‘Wait-’ Ivy called, but Molly had already slammed the door behind her.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Richard. ‘She’ll be all right by tomorrow. And so will you, once you’ve had a proper night’s sleep.’
Ivy bristled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I told you your mother was at a dance school,’ he said. ‘If I thought that was some kind of dark secret, I wouldn’t have said it. I’ve never lied to you yet, Ivy. Not that I expect you to be impressed by that, but you should be, because I’m one of the few faeries who can.’ He pushed himself upright and went to the window. ‘Marigold will explain everything when you see her — tomorrow. Tonight, you need to rest.’
‘I’m not tired.’ Ivy spoke crisply, to deny the embarrassment crawling inside her. Perhaps she had leaped to the wrong conclusion, and perhaps she was being unfair — but she hated being so vulnerable, so easily caught off guard. ‘Why can’t we go to Truro right now?’
‘Because you’re not ready to fly again, even if you think you are.’ His hands tightened on the windowsill. ‘Do you have any idea how damaged your body must have been, to need two complete healings in a day?’
The reminder of how much she owed him shamed her, but she was determined not to let it hold her back. ‘All right, then we’ll fly slowly. But I’m not staying here.’
He gave an exasperated growl and pushed himself around to face her. ‘Why are you always so stubborn? What are you trying to prove?’
‘Cicely needs me!’ she shouted at him. ‘She’s out there somewhere, and she’s scared and she’s hurting, and nobody’s going to find her if I-’
