Swift (29 page)

‘Tell him what?’ asked Mica in a puzzled tone. ‘Why don’t you get up?’

Was he really that stupid, that he couldn’t see what was happening to her? ‘Because I’m stuck in the Claybane!’ Ivy shouted. ‘And any minute now I’m going to end up like—’

But then it dawned on her that she
hadn’t
ended up like Mattock and Betony, after all. Her hands and legs were wet with slime, but the Claybane hadn’t crawled any higher, even though she ought to have been half covered in it by now. Disbelieving, Ivy pushed herself up onto hands and knees, then clambered to her feet. There was no resistance.

‘It’s not working,’ she murmured, staring at her muddy palms. ‘But why?’

‘Why indeed?’ asked a cool voice from the darkness. ‘And how did you manage to escape my Claybane the first time, for that matter? Apparently the faery part of you is a great deal stronger than I’d thought. How irksome. I can see I’ll have to deal with you some other way.’

Ivy whirled as the far end of the tunnel lit up and Gillian Menadue stepped out of the shadows, no longer invisible. She’d made herself piskey size when she came into the Delve, and for the first time Ivy saw her wings, translucent and brittle-looking as a wasp’s. Yet there was nothing delicate about the way Gillian held them. They were raised at a menacing angle, like blades that might come slashing down at any moment.

‘Mica,’ said Ivy, not taking her eyes off the faery woman, ‘get out of here
.
’

‘But you—’

‘I can look after myself!’ Ivy shouted. ‘Just
go
!’

And for a wonder, he did. As his hurried footsteps faded, Gillian tipped her head to one side and gave Ivy a curious smile. ‘Was that your brother? Handsome boy. But he’ll never make it, you know. There must be Claybane traps all over the Delve by now.’

‘Enough,’ said Ivy tightly. ‘What have you done with my sister?’

‘Cicely? Oh, she’s well enough.’ Gillian waved a hand at the statue of Betony, and it shrank to the same tiny size as the figures Ivy had seen in the workshop. She nudged it aside with her foot. ‘She’s just a little busy at the moment. I told her that unless she carried out my instructions, everyone in her family would die. And since then she’s proved quite useful…for a child.’

‘So you sent her to sprinkle Claybane around the tunnels for you, while you waited here for the Joan,’ Ivy said, suppressing her fury at the revelation. Cicely must have been terrified, to obey Gillian with so little resistance. ‘That’s why you came down here, wasn’t it? To make sure Betony didn’t escape.’

‘I was prepared to fight her, if she proved difficult. But she walked straight into my trap.’ Her smile broadened, lips parting over her white teeth. ‘I knew you piskeys had grown weak and careless living underground, but I never guessed destroying you would be
this
easy.’

She sounded confident. Yet if Gillian was so certain of her success, why was she still here? There must be something she had left to do, or she would have gone back to the surface…

So maybe it wasn’t too late to stop her.

‘And when Cicely’s done your work for you,’ Ivy asked, ‘what then? Are you planning to sit here and wait for everyone else to turn into statues? That could take a while.’

‘Oh, I have an idea of how to speed things up,’ said Gillian. ‘A little something I was working on before I met your mother. But it may not be necessary, once the panic spreads. We’ll see.’

Ivy glanced behind her. Did she dare to turn herself into a swift, and make a break for the exit? But there were no day-lamps in the tunnels, and she wouldn’t get far without light. She could make herself invisible and try to creep out, but that wouldn’t hide her from an enemy as powerful as Gillian, especially in an enclosed space. Her best hope was to keep the conversation going, until she could distract the faery woman and escape.

‘I warned the others about the Claybane,’ Ivy said. Though half the people she’d told were already trapped – but Gillian didn’t need to know that. ‘They know how it works.’

‘Of course you did,’ said Gillian mildly. ‘But as I’m sure you’ve noticed, it’s hard to avoid a trap you can’t even see. The only way to get safely out of the Delve now is to fly, and only females can do that. Or at least,’ she added with a patronising smile, ‘
most
females.’

Once Ivy would have bristled at the taunt, but now she ignored it. Let Gillian go on thinking her wingless and weak – she’d find out how wrong she’d been about that soon enough. She sneaked a glance at the glow-spell Gillian had conjured, still floating close to the roof of the tunnel. Could she knock it out somehow, and extinguish her own light at the same time? Maybe – but she’d have to wait for exactly the right moment to do it, to make the most of the distraction.

‘We’ll find our way out,’ Ivy told her, with more boldness than she felt. ‘My people may not have the same kind of magic you do, but we know the earth and we’re stronger than you think. And even if you do manage to capture all the men, what makes you think that the women won’t come after you instead?’

‘I doubt that, considering how ignorant they are of life outside the Delve,’ Gillian replied. ‘I suspect they’ll be far too busy trying to find food and shelter to think about revenge. On the other hand…’ She gave a little shrug. ‘I haven’t been particularly impressed with the piskey women I’ve met so far, faery blood or not. Perhaps I’ll leave you all to the Claybane, and save myself the trouble.’

Inwardly Ivy cursed herself; that wasn’t the conclusion she’d wanted Gillian to come to at all. But there was no taking the words back now. ‘How is that any different from the way my ancestors thought about faeries?’ she demanded. ‘That one is as good – or bad – as another? You’re no better than they were, for all your talk about justice.’

Gillian looked at her nails, feigning indifference. But Ivy went on with rising passion, ‘Can’t you see how backward this revenge of yours has become? You’ve spent your whole life brooding over faeries who are long dead, and hating piskeys who don’t even remember that you exist. What about Molly and her father? They’re the ones that are alive, the ones that know and care about you. And you treat them like they’re worthless.’

That struck a nerve. Gillian held up a warning finger, power crackling around its tip. ‘Hold your tongue,’ she said, ‘or I’ll burn it out. You know nothing about my family, or me.’

‘I know Molly,’ Ivy replied, moving closer. The crystals of an idea were beginning to form themselves in her mind. ‘She’s kind and bright and talented, and she deserves a mother who cares about her, not just about her own selfish plans. How are you going to look her in the face, when she confronts you with what you’ve done?’

‘Molly knows nothing of this.’ Gillian’s voice was flat. ‘She’s asleep.’

‘No, she’s not,’ said Ivy. ‘She’s back in your workshop, crying because of what you did to Richard. Her faery godfather.’

‘Impossible,’ Gillian said. But for the first time a note of uncertainty crept into her voice, and silently Ivy exulted. It was working! If she could just keep her distracted a little longer…

‘All her life Molly’s longed to get close to faeries,’ Ivy went on as she walked past Gillian, towards the edge of the Great Shaft. ‘No wonder, since she’s half-faery herself. But you kept her away from that part of her heritage, refused even to admit that faeries existed – all so you could carry out this twisted revenge of yours. Do you really think she’s going to forgive you for that? Especially now that she knows what you did to Richard, and to me?’

As Ivy spoke, she laid a hand on the railing. An icy tingle ran up her arm, but she made herself hold steady, as though it didn’t bother her at all. If Gillian didn’t realise that Ivy could touch iron, then maybe…

‘Ivy?’ said a small voice, trembling with emotion, and Ivy’s breath caught. She turned to see Cicely standing at the entrance of the tunnel, an empty sack of Claybane dangling from her hand.

She would have run to Cicely, but Gillian was quicker. She stepped out between them, holding out her hands as though in benediction – but the glance she gave Ivy warned that bad things would happen if she dared to interfere.

‘Well done,’ she said to Cicely. ‘You have saved your family, and earned their freedom. Come and join us.’

But Cicely backed away. ‘You lied to me,’ she said. ‘You said Ivy was trapped, just like I was – that you were the only one who could release her. But she’s here. And you made me—’ She gave a little sob of rage, and flung the Claybane sack onto the floor. ‘You
lied
!’

Gillian’s face hardened, and Ivy knew the faery woman was about to do something terrible. ‘Cicely, run!’ she shouted, but Gillian’s gaze had already locked onto her sister’s, and it was too late. Cicely’s shoulders went slack, hands dropping to her sides, and her face turned blank as a doll’s.

‘Walk,’ commanded Gillian, and without hesitation Ivy’s sister stepped forward – right into the patch of Claybane.

‘No!’ Ivy shouted, but the echo of her cry died away as Cicely continued straight through the puddle without stopping. Gillian looked startled, but she was quick to recover. She seized Cicely’s wrist and pulled her to her side.

‘Well,’ she said. ‘It appears the Claybane only works on a piskey once, so now you’re both immune. Which means I can’t let either one of you out of my sight.’

By now muffled shouts and screams were reverberating up the Shaft from the lower tunnels, piskeys panicking as the Claybane did its work. In the corridors doors opened and slammed again, footsteps pounded and were suddenly cut short, and a child wailed in wordless terror.

‘Listen to that,’ said Ivy, slapping the rail so hard the iron shuddered. ‘You hate my people for what they did to you and your family. Do you really think the children of the Delve aren’t going to hate you just as much for what you’ve done here today? Your own daughter already does!’

Gillian’s hands came down hard on Cicely’s shoulders. ‘Never,’ she said. ‘Molly is
mine
.’

‘She was, until you started treating her like a nuisance,’ Ivy retorted. ‘Not to mention deceiving her, and hurting her friends, and using magic on her against her will. But she broke your spell, and she got me out of the Claybane, too. She’ll never trust you again.’

The faery woman stood immobile with Cicely in her grip. Deep lines had formed about her eyes and mouth, and for a moment she looked almost as old as Nettle. But then she shook herself, and straightened up again. ‘It makes no difference,’ she said. ‘It’s done now. And I’m about to—’

A thunderous
crack
shook the tunnel, and a shower of debris roared down. Ivy leaped back against the wall, flinging her arms over her head, and Cicely let out a scream. But when the dust cleared, the faery woman still stood with Cicely beside her, both of them encased in a shimmering bubble of magic. Rocks had fallen all around them, but none had broken through.

Still, if it was Mica swinging that thunder-axe, he hadn’t struck in vain. In the confusion Cicely had broken free of Gillian’s mental hold, and now she was struggling like a wild thing. Gillian held tight to her wrist, trying to twist her into submission – but the piskey girl lunged forward and bit her captor’s arm.

With a shriek Gillian let go, and as Cicely hurtled away from her Ivy knew her opportunity had come. She extinguished her light, willed herself into swift-form, and flung herself straight at Gillian’s face.

Nothing happened.

Arms still outspread in a futile mockery of wings, Ivy crashed to the floor of the tunnel. The breath whooshed out of her lungs, and her chin hit the ground so hard she tasted blood. She rolled over, gasping, and clutched at the rail for support. But the iron stung her hands, and she had to snatch them away.

What a fool she’d been! How could she have forgotten what had happened in Molly’s barn, when that loose nail had cancelled her invisibility spell? Maybe being away from the Delve had strengthened the faery part of her nature, or maybe Richard’s healing had brought it to the fore. But either way, Ivy was no longer immune to the effects of iron. She’d hoped to trick Gillian into touching the rail – but instead she’d only crippled herself.

The ceiling cracked again, more rocks cascading down. But the cave-in was going to kill Ivy long before it hurt Gillian, whose magical shield clung to her like a second, impenetrable skin. She fired off a spell that sent Cicely tumbling, then stooped over Ivy and seized her by the back of the neck.

‘Try to attack me, will you?’ she spat. ‘Little savage. You’re not fit to lead your people – you’re not even fit to live.’ She picked Ivy up as though she were weightless, and flung her against the railing.

The metal groaned as Ivy slammed into it, and she heard something inside her crack. For a sickening moment she hung over the rail, with the black abyss yawning below her. Then with a desperate effort she shoved herself backwards, and collapsed to the rock-strewn floor.

She’d failed, utterly and completely. Her whole plan had relied on being able to transform into a swift – her secret triumph, her greatest pride – but now even that was denied her. With a groan Ivy clutched at her injured ribs, and waited for Gillian to deliver the killing blow.

But it never came. Gillian stared down at Ivy, then at her own hands. For the first time she appeared shaken, even a little frightened. Could she be realising she’d gone too far?

‘Stop this,’ Ivy croaked at her. Every breath felt like someone was knifing her in the side, but she managed to struggle to her feet. ‘It’s not too late. You can still make it right. Molly will—’