The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,58
careful what you wish for, Master Swyfte.’ Courtenay laughed, his eyes reflecting the crackles of lightning. Before he had even roared his orders, his men jumped to their posts, as eager to return to activity as Will. The spy watched them scramble up the lines, ready to react to any sudden change in the elements. He knew that if the storm struck hard, a full sail could tear off the mainmast and drag them all down to the bottom of the drink. Yet if they were not ready to take advantage of glancing winds, the weather could turn just as quickly and leave them becalmed once more.
He raised his head to the roiling clouds and felt the first hint of a breeze on his face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the relief.
‘Will?’
Grace waited at the top of the steps, her hands clasped in front of her. Her skirts flapped in the strengthening wind and her brown hair whipped around her face. He thought how much she had grown in confidence in recent months, no longer the young girl he had played with in Warwickshire. Yet he still saw only Jenny, in her eyes, her smile, her bearing. That had always been the problem.
‘Return to the cabin, Grace,’ he said, not without warmth. ‘It will be safer there.’
‘I shall, soon. But Tobias and John both insist that I speak to you, though neither will say why. Even Robert urged me to come, and normally he acts as if I am a dog yapping at his heels. They seem angry with you.’
Will set his jaw, wishing the others would leave well alone. ‘This is not the time, Grace, but, yes, we must have words about a matter of great importance.’
‘Is it about Jenny?’
He hesitated, watching the hope light in her dark eyes. ‘In part.’
She forced a wan smile. ‘Our friendship has been tempestuous since Jenny disappeared,’ she said. ‘We have fought and bickered, though I . . . I always looked on you fondly, Will, you know that.’
They both knew her feelings had been deeper than she implied. She was confused, he had always recognized that. In truth, she had seen him as the only pillar of stability in a world gone mad. He had felt proud to offer her the protection she needed, and he would never have abused that position. And he had always believed he could save Grace as he had been unable to save Jenny.
She seemed to sense some of the thoughts that passed through his head, for her brow furrowed. ‘I have never thanked you for all that you have done for me,’ she said, grabbing hold of the rail as the ship began to heave beneath them. ‘But more than anything, I would thank you for keeping the promise of Jenny alive when it would have been so much easier to let her go and return to your life.’
‘Jenny has always been my life,’ he replied, feeling all the pain wrapped in those few words.
‘We will talk soon,’ she said, ‘but tell me one thing before I go: do you truly believe we will ever find answers to any of the questions that have haunted us these past years?’
‘I believe we will find an ending, Grace, for good or ill. Whichever it may be, I hope there will be peace.’
That seemed to satisfy her. She gave a faint smile, then skipped down the steps and fought her way across the rolling deck. He watched her until she disappeared from sight into the captain’s cabin beneath him.
As the clouds marched overhead, the sky darkened until it felt like dusk aboard the rolling galleon. The sullen sea began to protest, low waves turning to a heaving swell the colour of old ivy. Sails boomed and the rigging cracked. The wind howled, tearing at hair grown too long and wrenching men from side to side with every step. When lightning flashed, the world turned white.
Will began to fight his way through the grim-faced sailors swirling across the deck, each one concentrating on his own well-rehearsed task. They danced to Courtenay’s tune, his orders booming like the thunder tearing through the half-light. Hands on hips, he threw his head back in insane laughter as he felt the first spatters of rain on his face.
‘This is a contest, Master Swyfte,’ he roared, ‘between men and the gods of the storm. Shall we see who wins?’ If any man could battle the elements and win, it would be Bloody Jack, Will agreed.