Page 76 of Charmless
“He obfuscated with me.”
Delphine gasped, her astonishing hair fading to a shade of deep green. She moistened her lips, her expression an odd mingling of envy and longing. Leaning closer, she asked in a low, confidential tone, “So how was it? I mean, wasn’t it good for you? I have heard that Mal has exceptional skills in the boudoir and?—”
“Oh, for frap’s sake, Delphine.” I reared back from her, rolling my eyes in disgust. “Obfuscated!It means to confuse or deceive. Mal lied to me.”
“Oh!” She rocked back on her heels, her lips curving in a somewhat sheepish smile. “Well, what did you expect? The man is such a wicked rogue, wily and seductive.” Delphine brought herself up short, giving a haughty sniff. “But who cares aboutthat? I certainly don’t. I am done with him, too, the ungrateful wretch. I deserve much better, perhaps one of those rich lords from the Heights. Or maybe I’ll even land myself a prince like you have done.”
“Wonderful. You can have Florian.” I tried to skirt past her, but unless I wanted to wade through a very deep puddle, it was impossible.
“That conceited yellow-haired dolt? No thank you. I have concluded younger men are best. Get one at the age when he can still be trained to be obedient. Now those rascally twin princes are both quite delectable.”
“I recommend Prince Dashiel,” I said. After the shabby way he had treated Amy, it would serve the treacherous youth right if the witch pursued him.
Delphine tipped her head to one side as though considering my suggestion. She sighed. “But Prince Dahl is equally handsome. It is so difficult to choose between them.”
“Then bewitch them both,” I advised, impatient to bring this conversation to an end. “Why break up a matching set?”
Delphine stared at me and much to my surprise, she burst out laughing. Not the sort of cackle one might expect from a witch, but in a manner that was light and feminine, almost musical. Her hair turned a silvery hue of blonde, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
“I do like the way you think, Ella Upton. Mal always said you and I could become good friends if only I got to know you better.”
“Perhaps someday when I have more time,” I murmured, making another effort to get by her. “Will you please let me pass? I need to see Mr. Fugitate on a matter of urgent business.”
Delphine shrugged and stepped aside. “Go on, then. But you needn’t be in such a hurry. The shop’s closed.”
I was dismayed to see that she was right. A closed sign hung in one of the windows. When I tried the door, it was indeed locked. Cupping my hands around my eyes, I tried to peer through one of the grimy windows. If I saw any sign of Withypole moving about in there, I was prepared to hammer at the door until he was obliged to admit me.
As though she guessed what I was thinking, Delphine said, “That won’t do you any good. The fairy’s not there.”
I whipped about to stare at her. “Then youknowwhat Withypole really is?”
Delphine smirked. “My dear, I am a witch who can transform herself into a cat. No one’s secrets are safe from me.”
Including Mal’s. Considering the amount of time Delphine had spent lurking about The Hawk’s Nest in her guise of Ebony, she probably knew far more about Mal and his plans than I ever had. On the night of the ball, she had turned up at the palace to ensure that I succeeded in stealing the orb for him. Because of Mercato’s witch-warding detector, she had been unable to get much further than the castle gates. I wondered if Delphine knew where Mal would be likely to go if he had to flee the kingdom.
But when I attempted to question her, she cut me off with a scowl. “It’s no use asking me about anything Mal might be up to lately. Since you had to go blabbing about me being able to turn into a cat, the man won’t let me anywhere near him. Besides,” she added slyly. “I thought you said you were done with him.”
“I am,” I said. “It’s just that— oh, never mind. Can you at least tell me where Withypole has gone?”
“That’s an easy one. When Fugitate is not at his shop, he can be found at the Winking Goblin. He falls into these morose moods and tries to alleviate his misery by downing thimbles full of whiskey. A very bad idea. Fairies have a notoriously low tolerance for strong spirits. One of these days, he’ll probablyget so drunk, he’ll forget himself and go flapping about the kingdom.”
I stared at Delphine, aghast. “And you have never made any attempt to dissuade him? Do you know what would happen to Withypole if the royal authorities ever found out he is a fairy in disguise?”
Delphine shrugged. “What do I look like? His fairy godmother?” She broke into another of her silvery laughs. “The fairy’s fairy godmother! Oh, that is amusing.”
Shooting her a disgusted look, I pushed past her, heading away from the shop.
“Wait! Where are you going?” she asked, falling into step beside me.
“To the Winking Goblin. To find Withypole.”
She caught hold of my arm to stop me. “Have you lost your mind? The Winking Goblin is a dreadful place where the worst thieves and cutthroats in this kingdom gather.”
“I am fully aware of how dangerous the tavern is. Mal has warned me to stay away from there many times, but I have no choice.” I yanked free of Delphine’s grip. “I told you that it is urgent for me to speak with Withypole.”
She regarded me wonderingly. “You are either very brave or quite deliciously mad. Being a bit mad myself, I admire that in a person. I am beginning to believe you and I really might become fast friends.” She paused, her brow furrowing as she mulled something over and then nodded. “In the spirit of our new accord, I will lend you this.”
Delphine unhooked something from her belt and handed it to me. It was a small leather sheath holding a knife not much bigger than what I used at home to peel potatoes.
