At the moth’s instruction (and how it pained him to even think those words), Onrey lifted up the wicker horse’s head from the debris on the ground, and hung it back on the wall.  The moth fluttered up to sit on the nose.  “I think this is how they said to do it…  Alas, young queen, passing by / If this your mother knew / Her heart would break in two.”

Those words resonated with Onrey more than he would have liked.  If his own family knew what had happened since he set out, that he’d been beaten in a fight and forced to rely on the aid of something as pathetically small as this moth, what would they say?  But he had no time to dwell on it, because as soon as the words were out, the horse’s mouth began to move. 

The eyes- just glass a moment ago, but now alive- fixed on the moth, and a gasp came out of the wooden mouth.  “You’re Kai Domino, aren’t you?”  Onrey had never heard Colwyn Ballantine’s voice before, but he knew immediately that he was hearing it now.

“I am, yes,” said the moth, “I’m sorry about…”

Onrey gathered up the tattered remains of his confidence, and cleared his throat.  “I’m Onrey Tavin, and we have matters to discuss.”

The horse- Ballantine- went quiet for a moment, and seemed to be sizing him up.  “Alright,” he said eventually, “But first, do either of you know where my nieces are?”

“They’re fine,” said the moth, “Or they were last time I saw them, anyway.  As far as I know, they’re still on their way to Opal Hill.”

“Well, that’s something.  Has the house been broken into?  I know the horse’s head was knocked off the wall somehow…”

“There was a guy…”  The moth made an irritating whine to indicate that he was uncertain.  “He said he was the girls’ dad?  He broke the lock and threw a bunch of furniture around, looking for…”

Onrey was not going to leave it to the moth to tell the story of his humiliation.  “His name was Joe Warbeck, and he beat me half to death for questioning his manners.”  He practically spat the words.  “Friend of yours?”

The moth eyed him nervously, then turned back to Ballantine.  “Actually, I should probably just let this guy tell it.”

Ballantine didn’t voice any objection, so Onrey got straight to the point.  “Your nieces trespassed on my family’s property and told a pack of lies in order to escape.  And when I came here to ask for an explanation, I was set upon by this Joe Warbeck.”  He stared into the horse’s glass eyes, waiting to see how he responded.

“I see.  Where is he now?”  No hint of an apology.  Onrey didn’t know why he was still surprised, at this point.

The moth spoke right across him.  “We don’t know.  He ran away after knocking this guy out.”

Once again, Onrey restrained himself from crushing the loathsome little insect between his fingers.  “Mr Ballantine, I came here today because our two families should have spoken face-to-face a long time ago.  We demand that you restore the use of the paths to us.”

Ballantine blinked.  “What?”

“You seem to feel that only you and your family deserve the right to travel from place to place.  Why should that be?  Why should the rest of us have to pass through Dovecote Gardens just to communicate?  Is it truly just so you can grow fat off the profits?”

Ballantine shook his head.  “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.  Are you saying that you think…?”

A knock at the door interrupted them.  Onrey had closed it before picking up the horse’s head, but the thing was still barely hanging on its hinges.  Even so, somebody felt the need to knock.

“Oh,” said Ballantine, “I don’t suppose one of you could answer that?”

Onrey spluttered.  “I’m not your doorman!”

The moth flew up and tsked at him.  “Alright, you drama queen, I’ll do it.”

Onrey would have liked to have seen how the moth planned to open a door that was a thousand times his size, but, after a moment’s reflection, he decided to walk across the hallway and open it himself.  It was not done to wait around while others did things for you.

He opened the door to see one of Colwyn’s nieces- the one with the long hair, the one who’d lied to his father’s face when he’d asked them to catch the rocfinch- flanked by two tall, silver beings whose heads looked as if they were topped with tree-branches.  Opal Hill, he remembered from his father’s notes.  Each of these people was actually five or six siblings combined.

Before he could say anything- a greeting to the Opal Hill folk, an admonition to the girl- Onrey heard a voice from behind him.  “Jeanette?  Is that you?”

The girl’s face lit up.  “Colwyn!”  And she strode past Onrey as though he wasn’t even there, straight up to the horse’s head on the wall.  Her companions stayed where they were, as if rendered speechless by her behaviour.  “Right,” she told her uncle, “Before we say anything else, tell the Finery family where you are right now.”

“Hm?”  Ballantine glanced over at the Opal Hill folk in the doorway.  “Oh, I see.  I’m in the Iridescence family’s attic.  They’ve been keeping me here for two or three days.”

Onrey blinked.  That certainly changed things. 

“See?” said the girl Jeanette, looking over at her friends, “What did I tell you?”

One of the silver beings said, in a voice as deliberate as it was furious, “What on Earth is going on here?”

“Are you saying that’s Colwyn Ballantine’s voice?” asked the other.

“I am saying that!” said the girl Jeanette, with an impudent grin.

“Where’s the evidence?” demanded the furious silver being, “The pictures of your brother?”

“Oh, right.”  The grin widened.  “I don’t actually have a brother.  I just made that up so you’d let me into your house.”

The silver being looked about to say something, but had to stop for breath on the way.  So Onrey spoke instead.  “Quite good at lying, aren’t we?”

If he’d been expecting shame, then he was disappointed.  “Pretty decent, yeah.”

The other silver being- the one who’d asked about the horse’s head- tapped their fingers on the doorframe.  “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what…”

They went silent, and looked up.  A huge, dark shadow had descended over the entire house.

(To be continued)