Edward swallowed. “Sounds like I’m going to France,” he said lightly, but his heart was beating fast. “When do I leave?”
Bess bit her lip. “I want you to rest a few days more. Gather your strength. You’re going to need it.”
“Can’t we send someone to retrieve Jane?”
“Who would we send? Gran?” Bess shook her head.
“Gran’s not a terrible idea.”
“I know Jane is dear to you,” Bess said. “I also know that she’s in danger. But Jane is one person, Edward. There are thousands of lives at stake. There’s a kingdom on the edge of a knife. We must tread carefully.”
He sighed. On the map, London was just a finger’s length from Helmsley. But Jane was very far away.
“Very well,” he said tersely. “A few more days, and I’ll depart for France.” He rose from the chair, crossed to the window, and slung his leg up onto the sill. He wanted to be a bird now. Then he could fly away to Jane. To at least tell her that he hadn’t forgotten her. That he was coming for her, even if it took longer than he meant to.
Bess slipped out of the room behind him, closing the door.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. The sky overhead was blue and beckoning, but he resisted its call. “I’m sorry, Jane.” A wave of melancholy overtook him. “Oh, Janey, where are you?”
TWENTY
Jane
Jane, as it happened, was fleeing for her life.
After escaping the city, they’d started in . . . some direction. Still in her ferret state, Jane clung to Gifford’s shoulder while he rode their stolen horse out of London as fast as they could go. Pet ran on ahead of them, leading the way. To where, Jane couldn’t tell.
It was away from Mary’s soldiers; that was all that mattered.
The roads would be the first place anyone would look, so they diverted into the forest. The hooves of their stolen steed beat the ground in a relentless tempo. Hounds bayed in the distance, making Pet lift her nose to the wind. It seemed their pursuers gained on them. Jane huddled in the curve of Gifford’s neck, terrified and exhausted, as they veered here and there, lost in the dark, dark night.
Gifford hunched lower over the horse. Jane scrambled to adjust her weight, but he scooped her up and held her against his chest. “I have a plan,” he said.
Wonderful. Jane loved plans.
He glanced down at her. “It’s a good plan. I think.”
Jane bit him—not hard—urging him to just get it out.
“Shortly, the sun will rise and I will begin my daily departure from my two-legged self to my four-legged self, and then we will be able to move more quickly. I’ll send my equine friend here off on another path to create a diversion. Meanwhile, you will remain in your ferrety form and I will carry you . . . somewhere safe.”
Jane cocked her head. It wasn’t a terrible plan (although it was a tad vague), but what about Horse Rule 3? (No riding the horse.)
Gifford shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking, dear, but now’s not the time for such rules. We need to be fast. You weigh next to nothing in this form. As long as we can find a way to secure you to me without the use of those magnificent claws, I’ll be able to run at top speed.”
That sounded good to Jane.
“Excellent,” said Gifford. “I’m glad we’re agreed.”
They careened down a narrow deer trail. The minutes stretched like hours. With the trees growing tall and ancient all around them, it was difficult to track the moon and stars. But eventually the woods lightened to a soft purple, and birds began to sing, and Jane felt herself breathe more easily. This terrible night was almost over, and she’d survived it. They were still being hunted down like dogs, sure. But things never seemed as bad in the light of day.
Gifford called to Pet and reined in the horse.
They were just slowing to a trot when Jane changed.
One instant, she was a ferret, cupped in Gifford’s hand and pressed against his chest. The next, she was engulfed in a blinding white light and then she was a girl, sitting sideways on the saddle with her legs hanging off one side, and she was most definitely naked.
Their stolen horse snorted and stopped, disgusted with the sudden weight of two people.
“Jane! This wasn’t part of the plan!” Gifford untied his cloak and threw it