The Admiral gave a curt nod. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
The King frowned. “Whatever you wish to say to me can be said to her as well. There are no secrets between us.”
“I’m not so sure of that, Your Majesty,” the Admiral growled. “She let the mermaid escape, didn’t she? And now another captive of hers has slipped the net. And there’s some strange talk at Court and in the city—”
“Enough.” The King silenced him. “I trust the Chantress absolutely. You will speak before us both.”
It was a stirring defense, and I deeply appreciated it, but the Admiral remained stubbornly silent. Glancing around, I saw that he wasn’t alone in doubting me. Some of the clerks and secretaries were watching me with suspicion. They might not be holding up crosses, but they’d been swayed by the gossip about me.
Insisting that the Admiral speak in front of me would not help my cause. I curtsied to the King. “You are very kind, Your Majesty,” I said, “but I must ask your leave to go. I have much to attend to.”
I wasn’t sure the King would accept this, but after a moment he nodded. “Very well. We are grateful for all you are doing to defend us, Chantress.” As I left, he called after me, “Please take care. We would all be lost without you.”
I nodded because he expected me to. But I knew it would take more than being careful to defeat our enemy—and to prove to all the doubters that I really was on their side.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
FLOOD TIDE
I meant to do another round of scrying that night, and then hunt up Gabriel, talk to Captain Knollys, and look for Nat again. But as soon as I opened the door again on my dark and cluttered rooms, exhaustion and grief washed over me. It had been a hard day by any reckoning—and the hardest part had been what had happened with Nat.
Was there any way to fix things between us? I wanted to believe there was, but I wasn’t sure. Some things couldn’t be unsaid. Some things couldn’t be mended. And maybe this was one of them.
I pushed the door shut behind me, desolate to my bones.
A rest, that was what I needed. I let myself lie down on one of the mattresses. Only for a minute, and then I’ll build a fire and find a bowl for scrying.
The next thing I knew, Norrie was shaking me awake, touching her hand to my iron bracelet. “Lucy, you need to get up.” Her voice was full of alarm. “The waters are rising.”
I blinked. The room was still dark, but the sky outside was deep gray, not black. Pushing myself up from the mattress, I tried to slough off sleep. “The river’s rising?”
“Since sometime after midnight,” Norrie said. “Slowly at first, but faster and faster now. It’s come up at least two feet in all, and it shows no sign of stopping. And here it is Allhallows’ Eve. Not a good omen, that.”
“What time is it now?”
“Just before six. The order’s just gone out—we have to leave Whitehall.”
I was fully awake now. “They can’t hold the palace?”
“No. And they may not be able to hold the rest of the riverfront, either,” Norrie said somberly. “Already Whitehall is practically an island, and it’s only going to get worse from here. We all have to go to higher ground.”
And here I’d been sleeping all this time. Hurriedly I smoothed back my hair and shook out my gown.
“Nat’s the one who’s organizing us all,” Norrie said. “It’s like moving a mountain, but he’s doing it.”
I winced. Merely hearing Nat’s name was enough to bring the pain rushing back.
Fortunately, Norrie didn’t see. Turning away, she grabbed a basket from the top of a pile and started stuffing it with clothes, candles, and other necessaries. “I came here to get a few things before we left,” she told me. “They want to move the refugees up to Marylebone, and they’ve asked the Queen and me to go with them. We have to leave right away. I didn’t know you’d be here; I thought you’d already gone. Someone said you’d left earlier, with the King and Sir Barnaby.”
“No. I saw the King late last night, but I had things I needed to do here.” And I’d left them all undone—the scrying, seeing Gabriel and Captain Knollys and Nat.
I looked up to find Norrie looking back at me. “Child, are you all right? Do