able to do it again.
I can fly! Ivy’s heart sang out. She wanted to burst into the cavern and shout her triumph, wake up Mica and Cicely so they could see the miracle. But she couldn’t do that yet — it was too risky. She had to at least free Richard first. Dimming her glow to the barest hint of luminescence, she eased the door open and tiptoed in.
Flint’s thunder-axe was propped against the wall in its usual place, with his well-worn boots beside it. Ivy glanced at the bed-alcoves, reassuring herself that all the curtains were drawn. Then with painstaking care she lifted the magical pickaxe, and carried it out the door.
Lowering herself and the thunder-axe down the Great Shaft at the same time was an agonising business. Every time the pick’s weight shifted Ivy held her breath, fearing the precious tool would slip free of her makeshift harness and drop into the flooded depths below. But at last she made it safely to Richard’s cell.
‘I did it,’ she panted as she loosened the ropes around her chest and lifted the thunder-axe free. ‘Now let’s get that iron off your ankle.’
Richard looked blank, and Ivy wondered if he’d understood. ‘I said,’ she began more loudly, but he cut her off.
‘I heard you,’ he replied. ‘I’m just a bit unused to pleasant surprises, that’s all. Are you really planning to strike off my manacle with that thing? From the way you’re staggering about, it seems more likely that you’re going to smash my foot to bits with it.’
‘I’ll try not to,’ said Ivy tartly. She crouched beside him, examining the iron band. ‘How did they put this on you?’
‘I don’t know. I was unconscious when-’ But then Ivy slipped her fingers between the manacle and his skin, and his words ended in a gasp.
‘Did I hurt you?’ Ivy pulled her hand away. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘No, not that.’ Richard sounded shaken. ‘It’s — you. You touched iron on purpose.’
Oh, of course. She’d forgotten what a shock that would be to him. ‘My people have been working with rock and metal for centuries,’ Ivy said, feeling her way around the band. ‘If we lost our magic every time we touched iron, how would we get anything done?’ She sat back. ‘I can’t find a hinge or a keyhole anywhere. They must have spelled it right onto your ankle.’
He stared at her. ‘You mean piskeys can use magic on iron, too?’
‘Some of us can. Unfortunately for you, I’m not one of them. That’s why I borrowed this.’ She nodded at the thunder-axe. ‘But we’ll need to put some padding around your ankle first.’
Without hesitation Richard pulled off what was left of his shirt and handed it to her. His skin was sickly-pale beneath the bruises, his collarbones jutting and his ribs clearly visible. ‘Try not to swoon,’ he said dryly.
‘I’ve never swooned in my life,’ said Ivy. She tore the shirt into strips, and pushed as much of the worn fabric as she could between the manacle and the faery’s ankle. ‘Ready?’ she asked.
Richard looked apprehensive, but he nodded.
‘Just one thing,’ Ivy said as she hefted the pickaxe. ‘And I want you to tell me the truth. When you came here looking for me, on Lighting night — did you bring someone else with you? Or did you tell anyone where you’d gone?’
She watched his face, searching for even the tiniest hint of guilt or fear. But he only looked puzzled. ‘Your Joan asked me the same thing, this morning,’ he said. ‘But no, I came alone. And the only one who knew I was coming here was Marigold.’
If he was a liar, he was a very good one. ‘All right,’ said Ivy, and swung the thunder-axe down.
The blade struck with a ringing clank and a spark of brilliant blue light. Richard made a strangled noise, and she knew the blow had hurt him — but when Ivy’s dazzled vision cleared, the band was still intact.
Obviously she hadn’t figured out how to use the magical pickaxe quite right. Maybe if she pushed a bit of her own magic into it first… With barely a pause, Ivy raised the thunder-axe and brought it down again.
This time the spark was so bright, Ivy stumbled and nearly dropped the pick. The iron manacle cracked in two, and clattered onto the stone at Richard’s feet.
‘Finally,’ the faery breathed. He slid away from her and rubbed his ankle, which was cruelly blistered where the iron had pressed against it. She waited for him to do something magical — heal himself perhaps, or spell himself clean, or mend his tattered clothes. But all he did was sit there.
‘Well?’ she asked. ‘Are we going to fly? There might still be time, if we hurry.’
Richard raised his eyebrows. ‘After wearing iron for over a week? It’ll be hours — maybe even days — before I can do magic again. I’m not flying anywhere tonight.’
Ivy recoiled as though he had slapped her. ‘You…you can’t be serious. You said-’
‘I said I’d take you to your mother if you let me go. I never said I could do it right away.’ But there was no triumph in his tone, only resignation. ‘I’m not going to try and escape, if that’s why you’re still gripping that pickaxe. I can’t even get out of this tunnel, unless you lead me out yourself.’
Ivy’s hands tightened on the thunder-axe. ‘I can’t do that,’ she said. She’d been prepared for everything from passionate gratitude to cold-blooded betrayal, but she’d never anticipated this. ‘If we were caught…’
‘Then go, and leave me here.’ He spoke wearily, as though he’d expected nothing better. ‘Maybe your Joan will think I freed myself, when she comes to execute me tomorrow.’
Alarm stabbed into Ivy. ‘Execute you? She told you that?’
‘Oh yes. Quite matter-of-factly. I’m to be hanged in the Market Cavern, with someone called Hew knotting the rope, and my body left in the Engine House as a warning to my accomplice. Whoever that is.’
Ivy wished she could believe he was lying, but his story was far too likely. Keeve’s family were still crying out for vengeance, and if Richard’s body was left on the surface to deter whatever creature had been skulking about the Engine House, it would satisfy the hunters as well.
‘But you never know,’ Richard went on. ‘Maybe before then I’ll be strong enough to fly out of here — though that’s going to be a bit difficult, with no light to see by.’ His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘Pity I never learned to take bat-shape.’
He was right about that too, unfortunately. If she’d been worried about Cicely flying up the Great Shaft without a glow to light her way, how could she expect Richard to do any better? The only way to be sure of getting him safely to the surface was to take him out of the Delve herself.
Yet to free a prisoner that the Joan had condemned to death, and lead him to the surface through tunnels that no one but a piskey had ever been allowed to see — it was unthinkable, unforgivable. If Ivy were caught, it would not only bring disgrace on her entire family, but she’d probably be executed as well.
I can’t, her mind cried out, I can’t do this, there has to be another way. But it was too late for that. First she’d healed Richard, then she’d fed him, and now she’d freed him from his chains. And she’d promised to help him get out of the Delve.
Ivy drew a deep breath, willing herself strong. Then she hefted Flint’s thunder-axe up onto her shoulder and said, ‘All right. Come with me.’ seven
If carrying the thunder-axe down the shaft had been hard for Ivy, getting it back up was even more of a challenge. Growing a couple of hand-spans taller made the pick a lighter burden, but it also made her heavier — not to mention putting more strain on the rope. She’d only climbed a little way before she had to shrink to her customary size, and by the time she reached the iron railing she was wheezing.
‘I’m up,’ she panted to Richard as she clambered over, making her glow as bright as she dared so that he’d have enough light for his own climb. ‘Tie the rope around your waist, and I’ll-’
But Richard was already pulling himself up the shaft towards her, feet braced wide on the rock. His strength surprised Ivy — if he could manage such a climb even in his weakened state, how strong had he been before? But when he reached the railing he stopped, leaning back on the rope.
‘That’s iron,’ he said flatly. ‘I can’t touch it.’
‘You have to,’ she whispered, but he shook his head.
‘Touching iron’s like an electric shock to a faery — it doesn’t just take away our magic, it hurts. It can even knock us unconscious. If I grab it, I may not be able to hang on.’ He shifted his footing on the rock and reached a hand up towards her. ‘I’ll have to jump as high as I can, and let you pull me over.’
This was ridiculous, thought Ivy. They’d never get out of the Delve at this rate. Still, there was nothing else but to try it, so she leaned as far over the railing as she could and gripped his hand in her own.
‘One,’ mouthed Richard, crouching against the rock. ‘Two. Three- ’
