11
‘We need to go back to the Elvyngs,’ I said to Jay perhaps half an hour later, when we were once more on the right side — the human side — of the boundary between Yorkshire and Aylligranir. ‘Bet you a year’s salary Cicily had some moonsilver paraphernalia from her father, and another year’s salary the Elvyngs have hung onto it.’
‘No bet,’ said Jay. ‘It’s too obvious.’
He offered nothing else, only walked along beside me, collar turned up against the drizzle of summer rain that now watered the hillside. He’d been quiet ever since our first introduction to the queen, and remained so now.
I’d had to wrestle with myself. I’d been so tempted to excuse myself on some small pretext, dash back to the library and find out who Jay’s Yllanfalen grandfather was. I told myself I’d be doing it fo
