country but to you personally. What more do I have to do to prove myself?”
Seeing how distressed he was, I forgot my caution and laid my hand on his. “I didn’t mean to question your loyalty. I was just hoping that you might remember some small detail that could help us now. Or that you might have heard some rumor from your alchemist friends—”
“I have no such friends.” He clasped my hand, his dark eyes fervent. “Not anymore. I swear to you that I’ve turned my back on the art forever. You must believe me.”
“I do, Gabriel. I do.” I released his hand, but he didn’t let me go.
“I don’t think you understand how I feel.” His eyes turned soulful. “Chantress—”
Behind us a library door flew open. As I pulled away from Gabriel and spun around, young Barrington galloped into the room like a stallion on the loose.
“Come quickly, Chantress! We’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Bright-eyed and panting, he gave me a brilliant smile. “We’ve found something.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BEHIND THE VEIL
The “something” my men had found turned out to be a woman.
“We haven’t taken her in yet.” Captain Knollys’s voice rang out robustly in the confines of the guardroom, but he stopped short when he caught sight of Gabriel, who had followed me down.
At a nod from me, he accepted Gabriel’s presence and went on. “The scouts say she’s what you’re looking for—a wise woman with a reputation for working water magic. Keeps herself pretty much out of sight, but we’ve tracked down where she lives, in rooms right by the river.”
“People call her a miracle-worker,” Barrington added. “They pay fees for her help.”
“And there’s talk of some odd rituals, too,” Knollys said. “Riverside offerings and suchlike. Melisande’s the name she goes by.”
That took me by surprise. “Melisande” was said to be another name for Melusine. Maybe there was a Chantress connection here after all.
“Do you want us to bring her in?” Knollys asked. “Or do you want to go there yourself?”
“I’ll go.” I’d learn more that way. And if it was magic she was using—whatever it might be—then I didn’t want my men facing her without me.
Leaning languidly against a stone wall, Gabriel had listened to Knollys in silence. Now he turned to me and spoke. “I’ll go with you.”
I hesitated, not sure this was wise. Perhaps he saw my doubts, for he continued, “In fact, you could send me in first. I could pretend to be someone seeking her services. That would put her off her guard.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” Knollys looked at Gabriel with new appreciation. “Might be a better chance of taking her by surprise that way.”
I had to agree. “It’s worth considering.”
Barrington glanced at Gabriel, clearly annoyed at him for stealing the limelight. “I could do it, Chantress. Send me.”
I shook my head. An actor Barrington was not. His open face revealed every emotion he felt. But Gabriel had the gift of theater; I knew he could pull off a role with aplomb.
“I want you in the crew that surrounds the house,” I said to Barrington. “I need you ready to fight.” Raising my voice, I spoke to the men ranged behind him as well. “But you all must keep back and well out of sight until Lord Gabriel and I have gone inside.”
“I thought I was going in alone,” Gabriel said.
“I have a better idea,” I told him.
And so we made our plans.
My men had reported that Melisande lived in the darkest part of the filthiest alley in the disreputable riverside neighborhood of St. Katharine’s—and they hadn’t been lying. When Gabriel and I finally reached the place, he rapped on the door and winced as he stepped on something repulsive with his once immaculate boots. Behind him, I was grateful for the gauzy scarves and oversize hood that covered most of my face. They had been meant solely as a disguise, but they helped screen out a little of the smell. The whole alley was full of stinking trash and scraps, and the rainwater that pooled everywhere was turning them into a foul-smelling stew.
A flap in the door opened up at eye level. Through my scarves, I caught the scent of magic—teasingly brief and faint.
If I’d had my godmother’s keen nose, I might well have been able to identify the type and source of magic from that single whiff. I wasn’t Lady Helaine, however, and for me the smell was impossible to categorize. All I could tell was that magic of some sort