Gilded Cage (Dark Gifts #1)(30)

‘I don’t believe a word you say about him,’ said Daisy. ‘You’re just jealous because he’s the heir.’

Please, thought Abi. Please, let us just get out of these woods in one piece, away from dead animals, Silyen Jardine’s party tricks and Daisy’s lack of any self-preservation instincts whatsoever.

But Silyen merely shrugged and turned away, his gaze returning to the tree. He reached out to a branch and shook it, just as Daisy had done, and watched the petals shower to the ground. He frowned.

He removed his hand but the petals kept falling, faster and faster, whole flowers dropping off, entire and perfect, until all three of them stood ankle deep. The scent rose up from the woodland floor in an overpowering wave of sweetness. On the branches, green shoots appeared, pushed out and unfurled. Soon the tree was covered in leaves, as thick and full as the flowers had been. Despite her desire to flee just moments before, Abi was fixed to the spot as if she’d put down roots herself.

The leaves began to curl up. The tree lost its vibrancy as they shrivelled; yellowed; fell. Dead leaves piled on top of the flowers.

Soon the tree was entirely bare. Black and skeletal, it reached long fingers down to the ground to trail sadly among its fallen beauty and vigour, as if yearning to gather it all back in again.

Silyen Jardine said nothing. Daisy said nothing. Baby Libby kicked her legs and gurgled.

Silyen cocked his head, as if listening for something.

‘My father and brother are back,’ he said, turning to them. ‘Gavar’s desperate to see his daughter again. He’ll come straight to you. It’d be better if he didn’t find you with me. That’s the most direct way out.’

He pointed across the glade, indicating a route between two great oak trees. Neither of them needed telling twice.

Daisy set off at a pace, early fallen acorns crunching under her feet and Libby’s soft booted heels knocking against her middle. Abi followed. She didn’t look round, not at the Young Master, the dead cherry tree, or the woods beyond where the deer lay lifeless and still. She emerged from the treeline blinking in the full glare of the sunshine. Her heart was pounding, as if she’d just had a narrow escape, though from what exactly she couldn’t have said.

When they were past the temple grotto, Abi heard the faint roar of a motorbike. Daisy clapped her hands with excitement and Abi cringed. She never knew people actually did that.

More to the point, how could Daisy still be so stoked to see Gavar, now she knew what had happened to Libby’s poor mother?

The bike surged into view and slashed to a halt, gouging grass into mud. The heir kicked his bike to a stand and hurried over.

‘You’re a long way from the house,’ he said to Daisy sternly. Abi might as well not have been there.

Gavar wore the fierce expression that made house-slaves wet themselves in terror, but her little sister simply grinned.

‘We’re wrapped up warm and have everything we need,’ she told him, undoing the clasps on the harness and handing Libby to her father. Gavar doted on the baby for a few moments, rubbing her nose against his and making her laugh. Then he looked at Daisy and his expression was almost gentle.

‘I missed her while I was away,’ he said. ‘But I knew she’d be safe with you. Let’s go sit by the lake and you can tell me what you’ve been up to.’

He tucked Libby against his chest and laid a hand on Daisy’s shoulder, steering her towards a bench by the water’s edge.

‘You,’ he said, over his shoulder, not bothering to look. ‘Get the bike to the garage.’

Abi scowled as he walked off, secure in the knowledge that whatever else Skill did, it didn’t give you eyes in the back of your head.

The bike was a nightmare, an incomprehensible lump of metal reeking of petrol and hot leather. She didn’t have a clue how to get it moving. Luke would have known.

‘Brilliant idea!’ she heard Daisy sigh, with dreamy approval.

Abi turned to see what Gavar the Marvellous was doing now. On the lake a long, shallow keelboat was gliding across the water. On the far shore, the doors of the boathouse where it was usually kept stood open. The oars were shipped, lying inside along the length of the hull. There was no one in the boat and no visible means of propulsion. It was heading straight to where Daisy, Gavar and the baby were sat, as if drawn on a string like a toy.

Held upright by her father, Libby kneaded her small feet into his thigh and smacked her hands together.

The boat made a faint plashing noise as it moved smoothly forward. Disturbed, a moorhen gargled and scudded away. Everything else was quiet and still. So Abi heard Heir Gavar’s next words very distinctly.

‘I’m not doing anything.’

Abi stiffened, one hand clenched uselessly around the bike’s handlebars. She scanned the wood’s edge for any sign of Silyen. She couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there, plotting mischief. There were only rooks, circling.

The prow thudded softly into the bank, right in front of the bench. There was a faint clatter of wood as the oars rolled with the impact. Then the boat swung until the whole length of it rested alongside the bank.

It was possible – just – that the boat might have slipped its mooring in the boathouse and drifted across the lake. But this movement was unnatural. Deliberate.

Abi heard Gavar’s next words, full of wonder and pride – and just a touch of disbelief.