Miss Landon and Aubranael

Part 29

Aubranael turned Hidenory over to Balligumph, with a quick recital of everything he had learned, and then turned his attention to Grunewald with a quizzical smile.

'I was asked to come,' said Grunewald in answer to his unspoken question.

'Are you here to help us?' said Aubranael. He found that difficult to believe: Grunewald had made it very clear that he had no desire to help Aubranael any further at all.

But Grunewald nodded once, and smiled. 'To be precise, I intend to begin by paying my very particular compliments to the lady.' He rose and did so, bowing over Hidenory's withered hands and murmuring something about excellent scheme and admirable wits and congratulate you most sincerely.

Hidenory smiled in triumph. 'I knew you would appreciate the scheme,' she said proudly.

But Grunewald's tone turned gently chiding as he said: 'But it is a trifle outrageous, do not you think? I cannot help being mildly discontented with you, my dear. This young man is quite a delicate flower, you understand. He could never keep up with you.'

Aubranael bridled at that, but he stopped himself from raising any objection. Grunewald's observation was not entirely unfair, and besides, he appeared to be working his way around to declaring himself on Miss Landon's side.

Hidenory realised the same thing, for she glared at Grunewald and snatched back her hands. 'You admire my cunning but you will devote your own to undoing all my fine work? Ah! Treacherous indeed.'

'You will have heard the adage,' Grunewald said smoothly. 'Never trust the Goblin King, eh? But no matter. This is how the game proceeds, is it not? It is all a matter of wit and counter-wit. You have played your very best pieces, and now we will play ours. And may the best goblin win.'

'Much as I appreciate the prospect of receiving your help,' Aubranael said, 'I cannot understand you. Yesterday you swore you'd had done with me.'

Grunewald turned his glittering green gaze upon Aubranael. 'Not at all, my dear fellow. I merely refused to give you the specific type of help you were requesting.'

'And you warned me not to place myself too far in your debt,' Aubranael reminded him. 'Does that no longer stand?'

'Oh, it does. But,' he said gently, 'has it not occurred to you, dear Aubranael, that this matter is somewhat larger than you and your romantic affairs?'

Aubranael blinked. 'I do not understand you,' he repeated.

'That is very evident. But do not let it concern you. I am here on Mr. Balligumph's request, and so it has nothing at all to do with you.'

Silenced, Aubranael felt a little injured by this cold statement. Then he realised that he would benefit from Grunewald's help in finding Sophy, but without being considered to be any further in debt to the Goblin King himself. He swallowed his feelings of affront—if he had come to think of the Goblin King as a friend, he was indeed a fool—and nodded.

'But,' he said, frowning, 'how do you know what any of this is about?'

'I do not know, for certain,' Grunewald said, with a sideways glance at Hidenory. 'But the common thread to all your various little tales is the cat. Felebre. And that may be far more significant than you know.'

That silenced Aubranael altogether. Felebre? His friend and companion? The cat had always been enigmatic, but Aubranael had never doubted that she was much as she appeared to be. A cat. One who enjoyed the hunt and the chase, and who did not shun him because his face was unsightly.

But it had been Felebre who had guided him to Hidenory, he remembered. How else had the cat been involved, and what did it mean?

'Very well, now,' said Balligumph, interrupting his train of thought. The troll had hitherto watched the proceedings with great interest but without making any attempt to intervene. Now he stood up and clapped his hands together, instantly focusing everyone's attention upon him. 'Who is to come along to the Outwoods?'

Everybody volunteered without hesitation, excepting Hidenory and Grunewald.

'Ye'll come along too, miss,' said Balligumph, eyeing Hidenory with a glimmer of fury in his bright blue eyes.

Hidenory waved a hand dismissively.

'An' what of His Majesty?' said Balligumph, looking at Grunewald.

'I can do a little better than that, I believe.' Grunewald produced a gleaming silver horn from somewhere, put it to his lips, and blew a long note. The sound was so loud Aubranael was forced to cover his ears; even then the noise beat down upon him, a riotous racket comprising the mingled notes of thousands of horns blown at once. Finally the notes died away, leaving silence.

Balligumph nodded approvingly, and Hidenory began to look afraid. Miss Daverill and Miss Ellerby were standing as far from the troll as they could, Aubranael noticed, and now they began to back away from Grunewald as well. Poor Mary looked terrified but grimly resolved; she had Thundigle at her knee, patting her leg to comfort her. Mr. Ellerby was keeping up a protective stance over the entire group.

Would this curious mix of company be enough to find Sophy, he wondered, and to rescue her from any dangerous predicament she might be in? He could only hope so.

Then the wind began to blow. It was a harsh, cold wind, utterly unsuited to the warmth of an afternoon in June, and it brought with it the distant howling of hounds.

Aubranael stared at Grunewald, awed and afraid. Could it be... had he just...?

He did not have time to complete these fragmented thoughts, for a terrific gust of wind threatened to knock him off his feet. He saw it then, approaching from across the fields: the Goblin Hunt. Borne by the wind, they came: a sea of hounds, ghostly and insubstantial, galloping through the air at full tilt and baying for blood. Suddenly he was surrounded by the dizzying whirlwind of the Hunt; ghostly shapes swirled and danced around him with appalling speed, bringing a wind cold enough to chill him to the bone. Each hound bore an insubstantial goblin upon its back, and each rider bore a raised spear or a knife or a garden rake—anything at all, it seemed, so long as it could be enthusiastically brandished.

Grunewald shouted something over the wind. It was in a language Aubranael could not understand, but it brought the Hunt into a knot gathered tightly around the Goblin King and Hidenory. Grunewald shouted something else, and abruptly the Hunt wheeled and galloped away.

'Follow them, then!' hollered Balligumph. 'An' be quick, now, or ye'll be left behind!'

A flood of energy rushed through Aubranael, strengthening his tired limbs and clearing his mind. He remembered the day he had met Miss Landon: he had been running through Grenlowe in pursuit of Felebre, and he had almost knocked Sophy down.

Well: to run swift and sure was something that he knew how to do. He would do it again, and if he was lucky, he would find Miss Landon once more.