'How am I going to find her?' It was a question partly to myself.
'Maybe you'll be able to reach her again, and listen in to what's going on around her.'
'No. They were panicking when I reached her the first time. They'll keep her sedated until they're sure I'm not looking for her.'
'You may have to be patient.'
'Not my strongest point. No, I think I need to find out who's got her. The obvious place to start is with Mr Phillips, the consultant who brought the consent forms. He must have known they were going to take her. Find him and I find a way to her.'
'So find him.'
'What, now?'
'Is there a better time?'
Over the fireplace there was a large mirror with a dust cloth draped partly across it. Blackbird slid sideways on to the seat and let me rise so I could draw the dust sheet down. It fell in ripples to the fireplace. Even in the gloom I could see the frame was ornate, two herons facing each other across the pool of glass. It was high above the fireplace and difficult to reach, but I didn't need contact to do this. I formed a connection with the well of darkness deep within me and reached into the depths of the mirror with my intention, connecting that focus to the core of power within me.
'Mr Phillips?'
I could feel the link with the mirror. I wondered for a moment how the mirror knew which Mr Phillips I wanted, but then realised that it was linked not to the words but to my image of him.
'Mr Phillips?'
The mirror went opaque as I intensified the connection, the surface glowing like fluorescent milk. There was a small ticking sound, increasing in pace until it was a buzz.
'Where are you, Mr Phillips?' I was beginning to like this. Once I knew where this guy was, I could use him to find my daughter.
Suddenly the sound changed. It was like bad feedback on an untuned guitar, jarring in intensity, full of wrongness. It rose to a deafening roar and the glass crazed and then flew apart in a rain of fine shards. Blackbird and I shielded ourselves and it was a moment before we both realised that the sound had gone.
The frame was empty, the mirror shattered.
FOUR
Fionh appeared in the doorway. She switched on the main light and the guilty carpet of shards glinted around me.
'What were you doing?' she asked.
'I was using the mirror,' I tried to explain. 'Something went wrong.'
Garvin appeared at Fionh's shoulder. He surveyed the room and then entered. 'So you decided to try and find her anyway?'
'Blackbird thinks she's not mad, and I agree with her.'
'And if she is?'
'If she is, I'll deal with it.'
'You told me earlier that you couldn't. You weren't lying.'
'I'm not lying now, either.'
'What changed your mind?'
'I'm her father, Garvin. I needed to remember that. I'll do what needs to be done, but she's not mad.'
'You don't know that.'
'Neither do you.' It was stalemate.
Into the room bustled an old man. I had seen no one that old among the Feyre. Fionh moved out of his way, as did Garvin. He carried a dustpan and brush and offered his hand to lead me gently from the wreckage of the mirror.
'Mr Garvin, would you be kind enough to ask Mr Dogstar not to break any more of the furnishings if he could manage that?' he said. He went down to his knees and began carefully sweeping up glass. There was no sarcasm in the comment.
'I will make sure he gets the message, Mullbrook.' He looked at me and I nodded my assent. 'Are our guests' rooms ready?'
'I have put them in the east wing where I hope that Miss Blackbird will find the morning sunshine to her liking,' he said. 'The beds should be aired by now and there's plenty of hot water. If you wouldn't mind showing them where their rooms are, I have some clearing up to do.'
'I'll show them,' Garvin said.
We were ushered out ahead of Garvin while Mullbrook remained, carefully sweeping up the debris. I was about to say something to Garvin when he held his fingers to his lips. It wasn't until we had ascended the main staircase and turned through the double doors on the landing that he spoke.
'Mullbrook has ears like a bat,' Garvin commented, 'So just be aware that he will overhear anything you say.'
'Is that a problem?'
'No. He's absolutely loyal and the soul of discretion. I just don't want you upsetting him. This place runs like clockwork and that is largely due to him. If you offend him we may end up having kidneys for breakfast for a week.'
I glanced towards Blackbird, who had turned slightly green.
'Kidneys?'
'Or tripe. Tripe is a favourite when he's upset.'
'For breakfast?'
'Just don't offend him, and try not to break anything else. This is his home as much as it is anyone's and you're his guest.'
'Who is he?'
'He's the chief steward. He looks after the house and makes sure that everything runs as it should.'
'He's not fey, is he?' said Blackbird.
'No. He's quite human, but he's served the Feyre for most of his life and even the High Council pay attention to him, so don't upset him. He'll look after you while you're here. If you need anything, just ask and it will be provided. There are other staff too. Try not to get in their way.'
He stopped outside a double doorway, opened one of the doors and ushered Blackbird in before him. I followed behind. Inside was a suite of rooms: a sitting room with a fire laid ready to light, a bedroom with one of the biggest beds I've ever seen. The deep red coverlet had been drawn back and the quilt turned back on each side, exposing white cotton sheets. Through another door there was a marble-tiled bathroom with a huge double-ended bath.
'This is sumptuous, Garvin,' said Blackbird.
'Thank Mullbrook. He thinks you need looking after.'
I went to the tall French windows, discovering a small balcony with views out over the valley. The light had faded, leaving the landscape scattered with pinpoint lights under moonlit clouds. I turned back to Garvin.
'You can't ask me not to look for her.'
'I could, but I'm not going to. I'm asking you not to look for her now, not from here. You've already compromised one location. I don't know whether that stunt you pulled downstairs was your idea or Blackbird's.' He looked from me to her, then back to me. 'But you swore to protect the High Council, Dogstar, and if you bring the sort of attention that you brought to your last house here, you will be breaking your vows.'
'I'll go somewhere else, then. I can't leave her there. I'm her father, dammit!'
'You're not listening, and you're not thinking either. What do you think is going to happen? She called you Daddy. Do you think they won't make the connection? They'll be looking for you everywhere. They will go to
