had now been lost to the torrent of people.
Above the hubbub, Pickering's barking orders rolled out. His men drew their attention from the bear, the fires, and the fights towards lion Alanzo, and Will.
Troubled that he could no longer see Grace, Will redoubled his efforts to break through the flow. When he finally emerged from the crowd, he caught a fleeting glimpse of lion Alanzo and the Silver Skull disappearing into the maze of alleys, but the cry of 'Clubs!' was already rising up from Pickering's men as they surged towards him.
Will sprinted across the cobbles, but he had not got far when the chilling howl of a hunting dog echoed over Alsatia.
The Hunter was close and drawing closer.
CHAPTER 16
,ith her hood pulled low to hide her face, Grace sheltered behind the wreckage of a stall from the yelling crowd of cutthroats and customers washing back and forth between fire and the rampaging bear. Knots of Pickering's men beat paths through the mass. Certain they were searching for her, Grace regretted foolishly calling out Will's name; now Pickering would try to use her to control Will.
With frenzied roars, the lunging bear was surrounded by several men with staffs. Shrill screams echoed as raking claws tore one open from throat to groin, but within a minute the others forced the beast over the edge and back into the pit. A cheer went up, and as the bear's rage subsided, the panic receded. Grace knew she had to secure her escape while there was still some tumult to obscure her passing.
Keeping low, she edged around the stall until she glimpsed a path to one of the four alleys leading off the courtyard. Before she could move, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder.
Her startled cry was stifled by a hand over her mouth, and her head turned to reveal Miller's kind face. Grace recognised him instantly as one of the men who had been held prisoner alongside Will.
'Mistress, we must get you out of this danger,' he said.
'Please,' she begged, 'Will is in great danger. You must help him.'
'Will can take care of himself.'
'No,' she pressed. 'I saw him in pursuit of Don Alanzo. The Spaniard will lead him into a trap-the Don has other allies in London. And the King of Cutpurses has dispatched his murderous crew on Will's heels. You must help him!'
Grace's pitiful expression moved Miller. 'Very well. But stay here. I will fetch the others to help you-'
'Go!' she interrupted. 'I will call if I need them.'
With a nod, Miller threw his great frame in the direction Grace indicated. Glancing around, Grace spied Launceston, Mayhew, and Carpenter, who had now claimed cudgels and knives and were carving a path through Pickering's men with cold efficiency. They were too occupied to help her.
Determination blazed inside her. She would not be beaten down, nor afraid. Jenny's death had convinced her that life was hard, and easily cut short, and that living in fear only diminished it further. Setting her jaw, she waited for the path to the alley to clear again, and then leapt from her hiding place and ran.
Few women were there, and most of them were doxies or members of the criminal gang, but she moved swiftly without drawing attention to herself. For a while she was caught up in a hectic attempt to put out the blazes, but eventually the alley appeared in reach. Yet as her heart beat faster in anticipation, in the corner of her eye she caught sight of a bird mask fixed upon her, and for the briefest moment, she was caught in Pickering's unblinking stare. With no men close to hand, Pickering gave pursuit himself. Barging through the crowd, he closed the gap so quickly Grace knew that even if she reached the alley, he would be upon her soon after.
The clatter of his hobnails upon the cobbles rang at her back. With her breath burning in her chest, she slipped into the dark of the alley and only when her eyes adjusted did she realise it was occupied. Her startled cry faded at a familiar face.
'Kit!' she cried. 'And Nathaniel!'
With a small group of the queen's men at their backs, Marlowe and Nathaniel advanced on the courtyard. Marlowe had his sword drawn, but Grace fell into his arms in relief.
'Thank God,' she gasped. Glancing back, she saw Pickering come to a halt when he saw the new arrivals, and then turn and rush back into the crowd.
'Nat urged me to bring help when Will did not return by the appointed hour,' Marlowe said. He turned to the men. 'Seal off this courtyard. Let no man escape, for we will have an army of rogues at our back if word gets out that we are here.'
'Will pursues a Spanish spy, and another of your men has gone to help,' Grace said. 'You must aid him-'
The words died in her throat as the howl of the hunting dog rose up again, this time laced with an insistent bloodlust. It had located its prey.
CHAPTER 17
he twisting routes among the tenements were impenetrably dark, the buildings too high to allow the moonlight to reach the ground. Only the occasional glimmer of candlelight gleamed in the black windows. Will's footsteps echoed off the walls like stones dropped on ice. From somewhere ahead of him, a similar noise resounded, and from behind came the tramp of many boots as Pickering's men fanned out through the maze of byways. Their lanterns flickered like fireflies as they searched doorways and side alleys.
At a crossroads, he realised the footsteps ahead had slowed. Keeping close to a wall, he edged forwards until whispering voices emerged from the gloom, speaking Spanish. Another voice responded, mellifluous but with an unsettling note of menace.
Tracing the low conversation along an alley to another courtyard large enough to be filled with silvery moonlight, Will found lion Alanzo and the Silver Skull with the Hunter. Beside him, his dog's red eyes sparked.
Keeping well to the shadows where he could not be seen, Will spied on the scene, but within an instant the dog's hackles rose and it released a low, threatening growl. Peering directly at Will, the Hunter gave a knowing smile.
Will expected the Hunter to set his dog loose, but instead he removed an item from the pouch at his belt and kept it hidden in his palm.
Stepping out from the shadows, Will said, 'You keep dishonourable company, lion Alanzo.'
Don Alanzo eyed the Hunter. 'A mercenary from Flanders.'
'More than that. And worse.' Will strode forwards, keeping his right arm and Dee's blade hidden behind his back.
'Leave here, Will Swyfte, as quickly as you can,' Don Alanzo said. 'I offer this advice as a courtesy. In return for you saving my life in the bear pit, I now save yours.'
Don Alanzo's words could have been glib arrogance regarding his skills as a swordsman, but Will heard a powerful note of truth in them. 'I cannot leave without the Silver Skull,' Will responded. 'I have been entrusted with the task of returning it to the Tower.'
'Him,' Don Alanzo snapped. 'Not it. There is a man beneath this mask, and he has been held prisoner in this Godforsaken country for twenty years. You claim to be the civilised defenders of the true way, righteously holding
