“When we arrive, we’ll find our way to Mr.Beckett’s office. I will talk to him, appeal to his sense of duty and kindness, if he has one. But I feel that we should be prepared to take the key and run.”
“Do not fuss. I have Mickelwaithe on call, should anything disastrous happen.” Thornwood patted his suit pocket.
Mouse stared, alarmed. “You didn’t pack him like a handkerchief, did you?”
“Of course not. I can summon him with this.” He produced an acorn from the pocket. “If I rub the cap, he will appear.”
She eyed the acorn. “And you’re sure that this is going to work?”
“Certain,” he said.
At the third stop, a meek woman shrugged her way into the compartment. Her luggage was nearly as large as she was. To Mouse’s amazement, Thornwood offered to place the woman’s handbag on the shelf above her. When he caught Mouse staring, he turned back to the newspaper in a huff. Five minutes down the track, the woman slumped back against her seat, asleep.
To calm her trembling hands, Mouse produced a deck of cards from her handbag. Intricately woven butterfly wings decorated the back of the cards. The foil glinted in the low lights of the compartment and the shadows of the passing trees.
She laid out a game of solitaire, watching from the corner of her eye as Thornwood attempted to restrain his curiosity. Mouse finishedher second game, reshuffling the cards. The newspaper lay abandoned at his side.
“Would you like to play?” Mouse asked.
“I do not know the rules,” he said, looking over the formation. “Is it a fortune-telling game?”
Mouse laughed. “Nothing that complicated, but this is a solitary game. We could play Kings in the Corner, if you’re up to learning.”
He nodded. Mouse explained the rules, and much to her annoyance, he caught on quickly. She squeaked by in the first game, but the next two fell to Thornwood.
“Are all Faeries as good at games as you?” she asked after losing for the third time in a row. Thornwood looked at the old woman, still sleeping, before shuffling the cards.
In his hands, the cards danced. They performed flips and twirled, floating from one palm back to the other.
“We all have our talents, but I will say that most of us are adept at games.”
“Do you train from an early age at strategy? Chess tournaments in the nursery?” Mouse asked archly.
“You are teasing, but yes. Perhaps not in the nursery, but in court, it is evident that you cannot survive without learning some strategy.”
“Speaking of strategy, we need to think of a plan. It won’t be easy to convince Beckett to give me the key.” As she spoke, Thornwood went very still. “What is it?”
“We could make a bargain,” he said.
An electric pulse went through Mouse’s body. Slowly, she laid her palms in her lap. “What would that entail?”
“I could grant you some powers of persuasion. But, before you ask, it would not grant you full control over Beckett’s mind. There is also a time limit; the magic only lasts a few hours, but it might give you enough of an edge to convince him to give you the key.”
“And what would I need to exchange for this persuasion power?”
“Your eye,” he said without hesitation.
Mouse stared at him, stunned. Finally, she spoke. “A pinky finger for a house, but an eye for a few hours of persuasion?”
“Using magic to manipulate a living thing takes much more energy than using it against something inanimate.” He held up his hand to stop her before she cut in. “Think of it as though I am borrowing your eye for as long as the enchantment holds. A precaution, so I can watch what is happening between you and the solicitor.”
“You would not misuse my eye?” Mouse asked, teetering on the edge of self-disgust. Once she had been so scornful of those who bargained with Faeries, and here she was, seriously considering a second deal.
Thornwood laid a hand over his heart. When he spoke, his words and tone were solemn. “I promise I will not misuse it.”
She swallowed, looking down at her hands. “And it will not be permanent, like my finger?”
“No, I will only take it for as long as you need to use my persuasion spell.”