Briefly, Will glimpsed Cavillex, red-rimmed eyes flaring, his contempt too strong to contain, but it felt like the dark was closing in from every side. Somehow he managed to keep himself between the Shield and his opponents.

  Three of the Unseelie Court moved around him like ghosts at twilight. But they were substantial. He laid one down with a thrust through the heart, but the other two surged forwards from opposite sides. Will parried the first, rolled quickly out of the way of the other.

  As the second drove a sword towards his chest, Will dropped to his knees and flipped backwards. When he came up, he caught the toe of his boot under a stool, thrashing it viciously into his opponents' faces. The crunch of shattering bone echoed across the room and one of them went down. As the other attacker sprawled over the falling body, Will laid open his throat with the tip of his sword, following through with two heart-thrusts to end their lives.

  Another attacker ran forwards. Will didn't even attempt to confront him. Stepping to one side at the last moment, he rammed his hand at the back of his enemy's head, propelling it into the window, and through it. As the broken glass ripped open his opponent's face, Will heaved both elbows onto the back of the neck, driving the shards at the base of the window through the throat.

  The elemental fury that consumed Cavillex was so potent Will could barely look at him. "How honourably you kill." The voice, like stones dropped on a coffin, echoed from all parts of the room.

  "There is no honour in any of this," Will replied. "Only survival."

  As Cavillex stalked forwards, Will levelled his sword and said with a humourless grin, "We have business, you and I."

  "Why, we have been in business for a long while," Cavillex said enigmatically. A bone white hand gestured towards the Shield. "You transported that item to the place where we needed it to be."

  Will laughed, but Cavillex's oppressive aura sucked any humour from his voice. "You try to make a cake out of crumbs."

  "I make the truth out of shadows ... shadows to you. What safer place for the Shield than here? If we had kept it in Edinburgh, you would not have let us rest. With it here, we could go about our work untroubled, knowing the item we valued most was ready for us when the time was right."

  Another manipulation. Was he that easy to direct?

  "You always do our bidding," Cavillex said, as if he could read Will's thoughts. "You, your fellows. We know what makes your hearts beat faster. We understand your fears and sadnesses. We see the crack in the door, ready to be pushed wide." The weight of his attention became unbearable. "We run you, like you run the animals in the field."

  Keeping his sword trained on Cavillex, Will fumbled blindly until his fingers closed on the Shield. "You could set the Silver Skull loose, destroy all of London, perhaps all of England. Why do you need the Shield?" he asked.

  "Because we do not wish to destroy all." His presence sucked every glimmer of light from the room. Will felt as if he was standing in the deepest dungeon. "Dartmoor looms large in the minds of my people. And there are greater punishments than death, as you well know." An icy smile, challenging Will to deny it.

  A clatter rose up from the stairs. Cavillex didn't look, but his smile grew broader as if he knew exactly who was coming. Without taking his eyes off Will, he gave a languorous summons with the fingers of his left hand, and the Silver Skull climbed through the trapdoor.

  "Mayhew. You are a traitorous bastard-" Will began emotionlessly, until he was interrupted by another figure behind the Skull.

  "Grace." His eyes flashed to Cavillex. "If you have harmed her-"

  "She has not been harmed. See?" Pale fingers eased under Grace's chin to raise her head. She blinked dreamily, her gaze finally alighting on Will.

  "Will ... it is so good to see you," she said.

  "Our entrance to the palace would have been much more difficult without her help," Cavillex said.

  Other members of the Unseelie Court bustled into the room, surrounding Grace. It was impossible for Will to get to her. Backing away until his heel was on the first step of the flight he had descended, Will moved his sword back and forth, ready for the first attack, but he could never overcome the weight of numbers.

  "We shall go from this room, and take your queen and infect her with a disease that will eat away her skin, her bone, her senses, yet keep her alive," Cavillex said. "She will suffer unimaginable agony, without respite."

  Will thought he saw Mayhew flinch.

  "Once we have her, we will release a plague across all London," Cavillex continued. "An entire city will die in a moment. With the Shield, we will be untouched by the whirlwind of disease unleashed by the Silver Skull, and we will walk through it, alongside your queen so she can see the corpses rotting in the street. Then we will take her to our home, to live on with the memory, and the pain."

  Will was stunned by the cruelty of Cavillex's scheme; the unnecessary death and suffering, purely because their supremacy had been challenged.

  "Your nation will be crushed by the magnitude of the blow struck against you," Cavillex added. "And that will only be the beginning of your country's agonies."

  Will examined the Shield in the palm of his hand. "So, without this arte fact you cannot unleash the full fury of the Skull and survive. You will be corrupted too, here at the heart of the whirlwind."

  Will backed up the stairs another step. "The cost of this item is high," he said, holding the Shield up so Cavillex could see it. "How many of your lives will buy it?"

  "You are a lesser creature and you have already taken too many of our lives," Cavillex replied. He gently led Grace forwards. "As you value life so lightly, your friend's death will be meaningless to you."

  Will hid his concern. "If you wish to barter the girl's life for this trinket, think again. That route has already been tried. My loyalty lies with queen and country ... and seeing the destruction of your kind."

  "You misunderstand. I do not barter. We will take the Shield from you when we slaughter you. The loss of this girl's life is a punishment for your brutality. The sight of her dying-the consequence of your actions-will be the one you take with you to the grave."

  Will stepped forwards, but the other members of the Unseelie Court closed around Grace. He would never reach her.

  "You claim to be the injured party, but slaughter comes easily to you. If you kill without regard, if you murder your own, even, over arguments about religion and politics, if morals do not guide you, then how can you expect us to act any differently?" Cavillex continued.

  "You have forced us down to your level."

  Cavillex's laughter was harsh and mocking.

  "Again, this is about survival," Will said. "We do not have the luxury of morals or gentility when we are being preyed upon." Even as Will spoke, he could hear the hollow ring to his words.

  Tired of Will, Cavillex turned to Mayhew and said, "Make her die, now, in a way that will scar his mind forever."

  In Mayhew's hesitation, Will saw a chink and acted quickly, "Do not do this, Mayhew. Grace is an innocent. Kill her and you will be damned for eternity."

  "He is already damned," Cavillex said lightly. "That is the least of his concerns."

  "Mayhew," Will pressed. "Do not ally yourself with these monsters. Whatever rewards they have promised you, they are not enough to tempt you to turn your back on your fellow man, or on your own humanity."

  "Do you think we bribed him with gold? You truly do not understand us," Cavillex said. "We know every part of you. We understand your weaknesses, your flaws, and we play them like a musician plays his instrument. A personal weakness makes you its mare, and it rides you hard, and you cannot throw it off, whatever you do. None of you are that strong. The only way he will be free of his torment-the only way he will be free of the mask-is to do my bidding." He pointed a slender finger at the Silver Skull and then directed it to Grace. "Kill her. Now."

  Mayhew turned his face to Will as if offering his apologies, and then raised his hand to Grace's forehead.

  "No, Matthew," Will pleaded. "Grace does not deserve this."

  Mayhew hesitated for the briefest moment, and then planted his hand on the nearest member of the Unseelie Court. In the swimming dark, Will glimpsed convulsions, boils, blackening skin, eyes growing thick with pus, a foaming mouth. Mayhew turned to the next, and another, both hands reaching out.

  The inhuman shrieks were so loud Will thought his ears would burst. As the shadows whirled, he had the impression of Cavillex throwing himself away from Mayhew towards the trapdoor. The red-rimmed eyes, with no glimmer of humanity in them, would haunt him forever.

  "You do not know us as well as you think," Will called after him. "Our weaknesses do not define us."

  As the Enemy fell around Mayhew, Cavillex lashed out. Will caught the glint of a blade driving towards Grace, and with an instinctive lunge yanked her out of its path. The blade continued into Mayhew's chest.

  Cavillex's voice set Will's teeth on edge: "Some part of our account will be balanced this day. Your queen will die." And with that, he was gone.

  Still gripped by the Unseelie enchantment, Grace stood blissfully as Mayhew lay beside her in a growing pool of blood. "Take care of Mayhew in his final moments," Will called to her, unsure if it would have any effect. He paused briefly beside Mayhew and whispered, "At the last, you did right." And then he was down the steps in pursuit of Cavillex, for the life of the queen.

  CHAPTER 58

  my the musket-shot crack of Cavillex's boots disturbed the dawn stillness of the palace as he swept into the range of buildings that would eventually lead him to the queen's quarters. Will was close behind.

  Through the windows, he could see the grey shadows of more of the Unseelie Court patrolling the palace grounds, oblivious to the drama that was unfolding. If Cavillex gained the opportunity to raise the alarm, there would be nothing Will could do to protect the queen, or himself, or any of them still alive there.

  But Cavillex appeared consumed by a furious rage, driven by the deaths of his associates and the failure of his intricate plan, his only thought revenge of the most brutal kind.

  Rounding a corner, Will caught up with Cavillex among three more of the Unseelie Court. Cold faces snapped towards him, black eyes devoid of all compassion; his mind squirmed under their attention. Doubling back quickly, he bounded up the stairs to the next floor and took an alternative route.

  As Cavillex passed the foot of another flight of stairs, Will flung himself off the steps with no thought for the stone flags below. The force of the impact drove Cavillex to the floor. With his knife, Will fought like a wild animal, every moment of suffering and misery he had endured driven into each stab. The blade plunged into muscle and bone, tore through features and chest, arms and guts. Blood flowed, but he couldn't tell if it was his own.

  It felt like he had a fox under his hands. Cavillex thrashed and fought, writhing from Will's grip. Finally, he broke free and threw himself on top of Will, gripping Will's head in his hands. Pressing his face close, Will swam in deep shadow and those hideous red-rimmed eyes. They burned deep into Will's mind, turning over his thoughts, driving into his memories, abusing the most private part of him.

  Throughout his body, he felt a sickening change: muscles knotting, every fibre straining, and he remembered the scarecrow in Alsatia that had once been a man.

  With a tremendous effort, he brought the knife up hard into the side of Cavillex's neck. The inhuman shriek made Will's thoughts fizz. Cavillex lurched up, catching Will with a sharp backhand as he staggered away, clutching at his wound.

  Dazed, Will sprawled across the flags, but he could already feel the pains deep in his body diminishing. By the time he had recovered, Cavillex was gone, but blood trailed in his path.

  When Will reached the queen's chambers, Cavillex was already ransacking the room with three other members of the Unseelie Court. They rounded on him instantly, more animals then men. Will had a second to realise Elizabeth was not there before he was forced into such a furious ballet of parrying and thrusting he could only act on instinct.

  A loud crash echoed across the room, but Will couldn't afford to divert his attention for an instant. Driven back by the intensity of the onslaught, he fought for his life, seeing only steel and cold eyes and mouths that snapped and snarled like the beast that had attacked in the frozen Russian forest.

  But then one of his opponents fell forwards, a blade protruding from his chest, and another clutched futilely at his throat, across which a knife had been swiftly drawn. The third was so distracted by the sudden slaying of his associates he was unprepared for Will's thrust through his chest.

  Carpenter and Launceston stood over the bodies, already turning to confront Cavillex, who stood by an entrance to a passageway behind the panelling. He could barely stand from the injuries Will had inflicted on him.

  Cavillex snarled something in his unsettling language and darted into the dark space.

  "The queen!" Carpenter exclaimed.

  Will bounded past him into the secret passageway. Cavillex was already lost to the dark, his urgent movements echoing back. Careering into a room, Will found Cavillex wrestled against a wall by Nathaniel. His friend attempted to stop Cavillex reaching Elizabeth, who cowered in a corner next to Walsingham and Dee.

  "Nat! Leave him!" Will barked, too late.

  Leaning in, Cavillex whispered into Nathaniel's ear. As Cavillex unburdened his secret horrors, Nathaniel's eyes became glassy. The blood drained from his face and a fixed expression of dread gripped him. Swaying for a moment, he slithered to the floor, head in his hands.

  Though terribly wounded, Cavillex still managed to give Will a look of triumph.

  Lost to rage, Will beat Cavillex so hard bone shattered and blood flew under his knuckles. He was about to draw his sword to run Cavillex through when Carpenter grabbed him forcibly and pulled him away.

  "Wait," he said. "There are worse things than death." His unconscious echoing of Cavillex's words brought Will up sharp. Carpenter indicated Launceston standing in the entrance to the passageway, ghastly in the gloom. "Let Robert spend some time with him."

  "What?" Will began. "Why-?"

  "Trust me," Carpenter whispered. "This is my gift to you, to draw a veil over our past disagreement. Launceston has a ... specific touch."

  Not understanding, but his anger now spent, Will allowed Carpenter to guide him away so he could turn his attention to Nathaniel, lying broken on the floor, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond the walls of the room.

  Will knelt next to him. "Nat. What have I done?"

  He was half aware of Launceston stepping by him, grabbing the beaten Cavillex, and thrusting him into the room at the back. The door closed. The lock turned.

  Walsingham helped Will to his feet. As Dee quickly led out Elizabeth with all the concern and affection of the man who had tutored her since she was a child, Walsingham said, "There is still time. We may be able to aid your assistant, if we act quickly. Leave him with me. Go, and run these foul creatures from the palace. Kill as many as you find."

  Will was reluctant to leave Nathaniel, but he understood Walsingham was right. Flashing one deeply concerned glance at his friend, Will entered the passageway with Carpenter, but he couldn't escape the memory of Miller, hanging from the rafters, slain by a whispered word. Some slight comfort came to him as he stepped out into the queen's chamber. Echoing along the passageway from the secret rooms came Cavillex's agonised cry, continuing unbroken until Will had left the rooms far behind.

  They scoured the palace grounds, but they could find no sign of the Unseelie Court. It was as if Cavillex's invading force had vanished with the coming of the dawn.

  While Carpenter went to liaise with Courtenay and his men who had sealed off the palace from the rest of London, Will returned to the Lantern Tower where he found Grace slowly coming out of her daze. She blinked and looked around, not knowing how she had come to be there.

  Will was relieved, for it meant she would not recall her time with the Unseelie Court. There was still hope for her sanity. He had protected her, as he had vowed, though as much by good fortune as by his own actions.

  "Every fighting man needs luck," he whispered. Confused, she made to ask him what he meant, but he took her in his arms and held her tightly. She nestled into him, and he could feel her emotions acutely, but all he could think of was jenny and how it should have been her he saved.

  After a moment, he pulled away to examine Mayhew, lying dead on the floor. The Key had been taken, and without it the Skull and the Shield were worthless. He felt oddly relieved. Cavillex's words returned to him: if they could not act to some higher standard, they would deserve to be destroyed, as the Unseelie Court deserved it.

  "Oh," Grace said. "He has left a message." She indicated the wall, where Mayhew had used the last of his life to carve an inscription in the plaster with broken, bloody fingernails.

  "Bury my mother," she read. "What does that mean?"

  CHAPTER 59

  cross London, the church bells were ringing. In the dead August heat, Will waited in the shade of a soaring elm, trying to ignore the powerful stink of the filthy slums that sprawled along the Thames to the east of the Tower. Majesty and vileness, side by side; that was London, that was his life.

  Nearby, Leicester strutted back and forth, revelling in the attention of the thousands of men waiting in their ranks or on horseback, playing the hero in his mind, though he had not been called on to fight. On the ridge overlooking the river, the camp at West Tilbury was a splash of colour, red, gold, and blue pennants fluttering on the slight breeze, flags flying proudly above the white pavilions erected to shield the nobility from the noonday sun.

  Eschewing the crowds lining both banks of the river and hanging from the windows of the houses with the best views, Will had opted for a period of quiet contemplation while he waited for the queen to arrive. There was much to consider.

  Somewhere in the far north, the Spanish were drowning, fighting devastating seas, ships sunk and torn apart, men washed up on beaches to be slaughtered by the local people. The price that nation had paid-and would pay-for the poor judgment of their leaders was great. But here at home, the English ships were returning to port lauded, every man aboard a hero. A new day was dawning.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48