The Devil's Looking-Glass (12 page)

Once done, he put aside his regrets and raced to the Black Gallery, where Carpenter was drinking sullenly by the roaring fire. Launceston paced the room in silence like some ghastly revenant. Will told them what had taken place at Greenwich. The two spies grasped the implications without any need for explanation and together the three men made their way through the fog to the palace’s River Gate.

Kneeling on the jetty, Carpenter peered at the black ripples lapping against the posts. ‘What foulness now resides here?’ he asked.

‘Something with teeth which carries with it the bitter cold of
winter
,’ Will replied. ‘You would do well to keep your face away from the water if you do not wish to be left with a permanent grin. Find Strangewayes, and then make ready a wherry to take us to Greenwich. I have one final piece of business to attend to, and by then Captain Prouty should be ready to sail.’

‘Hrrrm,’ Launceston mused as he peered into the fog. ‘Is it wise to take to the water?’

‘We do not have the time to cross the bridge and ride along the bank to Greenwich. The river is faster, and no vessel has been disturbed.’

‘So far,’ the Earl replied.

Will left the two men to select one of the boats tied to the pier and went in search of Grace. But as he hurried through the still palace corridors to where the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting slept, she found him first. He saw in an instant that trouble awaited him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes blazed. Wrapped in an emerald cloak, she strode up to him and snapped, ‘I have just seen Nat. He is concerned for you. I fear for your sanity.’

‘Grace—’

‘Do not play games with me. I am no fool.’ She thrust her face towards his. ‘Nat is a good man, and although he has spent long years at your side he has not grasped the true twisted paths your own mind follows.’

‘And you have,’ Will said, remaining calm.

‘At some level, we were joined by the tragedy of my sister’s disappearance, Will Swyfte. That terrible event set us apart from the rest of the world, yet in its shared misery bonded us. Yes, I do know how you think. I know what shapes you, what drives you, whatever face you present to the world: a hero loved by all; a drunken fool; a rake who fornicates with doxies. I see the sadness and the hardness and the determination. And when you give Nat such a
glorious reward
, I know it means only one thing: that you believe you are sailing off to die.’

Grace’s perception caught Will off-guard and for a moment he could not find the words to respond. A bleak smile leapt to her
lips
when she saw that she was right, but her expression quickly darkened.

‘Grace, do not make this more difficult than it needs to be.’

‘You have dwelt in the shadow of Jenny’s disappearance for so long that you can no longer see the light. You welcome death as a release from your pain.’

‘I sail to rescue Dr Dee, not to end my own existence.’

He saw the determination in her face, the echo of the elder sister he loved, and that only lacerated him more. ‘We have been close, you and I, and there was a time when I wished us to be closer still,’ she said. ‘And now you would come here and bid me farewell as if you were only crossing the river to drink in Bankside? I deserve better.’

‘You always did, Grace, but I gave you only what I could. Let us part in a manner that will bring us both some comfort in the weeks and months ahead, not with harsh words that we will come to regret.’ He would miss her, and Nat too, and all of London, but he had lived in the half-world for too long. He could not go on that way. For good or ill, there had to be an ending.

‘Very well,’ she said, stepping forward to kiss him on the cheek, ‘but you must vow to do all in your power to return to me—’

‘Step away from her!’

Will turned to see Strangewayes standing at the end of the corridor, his rapier drawn. The red-headed spy looked furious. Will sighed.

‘Tobias, it is not as it appears,’ Grace began, but jealousy seemed to consume the other man. He ran towards them.

Will drew his own blade and parried the younger man’s wild thrust. ‘Sheathe your weapon. You are acting like some wounded child,’ he snapped, adding, baffled, ‘Why do you behave in this manner?’

That merely drove Strangewayes to greater rage. ‘You know Grace keeps a flame for you in her heart and you trifle with her affections to swell the head of the great Will Swyfte. Do you care for no one but yourself?’

‘Curb your tongue. You will regret this outburst.’

‘England’s greatest spy,’ Strangewayes sneered. ‘What a confection that is. You are a wastrel and your time is done. I am the future.’ He thrust again, with more care this time. Will deflected the attack once again. The other spy had some skill, Will saw, but it was still raw. Given time he would be as great as he imagined himself to be now.

‘Tobias, if you love me as you say you do, end this,’ Grace demanded angrily. ‘You are mistaken in your suspicions.’

But Will saw that Strangewayes’ hurt pride would not let him back down. In a flash, he clashed rapiers, spinning the other man off-balance, and then cuffed him on the right ear. Strangewayes crashed against the wall, dazed. ‘Your heart is in the right place, if your head is not,’ Will said. ‘I am glad you love Grace enough to risk your neck, but this is a futile display. Everything we have fought for now hangs by a thread and I do not have the time to knock sense into you. If you continue to fight, I will run you through and leave you here to die, though Grace hate me for evermore. Do you understand?’

Strangewayes glared, but the defiance had been knocked out of him. Will turned back to Grace and took her hand. ‘Fare you well, Grace. I hope we will see each other again.’ Tears sprang to her eyes.

‘Tell her,’ Strangewayes pleaded when he saw her sadness. ‘Tell her what we face.’

‘Silence,’ Will snapped, allowing the threat to surface in his eyes.

‘She deserves to know the truth. No stories for children. No false comforts. Tell her, so she can put her thoughts in order if we do not return—’

‘I said silence.’ Will flicked the tip of his rapier to Strangewayes’ throat. ‘You are young. You have only just learned the secret knowledge that we share, the knowledge that can destroy good-minded people.’

‘I have considered this matter greatly while at prayer. Grace is strong enough.’

Will dug the tip of the blade deeper, raising a bubble of blood. ‘You think you are doing her a kindness, but it is only cruelty. I say one final time, silence.’

‘Very well. But now it is my turn to say goodbye.’

Will watched the other man’s face. He wondered briefly if it wouldn’t be simpler to kill him there and then, but then Grace took his wrist and gently eased his sword away. ‘He will not tell me your secrets, dear Will,’ she murmured. ‘I will not allow him to.’

Will held her gaze for a long moment. He felt a deep affection, and only wanted her to be happy. He thought that perhaps she understood. Putting up his sword, he walked away without another word. In the shadows at the end of the corridor, he glanced back. Strangewayes held her in an embrace, whispering in her ear. He was not the man Will would have chosen for her, but he loved her, and at that moment, that seemed enough.

Back at the jetty, Carpenter and Launceston argued, pacing around each other like dogs preparing to fight. They grew silent when they saw Will and clambered into the wherry, where a lantern glowed on a pole in the prow. Carpenter eyed the water with unease. The Earl hummed tunelessly as he selected an oar. A moment later, Strangewayes joined them in sullen silence, flashing one unguarded look at Will as he found a place beneath the lantern. He pulled the hood of his cloak up and kept his head down.

‘Take us out into the current,’ Will said, ‘but have a care as we ride the fast water at the bridge. A dip will bring more than a chill to our bones.’

‘Do you lie awake at night searching for increasingly elaborate ways to kill us?’ Carpenter grumbled, undoing the rope tied to the quayside ring. He grasped another oar and pushed the wherry out into the flow.

‘My intention is to keep your days interesting, John.’ Will crouched in the bottom of the wherry and peered into the dark water.

The bank faded into the fog. As the grey enveloped them, the lapping of the river grew muffled and distorted. Will cocked his head and looked around, but he could neither see nor hear any sign of the greatest city in Europe. They could have been alone in all England, drifting through a wilderness.

Carpenter and Launceston heaved slow, measured strokes, each man watching the point where his blade dipped into the river as if he expected the oar to be torn from his grasp.

When they had moved downstream in silence for a few moments, Strangewayes wrenched to one side and pointed. ‘There!’

Will felt an eddy that rocked the wherry.

‘’Twas the length of a seal at least,’ Strangewayes said with unease. ‘Perhaps larger still. I saw grey skin just break the surface.’

‘There too.’ Launceston pointed on the other side of the boat. ‘It swims fast, to circle us so quickly.’

‘No,’ Will said, looking around. ‘Not one. Many. See.’

In the circle of lantern-light round the prow, they saw repeated rapid movement at the surface. The wherry rocked more vigorously. All around, the sound of splashing echoed.

‘They are like salmon at spawn,’ Carpenter said. ‘Have we disturbed them in our passing?’

‘Not fish,’ Strangewayes whispered, leaning back.

Will moved to the prow and leaned over the edge. Grey shapes flashed past, arching their bodies and rolling near the surface before diving down. He fixed his gaze until one passed in front of him. He saw a face that was human in shape, though longer and thinner than most men’s, with hollow cheeks and huge, lidless eyes. Straggly hair, like seaweed, streamed down from the top of the skull-like head. Yet it was the mouth that burned in Will’s mind: lipless, with two rows of needle-sharp teeth forming a permanent grimace.

Sharp enough to tear off a man’s hand
, he thought.

The skin was pale, merging into mottled grey. And as the
unearthly
creature darted from view, he caught a glimpse of an eel-like lower body ending in fins.

‘Neither man nor fish, but both,’ he said in a cheery tone that belied his unease. ‘Row a little harder, lads.’ He still could not guess what the Unseelie Court hoped to achieve with these creatures. Although they buffeted the wherry as they swam past, they made no attempt to overturn the boat.

‘In the taverns around Tilbury, seamen tell of such things swimming in northern waters. It is considered a bad omen to see one,’ Launceston informed the others.

‘It is a worse omen to see one if you are in the water,’ Carpenter muttered.

They fell silent, watching the churning river. Will began to count the number of times the creatures broke the surface, but soon gave up. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the disturbance in the water ended and the Thames was quiet again. Carpenter and Launceston bent to the oars vigorously. The wherry forged on.

When the current grew stronger as they neared London Bridge, Strangewayes shivered and said, ‘Has winter come early?’

Will knew what the younger spy meant. The air had become distinctly colder. His breath misted. He peered out across the water, puzzled, and thought he glimpsed something that troubled him. Strangewayes passed him the lantern and he stood in the stern and held it high. The light glinted off the river. Now he understood the purpose of the swimming creatures and why the sailor and Cecil’s guard had seen their flesh turn to ice.

‘Row faster,’ he called with urgency. ‘Ride the fastest current under the bridge, never mind the danger. Our time is running out.’

The Thames was freezing.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

ICE GLITTERED AROUND
the stone pillars rising from the river. In the growing cold, the fog was thinning. The narrow arch of the bridge supporting its jumble of merchants’ houses and shops began to appear out of the grey. The night was filled with the thunderous rush of water between the supports as Launceston and Carpenter heaved on the oars to guide the wherry to the centre of the flow. Will watched their labours, shouting encouragement or guidance when they drifted too far to one side or the other. He had seen more than one vessel dashed to pieces on the bridge pillars. Most watermen would not risk the turbulent currents and dropped their passengers short of the bustling bridge to walk to where they could hail another boat on the other side. The spies did not have that luxury, and now the risk was even greater. The briefest dip in the water would see them torn to pieces by the creatures that swam there, just out of sight.

Despite the chill, sweat glistened on Carpenter’s forehead. His long hair flicked back with each jerk of his shoulders, revealing the pink scarring along the left side of his face.

‘Heave to the right!’ Will yelled as he watched the wherry swirl towards the nearest pillar.

His face impassive, Launceston pulled on his oar. The boat continued to swing in the violent current. As the vessel swept into the dark beneath the bridge, Will inhaled a blast of dank air. The lantern-light flared up the stone support, the high tide mark now glistening with hoar frost.

‘Tobias! To me!’ he called.

Throwing off his hood, Strangewayes lurched along the yawing wherry to Will’s side. As the boat skewed towards the bridge, the two men swung their legs out over the side of the boat and pushed them off the pillar. Carpenter jabbed his oar against the wall, and the three of them steadied the drift. Together they heaved the vessel away. Will and Strangewayes teetered over the churning river until Carpenter snatched two handfuls of damp cloak and yanked them to safety.

The current caught the wildly rocking wherry. When it hurled the vessel across the roiling water, Will crashed on to his back on the bottom. By the time he had managed to raise his head they had shot like an arrow out at the other side.

Here the mist hung in wisps. He could glimpse candlelight in the windows of the large merchant houses that lined the northern banks. A bitter blast of air struck him. Bony fingers of ice reached out from both edges of the river, clutching for the wherry.