‘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 out 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…