‘Your tree?’ said Abi, stupidly.
‘Yes.’ He smiled and it was bright and cold as the day. ‘Or, to be more accurate, my experiment. From the noise you made just now, I’m guessing you found my other one, too. This is prettier, though, isn’t it?’
He reached out his free hand and fingered the petals thoughtfully.
‘The dead deer,’ said Daisy indignantly. ‘That was you?’
‘Death. Life,’ said Silyen, waggling his finger in his niece’s gummy mouth as she blew bubbles around it. ‘The usual party tricks. Little Libby here was my inspiration, actually. Or rather, her mother was, when Gavar shot her and she died right there in front of us. There was nothing I could do, which was . . . intriguing. I don’t like problems I can’t solve. I’m sure you know what I mean, Abigail.’
It gave Abi the creeps hearing him say her name like that. But the words before it held her attention. Silyen had seen Gavar shoot, and Leah die. It didn’t sound much like a hunting accident.
‘What?’ Daisy had gone alarmingly pink. ‘Not Gavar. He wouldn’t. He loved Libby’s mummy. He’s told me so.’
‘Coming to his defence? Gavar’s way with the ladies is legendary, but I never knew it started so young. Your sister knows I’m telling the truth, though.’
‘Abi?’ Daisy was shrill.
Abi gritted her teeth. She had wanted to introduce her sister gently to the idea that Gavar Jardine might not be a hero. Not with this shocking knowledge. Daisy hadn’t even known he was involved in Libby’s mother’s death – let alone Silyen’s rather more dramatic version of events.
‘We’ll discuss it later,’ she said. ‘We were just heading back, anyway. So if you’ll excuse us, Master Silyen.’
She ducked her head and made to pull Daisy away, but Silyen Jardine wasn’t done with them yet.
‘Tell me,’ he said, withdrawing his finger from Libby’s grasp and eyeing her speculatively. ‘Does she ever do anything . . . special? Unusual?’
‘Skillful, you mean?’ said Daisy. ‘No. She’s just a baby.’
‘Oh, that doesn’t stop us.’ He smiled. ‘If anything, babies’ Skill is much more noticeable, because it’s more uncontrolled. Apparently Gavar used to shatter plates if our mother tried to feed him anything other than mashed banana. Twenty-three years and he’s barely changed.’
‘I don’t believe a word you say about him,’ said Daisy. ‘You’re just jealous because he’s the heir.’
Please, thought Abi. Please, let us just get out of these woods in one piece, away from dead animals, Silyen Jardine’s party tricks and Daisy’s lack of any self-preservation instincts whatsoever.
But Silyen merely shrugged and turned away, his gaze returning to the tree. He reached out to a branch and shook it, just as Daisy had done, and watched the petals shower to the ground. He frowned.
He removed his hand but the petals kept falling, faster and faster, whole flowers dropping off, entire and perfect, until all three of them stood ankle deep. The scent rose up from the woodland floor in an overpowering wave of sweetness. On the branches, green shoots appeared, pushed out and unfurled. Soon the tree was covered in leaves, as thick and full as the flowers had been. Despite her desire to flee just moments before, Abi was fixed to the spot as if she’d put down roots herself.
The leaves began to curl up. The tree lost its vibrancy as they shrivelled; yellowed; fell. Dead leaves piled on top of the flowers.
Soon the tree was entirely bare. Black and skeletal, it reached long fingers down to the ground to trail sadly among its fallen beauty and vigour, as if yearning to gather it all back in again.
Silyen Jardine said nothing. Daisy said nothing. Baby Libby kicked her legs and gurgled.
Silyen cocked his head, as if listening for something.
‘My father and brother are back,’ he said, turning to them. ‘Gavar’s desperate to see his daughter again. He’ll come straight to you. It’d be better if he didn’t find you with me. That’s the most direct way out.’
He pointed across the glade, indicating a route between two great oak trees. Neither of them needed telling twice.
Daisy set off at a pace, early fallen acorns crunching under her feet and Libby’s soft booted heels knocking against her middle. Abi followed. She didn’t look round, not at the Young Master, the dead cherry tree, or the woods beyond where the deer lay lifeless and still. She emerged from the treeline blinking in the full glare of the sunshine. Her heart was pounding, as if she’d just had a narrow escape, though from what exactly she couldn’t have said.
When they were past the temple grotto, Abi heard the faint roar of a motorbike. Daisy clapped her hands with excitement and Abi cringed. She never knew people actually did that.
More to the point, how could Daisy still be so stoked to see Gavar, now she knew what had happened to Libby’s poor mother?