out of the Delve at this rate. Still, there was nothing else but to try it, so she leaned as far over the railing as she could and gripped his hand in her own.

  ‘One,’ mouthed Richard, crouching against the rock. ‘Two. Three—’

  He sprang upward, while Ivy braced her feet against the railing and hauled with all her might. The iron groaned as Richard’s weight landed on it, then blazed white as it touched skin. He gasped and convulsed – but in the same moment Ivy dragged him over, and the two of them landed in a heap on the floor of the adjoining tunnel.

  ‘Ow,’ Richard breathed, rolling away from her and pressing one hand to his stomach. Dizzy with relief, Ivy sat up and crawled over to the railing to untie her rope. She coiled it up, slung it across her body and reached for the thunder-axe again.

  ‘Come on,’ she told him. ‘We’ve got a long way to go.’

  ‘This is incredible,’ murmured Richard. ‘Is that silver?’

  She’d told him to stay close and put his hand on her shoulder, so she could keep her glow dim. Not only because she feared they’d be seen if she shone more brightly, but because no outsider should ever see the treasures of the Delve. Unfortunately, the faery’s night-vision was a lot better than she’d thought. ‘Stop it,’ she hissed, quickening her pace. ‘Keep your eyes down.’

  He obeyed, or at least kept silent, until they turned the next corner. But then he made a disbelieving noise, and Ivy knew what he’d just seen – the thousands of tiny gemstones embedded into the tunnel walls. Only total darkness could have hidden them, and she didn’t dare extinguish her light or they’d never get anywhere at all. But hearing Richard’s intake of breath and slow, wondering exhale made Ivy feel even more like a traitor than before.

  She hugged the thunder-axe closer, arm muscles burning with the strain of carrying the heavy pick so long. She didn’t dare try shifting it to a more comfortable position – if she dropped it, the crash would be loud enough to wake the whole Delve. Richard might be willing to take it from her, but she hated to appear weak, and she didn’t trust him enough yet to hand him something he could use as a weapon. Besides, she was almost home now, so she’d be able to put it down soon enough…

  She’d only taken a few more steps when a loose stone spiked into her heel, throwing her off-balance. With a gasp Ivy staggered sideways, bumping into the tunnel wall. The thunder-axe’s head tipped away from her, and she felt the haft twist out of her grip –

  Richard leaped forward, his hands locking over hers and catching the pickaxe a mere hand-span from the floor. For a few uneven heartbeats the two of them stared into each other’s eyes, breathing hard. Then Ivy drew herself upright, gave him a shaky nod, and hefted the pick again.

  By the time they reached her family’s cavern, all Ivy’s nerves were jangling. Little shivers ran over her skin as she crept inside to put the rope away and prop the thunder-axe in place, and she felt horribly sure that at any moment Mica or Cicely would fling open their curtains and confront her. When her brother stirred and mumbled just as she was lowering the pick to the floor, she had to clamp her teeth shut on a scream. But then the familiar snore started up again, and she managed to quell her panic and carry on.

  ‘Done it,’ she whispered to Richard as she slipped out, easing the door closed behind her. Then she grabbed his arm and hurried up the corridor. She couldn’t bear to creep and skulk any more; it was too unnerving. Better to make a bold rush for the exit than waste any more time on secrecy.

  They’d just passed the Narrows and were starting up the Hunter’s Stair when Richard seized her wrist and jerked her to a stop. Shocked by his rudeness, Ivy was just about to order him to let go when she heard it. Voices.

  There was no time to discuss a plan. Leaping down the stair, Ivy pulled Richard into the only hiding place she could find – a shallow curve of the tunnel, barely wide enough for the two of them. Fl
attening him against the wall with one outstretched arm, she pressed herself next to him, extinguished her glow, and fervently willed them both invisible.

  ‘…doesn’t mean he won’t be back again,’ said Feldspar’s voice from above. ‘Next time he’ll bring others with him, and we’ll have a battle on our hands.’

  ‘You think so?’ That was Gem, boots clomping as he headed down the steps. ‘I can’t see it. We’ve always kept our heads down when their kind were about, and we haven’t lost a hunter in years. Excepting young Keeve, of course. But he always was a wild one, and I wouldn’t be surprised—’ He stopped. ‘What?’

  ‘Hush a minute.’ Feldspar sounded tense. ‘Did you hear something?’

  Ivy’s heart was pounding so hard, she felt sure it would smash right out of her chest. She closed her eyes, pushing all her concentration into holding the invisibility glamour steady. Any second now the two hunters would pass by, their combined glows banishing every shadow, and if she let the illusion falter even for a moment…

  ‘What’s to hear?’ asked Gem with a snort. ‘You think a spriggan could follow us right into the Delve? If he’s that crafty and we’re that blind, we may as well surrender and hand over our treasure right now.’

  Richard’s chest rose sharply against Ivy’s arm, and she could practically read his thoughts: Treasure? Her lips flattened. If he turned out to be a spriggan after all, she’d never forgive herself.

  Above them, Feldspar chuckled. ‘All right, I’ll quit trying to prank you. But I’m not joking about there being more of those creatures. Two sightings in a week – that can’t be a coincidence. And who’s to say that killing one won’t just make the rest of them angry?’

  ‘Ah, you’re a twitch-nosed rabbit. We’re safe enough in the Delve, so let ’em come, is what I say…’

  Still lost in friendly argument, the two hunters continued down the steps into the Narrows, passing so close to Ivy that she could feel their glows warming her skin. But they never broke stride, or looked around. And soon the sound of their footsteps faded away.

  Ivy relaxed, but her mind was still racing. So Gem and Feldspar had been out all night looking for spriggans. How close had she come to meeting them when she’d gone out earlier? Had they heard the scream that had startled her into flight?

  Richard gave a little cough, and she realised she was still pinning him against the wall. Embarrassed, she dropped her arm and let him go.

  ‘We’d better hurry,’ she whispered as she stepped out into the corridor, rekindling her light. ‘It should be safe now, but there isn’t much time.’

  When Ivy and Richard climbed out onto the surface the moon had vanished, and a light rain was falling. Ivy rubbed her bare arms, but Richard flung his wide as though to embrace the sky.

  ‘Finally,’ he exulted. ‘I thought I’d never breathe fresh air again.’

  This was the moment Ivy had dreaded. He was stronger and faster than she was, even in his weakened state; if he chose to betray her now, she’d be unable to stop him.

  ‘You taught me to fly,’ she said. ‘Now I’ve set you free, as we agreed. But there’s one more thing. Swear to me that you’ll tell no one what you saw in the Delve tonight. No one.’

  ‘A good mouth-filling oath?’ Richard turned, his smile fading to seriousness as his pewter-grey gaze met hers. ‘I swear it,’ he said. ‘By my blood and by my name. My true name.’

  Ivy’s apprehension eased a little. Maybe she could count on him after all. ‘But you still have to take me to my mother,’ she said. ‘I’ll come as soon as I get the chance, but—’

  ‘You’re not coming now?’

  ‘I can’t.’ It hurt to admit how badly she’d miscalculated, but she couldn’t deny it now. ‘If I don’t get home soon, my family will wake up and find me missing. And when they realise you’re gone as well…’

  ‘They’ll think we’ve eloped?’ said Richard with a quirk of the eyebrows, but when Ivy glared at him he relented. ‘My apologies. They’ll think I’ve taken you hostage, of course.’

  Ivy nodded. ‘That’s why I have to go now. But…’ She drew in her breath. ‘I risked my life for you tonight, and I hope you won’t make me regret it. Promise that when I call for you, tomorrow night or the next, you’ll be here.’

  A muscle jumped in Richard’s cheek. He wrapped his arms around himself, as though he’d only just remembered he was only half-dressed. ‘Tomorrow or the next, you say. And if you haven’t come by then?’

  ‘Then you’re free to go.’ She couldn’t expect him to wait forever, after all. ‘But if you leave a note telling me where my mother is, I’ll be able to look for her on my own. And then you’ll have kept your word to both of us.’

  Richard gave her a narrow look. ‘Not to the letter, which is how we faeries make our bargains. But perhaps Marigold will see it differently. As you wish.’ Without another word, he turned and walked away.

  ‘That’s gratitude,’ called Ivy after him, but the faery didn’t look back. Telling herself it was foolish to feel hurt – what more could she expect from someone who wasn’t even a piskey? – Ivy swept the bracken aside and ducked into the Delve.

  Ivy dreamed that she was flying, and at first she didn’t want to wake – until she remembered that she could fly, and broke into an involuntary smile. But her bones ached, and her eyelids felt so heavy she could barely force them open. Surely it couldn’t be morning yet?

  But there was no doubting her sense of time; it was as unfailing as her sense of direction. And if she didn’t get up and wake the others, they’d know something was wrong. Repressing a sigh, Ivy struggled out of bed and lit the day-lamps. She prodded Mica with the broom handle until he swore and slapped it away, then crossed to Cicely’s alcove, opened the curtains…

  And found the bed empty.

  ‘Cicely?’ Ivy turned, searching the cavern for her sister’s glow. She passed a hand over the pillow, then the bedclothes, but felt not a trace of warmth. ‘Mica, did you hear Cicely get up a while ago?’

  Mica poked his head out between the curtains, his black hair tousled from sleep. ‘What? No.’

  A fearful suspicion stirred in Ivy’s mind. She went to the door and opened it, looking both ways down the passage. ‘Cicely! Are you there?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Mica, muffled by the shirt he was pulling over his head. ‘Where would she go at this hour?’

  He had a point, but Ivy wasn’t about to acknowledge it. She grabbed her wrap off its hook and flung it around her. ‘I’m going to look for her,’ she said, and dashed out.

  An hour later she had visited all of Cicely’s favourite places, knocked several sleepy families awake, and walked a circuit of the neighbouring tunnels, calling all the while. Jenny joined her, as did Mica and Mattock, and between them they searched the Delve from Market Cavern to Earthenbore.

  But there was no sign of Ivy’s little sister anywhere. Cicely, like Keeve before her, had vanished.

  eight

  Ivy sat shivering by the hearth in the Joan’s stateroom, one of Cicely’s hair ribbons crumpled in her hand. She barely noticed Betony pacing the rug as she questioned Mica about when he’d last seen Cicely, or Gossan’s frown as he listened, or Flint standing in the doorway with a face as stony as his name. All Ivy knew was that her little sister was gone, and that it was her fault.

  After the first shock of Cicely’s disappearance, it hadn’t taken Ivy long to realise what must have happened. The uneasy feeling she’d had yesterday, both times she went to the surface…she ought to have trusted her instincts. Because, of course, it had been Cicely following her all along.

  Perhaps it had been Ivy’s sun-browned skin that roused Cicely’s suspicions, or perhaps it was hearing her slip back into the cavern in the middle of the night. Perhaps she’d simply been eager to find out what surprise Ivy was preparing. But for whatever reason, Cicely had made herself invisible and followed Ivy all the way to the surface, only to discover that her older sister had been sneaking o
ut of the Delve without her.

  Cicely probably hadn’t gone outside the first time – the afternoon light would have blinded her. Instead she’d retreated to her bed, to brood over what she’d seen. But when she heard Ivy getting up later that night, it was the perfect chance to follow her a second time, and find out what she was up to.

  It sickened Ivy to think that she’d led her little sister into danger. But more dreadful still was knowing that the scream she’d heard on the hillside – that thin, wailing cry that had startled her into flight – must have come from Cicely. If she’d gone to investigate straight away, she might have been in time to save her. But Ivy had been caught up in the joy of her new swift-form, and by the time she turned back her sister had already vanished…

  ‘WHAT?’ exploded Mica, and Ivy nearly dropped Cicely’s ribbon in the fire. ‘That’s impossible! I chained that spriggan up myself – there’s no way he could have escaped!’

  ‘And yet he did,’ said Betony crisply. ‘Perhaps the iron was not as pure as you believed, or perhaps he found some way to weaken it. But the prisoner has gone, and taken Cicely with him.’

  No, thought Ivy in dismay. He couldn’t have, he was with me. But how could she tell them that?

  ‘I’ll kill him,’ Mica’s voice was savage, his big hands clenched so tight they shook. ‘I’ll track him all the way across Kernow if I have to, but I swear I won’t rest until I break his skinny neck.’

  ‘There’s a search party heading to the surface,’ said Gossan, ‘and our most seasoned hunters and trackers are among them. They will do everything in their power to find Cicely.’

  ‘No doubt,’ Mica said flatly, ‘but they can only search for a few hours before they have to come back again. And that’s not good enough.’ He dropped to one knee. ‘Jack O’Lantern, Joan the Wad,’ he said formally to Gossan and Betony in turn, ‘I ask permission to track the spriggan myself, and stay out as long as it takes to find him and get my sister back.’