Sam had failed to find Alex for me. I could push him harder, but I didn't think that would get me anywhere. Sam had helped me, not because I had threatened him, but because I turned back and saved him when I could have left him in the glade. He had gone as far as he was prepared to go and pushing him further would only result in him digging in his heels. I consoled myself that I knew more than I did before.
Blackbird was a different problem. I stood and went to the mirror. Laying my hand upon it, I whispered her name into the glass.
'Blackbird?'
The mirror clouded, a sickly glow coming from within. There was a growing buzz, then a stuttering clatter erupted from it and I snatched my hand away before the mirror broke. The glow faded slowly. I could not find her that way.
A different idea occurred to me and I replaced my hand. 'Claire?' The mirror glowed with a more hopeful milky white. 'Claire Raddison?' I could hear vague snatches of words, cut off and jumbled, like a conversation that had been taped, shredded and reassembled in random order. She also had protection against eavesdropping, though not as aggressive as Blackbird's. Were they together? If they were, wouldn't the same protection apply to both of them?
Who else could she be with? Would she return to the forest where she grew up? I could see her wanting to have her baby among the trees, to let him be part of the forest from the very beginning, but the tenuous safety there had failed her before. I could not see her relying solely on that.
Maybe I was looking at this from the wrong angle. I was searching for Blackbird, or a place she would go, or a friend she would turn to. Maybe I needed to come at this from an entirely different direction.
I placed my hand back on the mirror.
'Deefnir?'
I had only seen him once, hanging back as Raffmir came forward to greet me, but I remembered the sardonic curve of that lip, the foppish mop of black hair that fell over his eyes, the way his smile never reached his eyes.
'Deefnir, where are you?'
The mirror clouded then cleared. Into the room came a subtle shuffle and soft hush, the sound of outdoors. I was getting somewhere. I focused on the mirror, slowly increasing the connection, not wanting him to realise that I was listening in or trigger his defences, keeping it low profile.
Wherever he was, it sounded remote. There was no buzz of cars or rumble of diesel engines, so if it was London then it was a park or a common. No, even then there would be the bark of distant motorbikes, the distant cry of sirens or the rumble of the jets turning for Heathrow. No, this was somewhere altogether more remote.
If Deefnir wasn't in London then Blackbird wasn't either. Should I break off to pass this information to Garvin? The first question he would ask would be: 'Where is he?'
I concentrated, trying to decipher the layers of sound coming through the mirror. A breeze gusted, the grass rustling in response. Where there other rustlings behind that? The distant caw of crows echoed for a moment, but not nearby. A forest, maybe, but where was the sibilant hush of the breeze in the trees? No, this was in the open.
There was a droning, a distant airplane maybe, except it didn't pass. Was it an air-conditioner? It didn't sound right for that. Maybe a car, but then why didn't it drive away? Wherever Deefnir was, he wasn't moving. Then a shout, tantalisingly short. Not near enough to recognise a voice or a word, but a sign that people were close by. He was watching someone, or something, but what?
Now came the sound of movement, a sliding shuffle. Was he moving closer? What was he trying to do? Wherever he was, he was being cautious. What would make Deefnir cautious? What was there that he would be afraid of? He was wraithkin and pure-bred at that. There was little that would stand against him. What was causing him to hang back?
The rumbling sound in the background rose in volume, a diesel rumble, but constant, not like a bus or a taxi. Was it a generator, or maybe a stationary vehicle? Then it came. The memory snapped into place. It was a tractor. Then came a sound I recognised, and I knew straightaway where he was. I could see it in my head. A baying bark, deep and full, followed by another. Two dogs, heckles up, legs braced: I could see them in my imagination, coats the colour of burnt honey bristling down their backs as they picked up the scent of the intruder. He was in Shropshire, at the farm owned by the Highsmith family, where Blackbird and I had gone last year to get the Quick Knife reforged for the Ceremony of the Quit Rents.
I heard Deefnir turn and retreat, moving cautiously away from the unwanted attention, then accelerating as the sound of the barking increased. His pace increased until there was a steady padding and the sounds of the farm diminished, but I dropped my hand from the mirror. Now I knew where he was.
The farm should have given it away, and with my rural upbringing I should have recognised the sound of a tractor, but what sealed it was the sound of the dogs, the two mastiffs that Jeff and Meg Highsmith kept on their farm in Shropshire. Their distinctive baying brought the memory back immediately, and if Deefnir was there, then so was Blackbird. It made sense. The place was steeped in iron. The Highsmiths knew about the Feyre and had their own ways of protecting themselves. I was surprised, though, that Meg Highsmith would take Blackbird in. As far as Meg was concerned, Blackbird was trouble that Meg didn't need. She was there, though. Why else would Deefnir be there?
I needed to let Garvin know. I replaced my hand on the mirror.
'Garvin? It's Niall.'
The sound from the mirror was of traffic, somewhere busy, maybe London or somewhere equally urban. 'Garvin, can you hear me? It's Niall. I've found Deefnir.' There was no response.
I removed my hand, then placed it again. 'Tate?'
The sound of traffic re-emerged. Where you found one you found the other. What were they doing? I took my hand away again, letting the milky light fade from the mirror. Who to try next?
'Fionh?' This time the mirror filled with milky light, but then quickly cleared leaving no sound at all. The mirror was completely silent. I wondered whether she was with the High Court, in which case it was no surprise to learn that it was not possible to eavesdrop on that conversation.
I was running out of options. 'Fellstamp?' This time a sound emerged immediately, the harsh drone of someone snoring. 'Fellstamp? Wake up, it's Niall. I need to speak with you.'
The snoring continued its rasping rhythm. 'Fellstamp! Wake up! I need your help!'
There was no change. He seemed to be making more noise than I was.
'Amber?' This time the mirror filled with a sour sickly green, the light pulsing in strange ways as it made strange clicks and ticks. Where on earth was she? The connection faltered and I let it drop.
That left one more to try. 'Slimgrin?' The mirror filled with light once more.
This time the sound was outdoors. There was a hush of trees, the sound of leaves in the breeze. The raucous cry of rooks disturbed the quiet, their harsh accusing voices crying out of the sky. It felt open and wild; I could almost picture them circling around the trees, returning to roost in the evening light, cawing and calling to each other as they spiralled down.
'Slimgrin, can you hear me? I need you to get a message to Garvin. Tell him Blackbird is in Shropshire with the Highsmiths. Deefnir's there too. Did you get that?'
The only sounds were the call of the rooks over a muted shuffling, a sense of shifting weight or changing position. Where was he? Had he heard me?
'Slimgrin, are you there? I know where Blackbird is. She's at the farm near Bridgenorth. Can you hear me?'
There was a loud thumping, not from the mirror, but from outside my room. Someone was banging on my door.
'Slimgrin? She's in Shropshire. I found her. Deefnir's there. Can you hear me?' I was shouting now, making myself heard over the thumping. It rose to an insistent hammering.
'I'm going to have to go.'
I released my hand and the sound dissipated, making the thumping on my door sound as if someone was trying to break in, rather than simply get my attention.
'Mr Dawson.' Martha's voice came through the door. 'Are you in there?'
I went to the door, unlocked it and opened it just enough to see who was there. 'Sorry, I was talking to one
