Chapter Twenty
Winter bit, fierce and relentless, and Phineas bitterly regretted the loss of his coat. He and it had parted ways somewhere between Summer’s Hollow and Wodebean’s odd abode, and he had never got it back. His shirt-sleeves could offer no defence against the chill wind, and his woollen waistcoat was too worn, and too brief, to be much more use. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried his best not to shiver; Lady Silver needed no complaining, ill-equipped baker in her train, and whose fault was it that he was cold?
Ilsevel stood hesitating, looking about with palpable confusion. Her beautiful brow was creased with doubt, and she bit absently upon her perfect lip.
Phineas had never seen her at a loss before.
‘It appears I do not know where we are,’ she confessed. ‘And I
