Read Online Swift by R. J. Anderson - Free Book Online

His head drooped, and he muttered, ‘ No. Yes. I am: Then fly… ’
    If only she could. ‘I’m not here to play riddle-games,’ said Ivy. Had he lost his wits? ‘Did you or did you not kill Keeve?’
    A long pause, while the spriggan watched her sidelong out of one grey eye. ‘ I am a villain ,’ he said at last, then added quickly as Ivy tensed: ‘ Yet I lie. I am not. ’
    ‘Stop talking nonsense and tell me the truth, then!’
    The spriggan leaned against the wall, his distorted mouth closing tight. He did not reply.
    Had she been too harsh with him? Would he refuse to say any more? Ivy took a step forward – though not too close, since she had no desire to feel those fingers around her neck. Then she said gently, ‘You want light, don’t you?’
    His breath caught, just the briefest hitch, but it was as good as an answer. ‘I’ll give it to you,’ Ivy said, ‘if you answer some questions for me.’
    She waited, but the spriggan didn’t respond. Did he not believe her? Or was he too slurry-brained to understand?
    Ivy increased her glow a little, hoping to tempt him. ‘See?’ she said. ‘I’ll give you more, if you’ll tell me what you did with Keeve. And even more than that, if you can tell me what happened to my mother. She was beautiful, with light brown hair, and her wings…’
    What had Marigold’s wings been like? She couldn’t remember. Ivy cleared her throat and went on, ‘Anyway, she disappeared five years ago. Did you spriggans take her? Is she still alive?’
    The prisoner raised his head to hers, lips parting as though to speak. But then his chin dropped and he looked away.
    Ivy threw up her hands. ‘This is useless.’ The stench that hung around him was making her queasy, and she was tired of looking at those hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. The spriggan was either delirious or mad or both, and she wished that she had never come. ‘I give up. You can stay here and rot for all I care.’ Defiantly flaring brighter so he’d never forget what he’d missed, she turned and strode away.
    ‘ Ivy .’
    Startled, she looked back to find the spriggan stretching out his one good hand. ‘Don’t go,’ he said, and now his voice sounded ordinary, the formal cadences lost. ‘I didn’t know… I couldn’t be sure it was you, until now.’
    Was he trying to make her pity him? If so, it wasn’t going to work. And she wasn’t going to ask again how he knew her name, either – he’d probably just overheard it, back at the Lighting. Ivy tapped her foot. ‘Well?’
    ‘I didn’t kill Keeve.’ He rubbed his temple, as though concentrating were an effort. ‘I don’t know where he is.’
    ‘But you were there, the night he disappeared,’ Ivy said. ‘Who else could have taken him?’
    ‘I have no idea. But it wasn’t me.’
    ‘Why didn’t you say that to the Joan, then?’ Ivy asked. ‘Did you think she wouldn’t believe you?’
    ‘I had to give her some reason to keep me alive,’ he said. ‘Until I could talk to you.’
    ‘Me?’ Ivy was startled. ‘Why?’
    The spriggan straightened, brushing the sweat-darkened hair from his brow. ‘Because,’ he said, ‘your mother sent me to find you. She’s alive, and safe. And if you let me go…I’ll take you to her.’

four
     
    Ivy stood still, wide green eyes fixed on the spriggan. For a moment there was no sound except the slow drip of water down the Great Shaft and the creature’s laboured breathing. Then she said in a strangled voice, ‘You’re lying.’ She didn’t even know if spriggans could lie, but what other explanation could there be?
    ‘I’m not lying.’
    ‘Yes, you are.’ She spoke quickly, almost gabbling in her panic. She had to stop this before it got out of hand – before she was tempted to believe him. ‘You heard me say I was looking for my mother, and now you’re using that to try and trick me—’
    ‘Her name is Marigold.’
    His quiet certainty shook her, but Ivy wasn’t about to give in. There