The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,75
Those black glass eyes lay upon him, heavy with judgement, he was sure. And then he realized that Jenny was speaking to him, her voice insistent, and when he turned he saw worry in her features. She was telling him not to go on, to turn back, forget everything, live life, for the west was where the dead went. Turn back. Turn back.
The world skewed and shadows rushed out from those dark woods to swallow him. When his head had finished spinning, he somehow knew it was the night of Jenny’s disappearance. He had spent hours searching the lanes and fields around her home, desperation, then fear, then grief, burning a hole in his chest. No sign of her anywhere; no sign of her ever again in Arden. And he was washing his hands by the well, washing furiously to rid himself of the stain, but he knew that it would never go, that it lay deeper than flesh. He was changed for ever. No longer William Swyfte the poet, with a fine career ahead of him after he departed the debating halls of Cambridge University. No longer innocent. And then he turned, as he had, and Grace was there, little Grace, pleading for news of her missing sister. He tried to hide his hands so she would not see. He tried—
Rough hands were shaking him awake.
His eyes snapped open and he peered into Strangewayes’ face as the spy loomed over him in an excited state, his fists gripping Will’s shirt. ‘Come,’ he urged with passion. ‘Come.’ Shaking the last of the dark dream from his head, Will staggered after the other man. His heart beat faster when he saw Tobias dash into the captain’s cabin. Inside, Grace was sitting up in her berth, her head in her hands, her lank hair falling across her face. When she looked round as the two men entered she appeared baffled and Will feared the worst, her wits burned away by the searing touch of the Unseelie Court. His breath caught in his throat. Yet after a moment she forced a weak smile and said, ‘You both look so troubled! What is wrong?’
Relief flooded Will. ‘You gave us a scare, Grace,’ he said, beaming. ‘You have been a bundle of trouble as long as I have known you.’
She rolled her eyes and sniffed. ‘Men call a woman trouble when she does not dance to their tune. I am proud to be so described.’
The two men laughed, their moods lightening for the first time in days. Will knelt beside Grace and tested her memory and her wits with several questions. She answered every one clearly, her puzzlement moving to annoyance until finally she told him she had had enough of being mothered. Promising he would explain everything to her soon, he insisted she rest and build up her strength, for there were more tribulations ahead.
Outside the cabin door, he closed his eyes and put his head back, letting his relief show. ‘Never would I have hoped for such an outcome,’ he breathed.
‘It seems Grace is stronger than you think,’ Strangewayes said, his voice hard. ‘You see the little girl you first knew. But she has grown into a woman as courageous as any man.’
‘In that, you are correct. I have misjudged her. When she has regained her strength, I will reveal all she needs to know about the Unseelie Court and their foul ways.’
‘Do not expect forgiveness,’ Strangewayes said. ‘This time we were fortunate, but Grace should never have been placed in that danger.’ He stalked away before Will could respond.
The night drew on, and on. Will climbed up to the forecastle and watched the shore, feeling unease begin to replace his jubilation. When footsteps drew near, he turned. Men slept on the decks under the lit lamps. Courtenay strode past them, his brow furrowed, and the spy knew he was not alone in his worries. ‘The sun should have been up long ago,’ Bloody Jack said, eyeing the full moon and the milky sweep of stars as he neared, ‘yet this night stays and stays. How much longer are we to be tormented by strangeness?’
‘It is a strange world, captain, and an island where night outstays its welcome is not the worst thing in it.’
Courtenay shrugged. Vertiginous seas and blood-crazed pirates were as nothing to him, but Will could see that the unnatural dark troubled him deeply. ‘Well, we can’t sit here waiting till Doomsday,’ the captain muttered. ‘I’ll assemble the shore party.