Absorbed in her search, she scarcely noticed the tiny thread of gold creeping along the horizon. Not until the sky lightened from black to deep blue and the air began to fill with squawking gulls did Ivy realise that it was dawn — and that she should have been home ages ago. Cursing herself for being so careless, she wheeled south-east and flashed towards the Delve. Mica would be returning any minute, and if she didn’t make it back to the cavern before he did…
Then she caught sight of her brother standing at the top of the ridge, with Mattock and Gem at his side. From the way he was waving his arms he must be angry, or at least passionate about something, but that was of no matter. All Ivy cared about was getting down the Great Shaft straightaway
Only she couldn’t, because more birds were zooming towards her from every direction, warbling and squawking in a cacophony of avian language. A pair of swifts darted around her, their black eyes staring cold and bright into her own — and then the whole flock dived beneath her, a whirlwind of beaks and claws and feathers, heading straight for the hillside where Mica and his companions stood.
Bewildered, Ivy hung back and watched as the mixed multitude of birds spiralled around the hunters, still uttering their wordless cries. What were they doing? Had Mica sent them to look for the spriggan? Were they reporting to him somehow? She was still puzzling over it when Mica waved his hand and the flock scattered, flapping off as abruptly as they had come.
Except for the swifts. They hovered before him, uttering staccato shrieks of alarm, while Mica stood still as though listening. Then he made a sharp gesture, and the swifts shot away like twin arrows — straight at Ivy.
For an instant her mind went blank with disbelief. Then she remembered what Richard had said: Swifts are communal birds. If you don’t behave like a proper swift the other ones will sense it, and instead of welcoming you, they’ll attack…
Panic erupted in Ivy’s breast. She whirled and fled, wings flapping frantically as she shot towards the Engine House and the capped shaft behind it. But the other swifts were more experienced fliers, and they quickly cut off her descent. Forced into retreat, Ivy swerved towards the wood, with the other swifts in close pursuit.
‘No!’ she screamed, but it came out as a shriek — and then the swifts were on her, stabbing at her with their beaks and beating her with their wings. Buffeted by the storm of their rage, Ivy struggled vainly to fend them off. Control was impossible, and hopelessness filled her as she realised they were steering her back towards Mica and the other piskeys.
Tsier-sier, sang another bird as it passed above, mocking her with its freedom. Ivy cried out again as a swift’s beak jabbed into her breast, piercing feathers and skin. She had to get away, or they would tear her to pieces. She folded her wings and spiralled earthwards — then snapped them wide and shot up the slope in a last, desperate run for the Engine House.
Mica gave a shout, and the whizzing sound of his sling rippled the air. Ivy sensed the stone hurtling towards her and rolled — a fraction of a second too late. Heat scored across her back, and the muscles of her shoulder separated in a blaze of dazzling pain. The ground spiralled up to meet her, and she knew it would only be seconds before she hit A freak wind blasted the hillside, thrashing the gorse-bushes and rippling the heather in its wake. Still flapping her one good wing, Ivy felt herself tossed upwards on the breeze. Pain blinded her, and she was still trying to regain control when a dark form loomed up before her and ruthless hands snatched her from the air.
Ivy gave a final cry of agony as her injured wing twisted. Then she willed herself into piskey-form, and let the darkness claim her.
She had thought fainting would be like sleep, a quiet place where she knew nothing and no one could touch her. But though darkness hazed her vision and she had a fuzzy sense of being disconnected from her body, she could still hear someone talking to her, though faint and far away.
‘-don’t know where to find us yet, but they’ll be here any-’
A moment of merciful oblivion, then it returned, louder and closer.
‘-hide you somewhere. But if they find us-’
The words rose and fell in gasps, as though the speaker were running. Strangely, Ivy felt as though she were rising and falling, too. But she had no idea where she was, or who was with her. A dull throbbing spread through her shoulder and radiated out from her chest, but she couldn’t think what it meant.
‘-stop it. Do you hear me? You have to-’
She must have blacked out again, because the next time she became aware the up-and-down sensation had stopped. An earthy smell rose around her, dampness seeping into her clothes. She was lying in bed and someone was covering her up, but why was it so wet, and what was wrong with Then the darkness shattered, and pain smashed into her like rocks falling. Ivy would have screamed, but a hand clamped over her mouth, muffling the cry. ‘Stop glowing!’ her rescuer snapped. ‘ Now! ’
Ivy was too dazed to protest. She willed herself not to glow, and tried to breathe through the pain instead. And now all was black again except for a few glints of grey light above her, and she was half-buried in dirt, her head resting on something hard and warm that smelled like fir needles…
Richard.
‘…can’t have gone far,’ said a soft voice from above, and for a moment Ivy felt sure she must be dreaming, because it sounded like Mattock. ‘But how could he disappear like that?’
‘Quiet,’ came the reply, lower and harsher. ‘Keep looking. He could be anywhere.’
Mica. Ivy caught her breath, but agony stabbed her chest and she let out a feeble moan. The foliage above them rustled, and Richard covered her mouth again, all his muscles tensed for flight.
Don’t move, his body told her. Don’t make a sound.
Ivy dug her fingers into Richard’s arm and bit her lip to keep from screaming. How long had she lain in this dank hole? It felt like forever, and the fiery knots of pain in her chest and shoulder blotted out all other sensation. She would have surrendered to Mica and Mattock gladly, if only it would make the hurting stop…
‘…Ivy, it’s all right. They’ve gone.’
She should have been relieved, but now it hardly seemed to matter. Was it getting brighter? It could be the sun’s rays angling into the cave, but daylight had never seemed so inviting. It bathed her wounds, taking away the pain and lifting her tenderly as her own mother’s arms.
‘Ivy?’
The light was all around her now. A blissful peace enfolded her, and she could feel the world slipping away…
‘Oh no, you don’t.’ Richard’s voice was harsh. ‘Stay with me. Ivy!’
She sighed, melting limp against him. Then a hand smacked onto her injured shoulder, and Ivy’s eyes flew open. The golden light vanished, and cold fire seared through her body. She would have screamed, but the pain was so intense it took her breath away.
‘Live!’ Richard shouted, as a second wave of power shocked through her. Ivy convulsed, bolted upright — and slapped him across the face.
For a moment Richard froze, his eyes wide and his neck still twisted with the force of her blow. Then he collapsed against the back of the muddy hollow and broke into rasping laughter. Only then did it dawn on Ivy that the pain in her shoulder had faded, and her chest no longer stabbed with every breath. She felt weak and a little dizzy, but…
‘I’m alive,’ she whispered.
Her skin was glowing again, and now she could see everything: the burrow lined with soil and dead leaves, the mushrooms crowded into one corner, the roots that kept the ceiling from falling in. Some abandoned fox’s den or badger scrape in the depths of the thicket, so shallow that Richard had been forced to shrink himself and Ivy as small as he could just to fit.
And yet he’d done it. She’d told him to go, but he’d stayed, and when he saw her in trouble, he’d been ready. He’d flown to meet her, cast a spell to throw off her pursuers, transformed into faery-shape to catch her as she fell. And now he’d brought her back from the very gates of death, and what had she given him in return? A smack hard enough to rattle his teeth.