R. Anderson - Swift

At once the piskeys scattered, abandoning half-finished plates and cups of wine, gaming boards, musical instruments, and even shoes and jackets in their haste. Shouts of ‘Hurry!’ and ‘Watch out!’ rang through the night, as the knockers snatched up their thunder-axes and the hunters drew their knives. Mica grabbed Ivy’s arm and hauled her towards the doorway, but she struggled against his hold, crying, ‘Dad!’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ snapped Mica, giving her a shove. ‘The Joan will look after him. Move!’

Ivy stumbled out onto the hillside, tears burning her eyes. ‘Mum,’ she sobbed, but there was no answer — and though her gorge rose at the thought, she knew why.

Her mother had been taken by the spriggans. one

Five years later

Ivy stood poised on her toes like a dancer, but there was no merriment in her face as she pulled the iron poker from its slot by the hearth and raised it high. A few paces away, a black adder twice her length squirmed across the cavern floor, blood oozing from the gash on the back of its head that should have killed it — but unfortunately, hadn’t.

Why hadn’t Mica cut the snake’s head off before he brought it down from the surface? He’d been hunting for four years now; he should have known better than to assume the adder was dead. But he’d been in such a hurry to get to tonight’s Lighting, he’d merely stuffed his catch into a bag, tossed it through the cavern door and left. And worse, he hadn’t even tied the sack properly, so now Ivy had to finish off the snake herself.

There was no use shouting for help. Not that her neighbours wouldn’t be willing — they’d always been glad to lend a hand whenever Ivy could swallow her pride long enough to ask for it. But by now even the last stragglers had left their caverns and were hurrying towards the surface. In fact, if this wretched snake hadn’t poked its head out as Ivy was getting dressed, she and Cicely would be running right along with them.

‘Oh, Ivy, hurry!’ Her little sister crouched at the edge of her bed-alcove, only her head poking between the curtains. ‘We’re already late!’

‘Stay where you are, Cicely,’ warned Ivy, edging closer to the snake. ‘I’ll be done in a minute.’

Mind calm and hands steady, that was the way. She mustn’t think about what would happen if the snake bit her; she just had to strike as quickly as she could. The wedge-shaped head turned towards her, tongue flickering out to taste the air And with one savage two-handed blow, Ivy smashed the poker down.

The adder’s body whipped into a frenzy, tail lashing around so fast it nearly knocked Ivy off her feet. She leaped backwards, holding the poker ready for another strike. But gradually its convulsions subsided, and Ivy let out her breath. The snake was dead.

‘You can come out now,’ she said to Cicely, dropping the poker with a clang onto the polished granite. The floor was a mess and the adder meat would spoil if she left it sitting, but there was no time to fret about that now. ‘Let me finish getting dressed, and we’ll go.’

‘It’s no use,’ moaned Cicely, knuckling her eyes. ‘We’ll never get through all those tunnels in time.’

‘We’re not going through the tunnels,’ Ivy said, pulling up her breeches. The dress she’d been working on for months still lay across the foot of her bed, but she could hardly climb in that. ‘I know a faster way. Come on.’

‘ Please hurry!’ Cicely hovered next to Ivy, her dappled wings fluttering with agitation. ‘They’ll be lighting the wakefire any minute, and Jenny says it’s the best part!’

Ivy dug her fingers into the next handhold, hauling herself up the side of the Great Shaft with stubborn will. She didn’t pause to explain that she was already climbing as fast as she could; excuses were for the lazy, or so Aunt Betony always said.

Though if it hadn’t been for Mica’s carelessness, she’d have got Cicely to her first Lighting in plenty of time and found her a good seat into the bargain… But if dwelling on what should have happened made any difference, Ivy would have sprouted wings long ago. She set her jaw and kept climbing.

‘Oh, it’s not fair,’ wailed Cicely, as sounds of music and laughter drifted down from above. ‘Ivy, let me go ahead, I don’t need a light, there’s plenty of room-’

‘You can’t fly the Shaft blind,’ said Ivy firmly. True, compared to the piskeys’ own neat tunnels the Great Shaft was enormous. But there was a cap of concrete and metal over the top, and if Cicely didn’t see it coming she’d knock herself senseless. ‘When you’ve got your own glow, you can go ahead if you want. But right now, you stay with me.’

Cicely whimpered, but made no further protest. Ivy reached for a grip and pulled herself up again, her muscles trembling with the effort. By rights she shouldn’t be climbing the Great Shaft at all, and if anyone found out she’d be in serious trouble. It would have been safer to go through the tunnels — but that would have taken twice as long, even if she and Cicely were running. And besides, it gave Ivy a private thrill to know that she alone, of all the piskeys in the Delve, could climb like this.

At last her groping fingers brushed wood, slimy and rough with age. She had reached the old ladder. Ivy hooked one arm over the bottom rung and gazed up at the half-rotted wood and rusted metal before her, chewing her lip in consideration. Once this ladder had carried human miners down the shaft to their day’s work. Then the tin mine had closed, and its shafts were caged off to keep careless humans from falling in. Now and then some idle passer-by shoved a stick or a stone between the bars and let it drop, but apart from that no one had touched this ladder in well over a century. She’d have to make herself human size to climb it, but would it hold her weight?

Well, she’d soon find out. Ivy took a deep breath and willed herself to grow.

It would have been easier if she’d practised first. The shift in size threw her off balance, and she grabbed the next rung just in time. But she had no time to waste on panic. The moment her body stopped tingling she was on the move, scrambling for the top of the shaft. ‘We’re nearly there,’ she gasped to Cicely. ‘It’s not too-’

‘All hail Joan the Wad!’ came a muffled shout from above them, and the top of the shaft flared with golden light. Cicely’s face crumpled. ‘We missed it.’

Guilt and frustration tumbled like rocks in Ivy’s stomach. She’d done her best, but it hadn’t been good enough. There’d be another Lighting at midwinter, but what consolation was that to Cicely now? And as usual Mica was to blame but he’d never admit it, and Cicely would never dream of reproaching him. Not the older brother who brought her berries and bits of honeycomb, and gave her piskey-back rides around the cavern. In Cicely’s eyes, Mica could do no wrong.

‘Well,’ said Ivy, and then she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She reached for the next rung, and continued climbing towards the surface.

‘People of the Delve, be welcome,’ Betony declared, with a disapproving glance at Ivy and Cicely as they crept to a seat at the back of the crowd. She took the copper bowl from Nettle’s hands and raised it high, so that everyone around the wakefire could see it.

‘This is the draught of harmony,’ she declared. ‘Let us drink and be one in heart, proud of our heritage and true to our ancient ways, so that enemies can never divide us. A blessing on the Delve, and a curse on faeries and spriggans!’

‘A curse on the spriggans!’ the others chorused — and Ivy loudest of all. The very mention of those filthy creatures made her burn inside, an old ember of rage and bitterness that would never go out. First they had taken her mother from her, and if that weren’t bad enough, they had stolen her father as well.