I found the Tube station in time to get a ride into central London. The long ride lulled me, but I had too much still to do to allow myself to sleep. I used the Tube to get into the West End and then used one of the Warders' houses as a gateway to the Way. Using Raffmir's slingshot technique I was back in Yorkshire within two hours of meeting Kayleigh. When I stumbled out of the Way-node, it had mercifully stopped raining. The ground was sodden, and the grass squelched as I tramped down the bank into town.
The lights were on in the church as I passed, but I ignored that and went straight down to the guest house. I still had my key, so I let myself in.
"You're very late again, Mr Dobson." Martha was in the kitchen with the door open, sewing.
"And it's late to be still sewing. It's bad for your eyes, you know."
"I'm just doing some buttons, then I'll be retiring. You look like you should do the same, Mr Dobson."
"I won't be up long, I assure you."
"I'll wish you good night then."
"Good night."
I took the stairs up to my room and locked the door behind me, stowed my gear and sword and hung up my jacket. Then I sat on the end of the bed and collapsed backwards. What with the cumulative effect of the Ways, lack of sleep and a long, long day, I fought to keep my eyes open. I sat up. I needed a shower before bed anyway, so it was pointless getting comfortable.
I stood in front of the chest and rested my hand on the face of the mirror.
"Garvin?"
The mirror misted gently and there was a muted thumping sound.
"Niall, you're late. I was about to send out a search party." There was humour in his tone. He was obviously in a better mood than last time.
"How are things at Court?"
"They are progressing. Fellstamp is recovering from that scratch you gave him and between us we have been able to keep track of Altair. He hasn't brought any more over, so we are coping. Have you seen anything of Raffmir?"
It was pointless lying to him as he would hear it immediately. "He came to the cafe. We talked. He said that you'd sent me here to keep me away from the negotiations."
"He's right. I did."
"He said it was because the High Court were negotiating for the fate of the half-breeds. He said you were keeping me away from it so I wouldn't prejudice the negotiations."
"He's right about that too. If you cause an incident, the High Court might be less able to defend their position on the half-breeds. It would look as if you were undermining them."
"I don't think that's what he meant."
"I know exactly what he meant. He means to sow discord among us. You need to stay tight and not let him get under your skin."
"He's already under my skin. I just want to tell him to get lost."
"As long as he's with you, he's not somewhere else, Niall. Speaking of which, we've lost Blackbird again."
"What do you mean lost?"
"As in: we don't know where she is. She's hard to protect if we can't find her."
"She's hard to hurt if Deefnir can't find her."
"As long as they don't know where she is either, that's true. If they've followed her, then that could be trouble."
"I don't know where she went either, if that's what you're asking."
"Would you tell me if you found out?"
"That would depend on her. I think I'd let her make that choice. It's her life."
"That's a dangerous game, Niall."
"They're all dangerous games until the Untainted take themselves back home and leave us in peace."
"True. Talk to her, please. Try and persuade her to come back in."
"I'll pass on your request, Garvin. She'll make her own mind up, you know that."
"So I do. Very well."
"Anything else to report?"
This was the moment. I should tell Garvin about Raffmir's secret conversations. I should explain about the ability to make small jumps using magic. I should tell him Raffmir knew where my daughter was. But if I did, Raffmir said she would die. He had been straight about that, at least.
"No, there's nothing else I want to tell you."
"How are the missing girls?"
"Some of them, fine. The others are still missing though, as in missing from the records. They don't appear as missing women anywhere in the archives, as far as I can tell. There's no local knowledge of lost women. I have thirty or forty skulls and no owners. I'll have to go to the Records Office at Northallerton to confirm it, but that's the story here. If there were a string of murders, even over a timescale of hundreds of years, there would be something. Instead, it's a blank wall."
"So what's your conclusion?"
"I don't have a conclusion yet. I'm following the evidence."
"Good. Let me know when you get somewhere."
"I will."
"And get some sleep. You sound like death warmed up."
"I'm just tired. Long day."
"Report tomorrow evening, earlier than this, if you can?"
"Will do."
"Sleep well, Niall."
"I'll try." That came out ringing with untruth, but Garvin said nothing and I took my hand from the mirror.
The night wasn't over yet.
SEVENTEEN
Having spoken to Garvin, I could try Blackbird. I placed my hand back on the mirror.
"Blackbird?"
It misted under my hand.
"Blackbird, are you there?"
A strange whistling sound came from the mirror, followed by a buzz and crackle that made it sound like a badly tuned old-fashioned radio set. The buzz grew into a whine until the mirror vibrated with it and I was forced to remove my hand or risk the mirror. The condensation on the surface slowly contracted around my vacant handprint until it vanished. Wherever she had gone, it was secure against eavesdropping, by me or anyone else. Was that good news or bad? I tried to look on the positive side. If I couldn't find her, then maybe Deefnir wouldn't be able to either.
I had exhausted my enquiries, though I would dearly like to have talked to Blackbird before I slept. I suspected that I would find myself dreaming of the glade again. This time I was going to have to deal with it properly. If I didn't, I was never going to have a restful night's sleep again.
With a sense of mounting trepidation, I showered and prepared for bed. It felt more like girding my loins than readying myself for sleep. I slid in under the covers and lay in the near dark. I was so tired that my eyes felt gritty and heavy, but sleep would not come. Part of me knew what would happen when it did, and so I rolled on one side and then the other, delaying the moment.
I thought about all the things I'd learned: about the boats and the harbour, the men who never made it back to port, the way the town was changing, the feeble attempt to become a tourist resort with a disorganised museum and an unsuitable cafe. I puzzled about Raffmir and the reason for his unsolicited generosity. I questioned whether Garvin's reasons for keeping me away from the courts were really as straightforward as they appeared, and I wondered whether Kayleigh was sleeping any easier.
There must have been a moment when I wasn't thinking about any of these before I found myself on the path in the forest, but if there was, I do not remember it.
The transition was seamless. It was as if I was expected. I was clothed again, in fine black silk. My fingers were adorned with silver rings and an intricate silver clasp belted my waist. My feet were bare, and I could feel the crush and prickle of the pine needles beneath me. The air was heavy with resin, though frosty cold. Undisturbed in the dry, freezing air, the pine scent clung to my clothes and swirled around me as I moved slowly forward.
Looking behind me, I saw that the path vanished into pine-boughs where the rough trunks pressed together. The only sound was the brush of the soft needles against my arms and the prickling tread of my feet.