Sir Barnaby jabbed his cane at a bit of the broken barrel. “If you ask me, it’s a pack of nonsense. She was lying to you, Chantress. Just as she lied about choking and dying.”
Had she been lying about the gag? I still wasn’t sure. And the vicious words of warning had felt like the unvarnished truth. “It didn’t feel like a lie.”
“You were fooled before,” Sir Barnaby said.
To that, I had no good answer, except perhaps to mention the faint song I’d heard, so powerful and so full of ill will. But then I was unsure of that, too. I’d heard it for only a moment, and it was hard to remember now exactly how it had sounded, still less why it had put me in mind of a Chantress. Most likely it was more mermaid magic—and Sir Barnaby was right to point out that I’d been taken in by that before.
Before anyone could say anything more, the King intervened. “Well, whatever the truth of the matter, it seems that no one is drowning now, for which we should all be thankful. Captain Ellis, I am sure you and Dr. Verney will want to stay with your ship, but I suggest that the rest of you come with me now to Greenwich Palace. We will discuss this again in the morning.”
The King spoke with a finality that kept even Captain Ellis from contradicting him. Orders went out that the ship’s tender should be readied to bring us to the landing.
The Lord High Admiral shot a doubtful look at me as we boarded the tender. “Well, it’s a shame the creature got away from you, that’s all I can say. And there was one who escaped earlier too, wasn’t there? So that’s two of them on the loose. They could be anywhere by now.”
I thought of Lady Gillian. That episode wasn’t something I could keep to myself now, though I’d do my best not to bring Sybil into it. “I’m afraid there may be one in London,” I told the others. “At twilight today, someone reported an odd creature swimming near the Whitehall landing. It may have been nothing, but now I wonder . . .”
“By Whitehall?” The King looked alarmed, and so did the others.
The Lord High Admiral looked thunder at me as I sat down across from him. “You didn’t investigate?”
“No. At the time, it wasn’t a priority.” I wasn’t going to explain why. “Of course, now I wish I had.”
The Lord High Admiral narrowed his eyes. “I should think so. Quite an oversight, I must say.”
Perhaps the others were merely busy finding their seats—Nat sat down in one well away from me—but no one came to my defense. And I couldn’t defend myself without implicating Sybil.
Fortunately, Sir Samuel was only too happy to take advantage of my silence. Seated on the other side of the Lord High Admiral, he started conversing with him about the best way to defend London and the navy against this new threat.
As the oarsmen set out for Greenwich Palace, the others joined in the discussion. While they talked about the best way to procure earplugs and issue them to seamen, I kept quiet and looked out at the river. No matter how hard I listened, I could hear no sign of the mermaid. Nor could I hear anything of the strange force that had protected her.
When we reached the palace, the King asked to see any dispatches from London. We were all relieved to hear there were no reports of anything that could possibly be construed as mermaid magic. Heaving learned this, the King seemed disinclined to work into the small hours. At any rate, he didn’t want to work with me. When I offered to stay, he said, “No, no. You’ve done a great deal already. I expect you could use a rest.”
His expression was kind, and I had to assume his concern for me was genuine. Yet I noticed he stayed back to have a word with Nat and Sir Barnaby. Worried and confused and tired out from the magic I’d done, I said good night and left them.
The room assigned to me was a fine one. A maidservant had already laid the fire, and she returned to set down a tray of pastries and cold beef to tempt my appetite. But I could not seem to settle. Instead of eating, I stood by the oriel window that looked out over the Thames, just listening and listening.