Even Delphinea understood his dilemma. He likely was outranked by whoever led the guards. To defy to open the gates was treason. To disobey Finuviel’s orders to defend his mother offended honor.
For a long moment no one spoke. Then Petri hissed from the door and he scrabbled forward, his eyes cast low, his tail tucked under in perfect obeisance. In a series of quick gestures, accompanied by a few stifled hisses, he motioned, I can help you find him, great lady.
Vinaver’s eyes narrowed and she looked down at the cringing gremlin, and then up at Delphinea. “The removal of the Caul from the moonstone must’ve made it possible for him to leave.”
Petri’s eyes were huge, and he looked up at Delphinea with flared nostrils. I can help you find him, lady. I know the way through Shadow. I can find him. And the Caul.
“Petri says he can help me find Finuviel.” Delphinea clasped his hand in both of hers. The thought that she should be the one to look for Finuviel jolted her into the realization of exactly how dire the situation was.
At once Dougal shifted on his feet, crossing and uncrossing his arms. “I don’t like that idea. There’s a saying, never a trust a trixie.”
“What about the knights, my lady? They’ve orders to burn the Forest House if we don’t open the gates.” Ethoniel broke in, desperation clear.
Vinaver moved her head restlessly on the pillow. “We have to find Finuviel. We’re running out of time. The Caul must be unMade before Mid-Winter.”
“I suppose I’m the one that’s seen him last,” said Dougal. “With Cadwyr. That night at my forge.”
Beside Delphinea, Petri tugged on her hand. I can help you, lady. Please, lady, I can help you find the Caul. I can find the mortal Duke. I can find the Caul. I brought you here. He stepped in front of Vinaver and groveled before her. Please, great lady. You know how we, too, are bound to the Caul. It calls to me from Shadow, even now.
“Let me go find him,” Dougal said suddenly.
Vinaver replied with an arch look, “That’s not exactly our bargain, is it, Master Smith?”
“Do you want your son and the Caul found or not? I’m the last who saw him, I know who he was with. Who else do you have who knows Brynhyvar the way I do?”
I know it better than any mortal—I know the Underneath and the In-between. I can take her through the Mother-Wood. Petri quivered, his hands knotted tightly together. “Forgive me, gentle folk, if my unkind voice offends,” he said in his high-pitched strangled shriek. “But I remember—I can lead—let me—let me—”
“Be quiet,” interrupted Vinaver. “Be still, khouri-kan.”
“Delphinea can’t go,” broke in Ethoniel. “They’re here to take her as well.”
“But I’m the one who discovered the Caul was missing,” Delphinea exclaimed. “But for me—”
“But for you, the plan might have proceeded apace, without anyone at Court ever knowing,” Vinaver cut her off with a savagery belied by her appearance.
“Then let me go,” said Delphinea, looking down at Petri, who squeezed her hand and bowed gravely.
“I should be the one to go,” insisted Dougal.
“You cannot go, Master Dougal. You’ve a bargain to fulfill. Don’t you?”
Dougal shut his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest. “What exactly are you thinking, Vinaver? Surely this child isn’t—”
“I am not a child,” said Delphinea. “I may appear young in mortal years, but I have known far more seasons than you, Master Smith. I can find him. I know I can. Petri will help.” She squeezed his shoulder and Petri bowed.
“There you are, Master Dougal. Delphinea has certain advantages—”
“She may have certain advantages from your point of view, but—”
“My lady Vinaver, master mortal, with all due respect, you’ve no time to continue to debate this,” interrupted Ethoniel. “I need an answer, my lady. What shall I do?”
“Open the gates, Captain. I’m in no condition to travel. They may see for themselves if they wish. And no one can make me leave until I am satisfied my son does not lie among that host. Is that acceptable? Does it satisfy both the bonds of honor and command? All I ask is a delay—long enough for Delphinea to cross into Shadow—Leonine, fetch my cloak of shadows.”
As the attendant left the room, Ethoniel hesitated. “There’s nothing more I’d like to do, my lady. But they’ll expect to see the two—”
“Then give them me as well,” said Dougal.
Ethoniel covered his mouth and coughed, then smiled as one might at a well-trained hound. “Unfortunately, master mortal, you and the lady Delphinea bear only the slightest resemblance to each other. Unless you’ve not noticed.”
“Put a cloak on me and let me pretend to be Vinaver. They expect Vinaver to be tall—they don’t know she lost the wings. She’s a tiny thing now—let her lie on her bed and pretend to be the sidhe-leen. What do you say, Captain? Demand they search the field for Finuviel. And unless you’ve a better idea as to how to rig some on that maid there—” He jerked his head as Leonine stepped into the room, carrying a thick, dark cloak. “I’m about as tall as Vinaver’s wings were. Unless you’ve not noticed.”
I shall lead you, lady. Petri smiled up at her and stroked Delphinea’s hand. He rubbed his cheek against the back of it as Dougal frowned.
“Is there no one else to take her?” asked Dougal. “I don’t like the thought of that at all.”
“Why not?” asked Delphinea. “Petri’s been my friend.”
But Vinaver was looking up at Dougal with weary acknowledgment. “You’re right, Master Dougal, there are reasons not to trust the khouri, or trixie, as you call him. But the khouri’s correct. He is bound to the Caul. And Shadow is his native element. So long as the Caul lasts, his power is largely bound to it. I believe him when he says he can find it.”
“And what if Finuviel and the Caul aren’t in the same place?”
But cries echoing up the great stair forestalled Vinaver’s answer.
“Captain Ethoniel, you must come!”
“Are we to open the gates, Captain?”
“Captain, come now!”
The voices were closer now, accompanied by the patter of booted feet on the polished stair.
“Open the gates, Captain. But hold them in the courtyard,” said Vinaver. “Come, child, let Leonine put the cloak on you.”
Before Delphinea could agree, the other woman settled the dark cloak over her shoulders. It was a color between dark purple and black, the color of the indigo night sky, and it was soft and thick and silky all at once. “What stuff is this cloak made of?” she asked as she spread it wide. It fell in rich dark ripples, as if it absorbed the light, rather than reflected it.
“Faerie silk, and the shadows of Shadow,” said Vinaver. “There are only two, and how they came to be, I don’t have time to tell you. Finuviel had one. Now you have the other.”
“What does it do?” asked Delphinea, turning this way