the King’s neck. Stepping back, Will sheathed his sword and then held out his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Jenny took it. He could feel the fury of Mandraxas’s gaze upon him as Carpenter and Grace hurried to his side. The Fay surrounded them and, Will guessed, countless more were gathering in the fortress beyond.
‘How can we ever escape?’ Grace whispered as if reading his thoughts.
‘Deortha, show me the way out,’ Will commanded into the looking glass.
The surface cleared and he heard the sorcerer speak: ‘First, kill the King.’
‘Do you take me for a fool? Once we have our freedom, you can have your monarch’s life.’ After a moment’s hesitation, the sorcerer uttered the words Will needed to hear. He grinned at the others, a reassuring show of bravado. ‘Stay close at my back. And if any here dare threaten you, prick the King till he squeals. Our Enemy will think twice before daring to lay a hand on you.’ With Launceston and Meg guarding their prisoner, Will slid out his rapier and brandished it in front of him. The wall of Fay parted and he began to lead the way through them. Cadaverous faces loomed from the half-light on either side, hungry eyes staring and jaws snapping. A choking sense of dread enveloped him.
At the hall’s great door, he turned back and looked across the Unseelie Court. Waving the tip of his rapier towards Mandraxas’s face, he announced, ‘Your King has betrayed you. He has conspired to leave your Queen a prisoner of men so that the Golden Throne can be his alone.’
‘Lies,’ Mandraxas bellowed.
With a smile and an arched eyebrow, Meg dug her blade deeper into the King’s neck and breathed into his ear, ‘Quiet now, my sweet. I can cut out your tongue and still keep you alive. For a while.’
‘Trust not my words,’ Will continued, his voice clear and strong. ‘Seek out your court’s wise adviser, Deortha, who is now incarcerated, upon your King’s orders. Free him from his cell where he has been locked away along with the truth and listen to what he has to say. Then you will learn that we are not so different, Fay and men.’
Will turned to Jenny and drank in all the things he had missed, the sparkle in her dark eyes and the way her brow knitted as if she was always questioning, and the colour in her cheeks and her lips, in case this was their last moment. Gently, he cupped the back of her neck and pulled her to him. She showed no resistance. He closed his eyes. Their lips met and he felt a jolt run through him, and all the lost years melted away. Once again he was in Warwickshire with the sun on his shoulders and the future ahead of him. Blood throbbed through his head, driving out all thoughts. And when he opened his lids, he watched a light appear in her face as if she were waking from that dream.
Turning back to the ranks of glowering faces, he called, ‘Our time here is done.’ He bowed deeply, flinging out his left arm with a flourish. ‘And so I bid you farewell.’
And with that, he pushed open the doors and led the others out into the dark alleys of a fortress teeming with the Enemy.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
TORCHES HISSED ON the black basalt walls. In and out of swooping shadows, six figures ghosted along the narrow, labyrinthine ways, bundling a seventh. Darkness as thick and impenetrable as the grave shrouded the spaces in between the too-small pools of light. Will ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, wondering how long they had before their pursuers caught them.
At a crossing of the ways, the fleeing figures pressed back into an archway as two grey sentries marched past. Once they had gone, the spies slipped by, but at every turn more Fay drifted like ghosts emerging from churchyards at dusk. Will’s chest tightened. It was only a matter of time until their escape route was discovered.
‘Can you not use the mirror to predict where these foul things lie in wait?’ Meg hissed as they huddled by a wall.
‘Without Deortha’s guidance it is useless to me,’ he replied, ‘but to keep it out of their control is victory in itself.’ He squeezed Jenny’s hand, never wanting to let it go, and she returned a wan smile, but the light of recognition gleamed in her eyes with increasing brilliance.
‘You damn yourself with each step you take,’ Mandraxas snarled. His head was pulled back, his long hair held in Launceston’s fist, his throat bared for a simple, swift slash of a blade. ‘Your agonies will be never-ending.’
‘Keep a close eye on our guest,’ Will warned the Earl. ‘Given half a chance he will violate your wits with his whispered words and turn you upon yourself, or he will use his magics to leave you nothing but a straw man ripe for the harvest bonfire.’
It was then that he noticed Carpenter. The man was tearing and scratching at his face as if insects crawled there. ‘John? Are you sick?’
‘He is well enough,’ Launceston cut in, too quickly. ‘I will watch over him. Your task is to guide us safely through this hell. Or lead us to a quick death, at worst.’
Barely had the words left his lips when the funereal tolling of a bell tore through the hot dark once again. Will felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck.
‘The night unfolds and releases its terrors,’ Mandraxas whispered with a low laugh. ‘Run. Run.’
Across the City of Gold, they could hear the wind rising. In the high eaves and along the twisting alleyways it moaned. Doors crashed open. Feet pounded on stone. A high keening, of inhuman voices raised in anger, tugged at their ears.
‘The sands have run out, my love,’ Meg said with an edge to her voice. ‘This is no time for caution.’
Urging the others to follow, Will broke into a run, following the directions Deortha had whispered in his head. But the alleyways twisted and turned in a confusing manner, and the dark lay heavy around them.
Running feet echoed on all sides. Will could feel the rising anxiety of his friends as the activity milled closer. But just as he feared the worst, he saw the landmark he had been searching for, a golden globe spinning with no visible means of support at the centre of a small courtyard. He ran forward, only to be confronted by a high, black, featureless wall. Despairing glances darted among the others as they realized they were trapped.
Footsteps and calls echoed all around. The Unseelie Court were drawing near.
‘Why do you tarry?’ Carpenter barked. ‘Make haste before we are undone.’
Jenny squeezed Will’s hand as he scanned the length of the wall. ‘What is it you search for?’ she asked.
‘A door. Deortha told me our path of escape would begin here, at his chambers.’
‘The sorcerer has betrayed us,’ Launceston snarled, glancing back.
‘Deortha keeps his secrets well,’ Jenny said. ‘With him, nothing ever lies in plain sight.’
Will weighed her words. After a moment he snatched a sizzling torch from the wall and reflected its ruddy light with the obsidian mirror. Lines of silver filigree glimmered on the basalt: stars, a moon, a sun, a host of magical symbols of the kind he had only ever seen before in Dee’s shadowy chamber in the Black Gallery. And there, at the centre of them, the faint outline of an arched door shimmered. Handing the mirror and torch to Grace, Will pressed round the edge of the shape until he heard a click and the hidden door slid open.
The spies dragged their prisoner into the dark space. It was not a moment too soon. The tumult crashed against the edge of the courtyard as the door whispered shut behind them. His hand trembling, his face pale, Carpenter levelled his rapier, ready to repel any who followed. Shrieks and cries rang through the stone wall, but after a moment they began to pass by. Carpenter exhaled, his shoulders sagging as his blade fell.
Will took the torch and held it high to reveal a flight of stone steps disappearing down into the dark. As they paused to catch their breath, Grace could contain herself no longer. She threw her arms round Jenny, burying her face in her sister’s shoulder. Awkward and unsure, Jenny’s hands wavered over the younger woman for a moment before she returned the embrace.
‘Do you know me yet?’ Grace said between juddering sobs. ‘My heart will break if you remain a stranger. So long have I yearned for your return.’
Jenny held her sister’s tear-streaked face between her hands and gazed into the young girl’s eyes. Her brow cleared, and she smiled. ‘I remember holding a little girl’s hand as we searched for wild flowers in the wood. And telling stories under the covers when we were supposed to be asleep.’ She stroked the centre of her forehead. ‘I thought it a dream, insubstantial. But now I see you here, the visions grow clearer by the moment.’
As she pulled back, Grace bit her lip. ‘I feared you dead. Oh, I lost faith, Jenny. Only Will . . .’ She choked back the words. ‘Will never lost his belief that you would return to us. Even in the darkest days, he kept a candle in
