The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,37

threat to surface in his eyes.

‘She deserves to know the truth. No stories for children. No false comforts. Tell her, so she can put her thoughts in order if we do not return—’

‘I said silence.’ Will flicked the tip of his rapier to Strangewayes’ throat. ‘You are young. You have only just learned the secret knowledge that we share, the knowledge that can destroy good-minded people.’

‘I have considered this matter greatly while at prayer. Grace is strong enough.’

Will dug the tip of the blade deeper, raising a bubble of blood. ‘You think you are doing her a kindness, but it is only cruelty. I say one final time, silence.’

‘Very well. But now it is my turn to say goodbye.’

Will watched the other man’s face. He wondered briefly if it wouldn’t be simpler to kill him there and then, but then Grace took his wrist and gently eased his sword away. ‘He will not tell me your secrets, dear Will,’ she murmured. ‘I will not allow him to.’

Will held her gaze for a long moment. He felt a deep affection, and only wanted her to be happy. He thought that perhaps she understood. Putting up his sword, he walked away without another word. In the shadows at the end of the corridor, he glanced back. Strangewayes held her in an embrace, whispering in her ear. He was not the man Will would have chosen for her, but he loved her, and at that moment, that seemed enough.

Back at the jetty, Carpenter and Launceston argued, pacing around each other like dogs preparing to fight. They grew silent when they saw Will and clambered into the wherry, where a lantern glowed on a pole in the prow. Carpenter eyed the water with unease. The Earl hummed tunelessly as he selected an oar. A moment later, Strangewayes joined them in sullen silence, flashing one unguarded look at Will as he found a place beneath the lantern. He pulled the hood of his cloak up and kept his head down.

‘Take us out into the current,’ Will said, ‘but have a care as we ride the fast water at the bridge. A dip will bring more than a chill to our bones.’

‘Do you lie awake at night searching for increasingly elaborate ways to kill us?’ Carpenter grumbled, undoing the rope tied to the quayside ring. He grasped another oar and pushed the wherry out into the flow.

‘My intention is to keep your days interesting, John.’ Will crouched in the bottom of the wherry and peered into the dark water.

The bank faded into the fog. As the grey enveloped them, the lapping of the river grew muffled and distorted. Will cocked his head and looked around, but he could neither see nor hear any sign of the greatest city in Europe. They could have been alone in all England, drifting through a wilderness.

Carpenter and Launceston heaved slow, measured strokes, each man watching the point where his blade dipped into the river as if he expected the oar to be torn from his grasp.

When they had moved downstream in silence for a few moments, Strangewayes wrenched to one side and pointed. ‘There!’

Will felt an eddy that rocked the wherry.

‘’Twas the length of a seal at least,’ Strangewayes said with unease. ‘Perhaps larger still. I saw grey skin just break the surface.’

‘There too.’ Launceston pointed on the other side of the boat. ‘It swims fast, to circle us so quickly.’

‘No,’ Will said, looking around. ‘Not one. Many. See.’

In the circle of lantern-light round the prow, they saw repeated rapid movement at the surface. The wherry rocked more vigorously. All around, the sound of splashing echoed.

‘They are like salmon at spawn,’ Carpenter said. ‘Have we disturbed them in our passing?’

‘Not fish,’ Strangewayes whispered, leaning back.

Will moved to the prow and leaned over the edge. Grey shapes flashed past, arching their bodies and rolling near the surface before diving down. He fixed his gaze until one passed in front of him. He saw a face that was human in shape, though longer and thinner than most men’s, with hollow cheeks and huge, lidless eyes. Straggly hair, like seaweed, streamed down from the top of the skull-like head. Yet it was the mouth that burned in Will’s mind: lipless, with two rows of needle-sharp teeth forming a permanent grimace.

Sharp enough to tear off a man’s hand, he thought.

The skin was pale, merging into mottled grey. And as the unearthly creature darted from view, he caught a glimpse of an eel-like lower body