The smile returned again, slow and hard. “And I did break the spell finally. I shattered it and turned back again. Too late, though, play-King, much too late — for I was already within the fairy mists and there was damage done to me! I hurt as never before; I was scarred by the pain of it! I escaped with my life and little else. It took me months to regain even the smallest part of my magic, I lay within the swamp, a creature in hiding, as helpless as the smallest reptile! I was broken! But I would not give in to the pain and the fear; I thought only of you. I thought only of what I would do to you once I had you in my hands again. And I knew that one day I would find a way to bring you back to me…”
She paused. “But I never dreamed it would happen so soon, my foolish High Lord. What great good fortune! It was the change that brought you to me, wasn’t it? Something about the change — but what? Tell me, play-King. I will have it from you anyway.”
Ben knew this was so. There was no sense in trying to keep anything from the witch. He could see in the empty green eyes what was in store for him. Talking was the only thing that was keeping him alive, and as long as he was alive he had a chance. Chances at this point were not to be tossed aside lightly.
“I came looking for Willow,” he answered, pushing the gnomes behind him now. He wanted them out of the way — just in case. He had to keep his eyes open for the right opportunity. The gnomes, however, continued to cling to him like Velcro.
“The River Master’s daughter? The sylph?” Nightshade’s look was questioning. “Why would she come here?”
“You haven’t seen her?” Ben asked, surprised.
Nightshade smiled unpleasantly. “No, play-King. I have seen no one but you — you and your foolish burrow people. What would the sylph want with me?”
He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “The golden bridle.”
There, it was out. Better to tell her and see if he could learn anything than to play it cute. Fencing with Nightshade was too dangerous.
Nightshade looked genuinely surprised. “The bridle? But why?”
“Because Meeks wants it. Because he sent Willow a dream about the bridle and a black unicorn.” Quickly he told the witch the story of Willow’s dream and of the sylph’s decision to try to learn what she could of the bridle. “She was told that the bridle was here in the Deep Fell.” He paused. “She should have arrived here ahead of me.”
“A pity she didn’t,” Nightshade replied. “I like her little better than I like you. Destroying her would have given me almost as much satisfaction as destroying you.” She paused, thinking. “The black unicorn, is it? Back again? How interesting. And the bridle can hold it fast, the dream says? Yes, that could be possible. After all, it was created by wizard magic. And it was a wizard I stole it from years back…”
Nightshade laughed. She studied him, a cunning look creeping into her eyes. “These pathetic burrow people who belong to you — were they sent to steal the bridle from me?”
Fillip and Sot were trying to crawl inside Ben’s skin, but Ben was barely aware of them. He was thinking of something else altogether. If Meeks had once possessed the bridle, then that meant the wizard probably once used it — might even have used it to hold captive the black unicorn. Had the unicorn somehow escaped then? Was the dream Meeks had sent to Willow designed to regain possession of the bridle so that the unicorn could be recaptured? If so, what did the unicorns in the missing books of magic have to do with…
“Do not bother answering, play-King,” Nightshade interrupted his thoughts. “The answer is in your eyes. These foolish rodents crept into the Deep Fell for just that reason, didn’t they? Crept into my home like the thieves they are? Crept down on their little cat’s paws?”