Ben stared at the cat. “How do you know all this?”
“A good nose,” Dirk advised disdainfully. “You should cultivate one. It can tell you all sorts of things you would miss otherwise. My nose tells me what your eyes cannot tell you.”
Ben moved over and hunched down in front of the cat, ignoring the water that dripped off the pine’s branches and ran down his face in steady streams. “Does your nose tell you where she has gone now?” he asked quietly.
“No,” the cat answered.
“No?”
“You are repeating me without need,” Dirk sniffed.
“But if your nose told you all the rest, why can’t it tell you that?” Ben demanded. “Is your nose always this selective?”
“Sarcasm does not become you, High Lord,” Dirk admonished, head cocking slightly. “Besides, I deserve better than that. I am, after all, your sole companion and supporter in this venture.”
“Which needs some explaining, I might point out,” Ben snapped. “You persist in taunting me with what you know, then tell me only what you wish. I realize that you have a perfectly good excuse for this behavior, being a cat, but I hope I can impress on you how aggravating it is to me!” His temper was getting the better of him, and his voice was rising. “I simply asked how you could determine that Willow was here, that her mother danced, that she transformed, and yet not be able to tell me where…”
“I don’t know.”
“…she might have gone after leaving… What? You don’t know? You don’t know what?”
“I don’t know why I don’t know.”
Ben stared once more.
“I should be able to read her passing from the clearing, but I can’t,” Dirk finished calmly. “It is almost as if it was deliberately hidden.”
Ben took a moment to consider this new piece of information, then shook his head. “But why would she hide where she was going?”
Dirk did not answer. Instead, he hissed softly in warning and rose to his feet once more. Ben stood up with him and turned. The River Master’s dark figure reappeared from out of the mist, striding the length of the clearing to where Ben waited. He was alone.
“Has Willow been here?” he asked abruptly.
Ben hesitated, then nodded. “Been and gone. The cat says her mother danced for her two nights ago.”
There was anger reflected in the eyes of the water sprite, but he smoothed it away quickly. “She would appear to her daughter, of course,” he murmured. “They share that bond. The dance would reveal truth in the fairy way, would show what was sought…” He trailed off, as if thinking of something else, then straightened. “Have you determined where she has gone, High Lord?”
Again Ben hesitated, this time as much in surprise as out of caution. The River Master had called him High Lord. Had he now decided to accept Ben’s claim? Ben met his steady gaze. “Her trail has been concealed from us,” he said. “Hidden deliberately, the cat thinks.”
The River Master glanced briefly at Dirk, frowning. “Perhaps.” His chiseled face swung back on Ben. “But my daughter lacks the guile and her mother the means. The concealment, if there be one, comes from another source. There are some who would help her and not tell me. There are some.” The anger in his eyes flared anew, then was gone. “Still, it hardly matters. I have the means to find her anyway. And anything else I wish.”
Abruptly he turned, muttering. “Time slips away. The rain and the dark will hamper my efforts as it is. I must act quickly if I am to be effective.” There was an urgency in his voice — and a determination. “I will not have these games played behind my back. I will know the meaning of the dream of the black unicorn and the golden bridle and I will know it whether Willow and her mother wish me to or not!”
He disappeared back into the forest in a rush, not bothering to see if Ben was following. He needn’t have worried. Ben was right on his heels.
Edgewood Dirk stayed beneath the pine boughs and watched them go. After a moment, he began to clean himself.