Swift

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‘You could always make it look as though you had wings,’ said Jenny, her voice echoing off the granite walls of the treasure cavern. ‘A little glamour, just for tonight- ’

Ivy let the delicate wing-chain slide through her fingers, spilling it back into the chest. ‘I’m not that good with illusions. Cicely can cast better glamours than me, and she’s five years old.’ She shut the lid with a snap. ‘Anyway, why bother? I’m not going to fool anyone.’

Jenny looked pained, but did not argue. Already she was growing into a beauty, with the sturdy bones and warm complexion that all piskeys admired. Her wings were no less striking, all grey-white ripples above and a blush of pink beneath. She didn’t need jewellery to make herself look fine.

Ivy, on the other hand, had inherited her mother’s pale skin and small, spindly frame. No matter what she wore, Jenny would always outshine her. But Ivy didn’t care about that. She wouldn’t mind if she were ugly as a spriggan, if only she’d been born with wings like Jenny’s.

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