The Devil's Looking-Glass - By Mark Chadbourn Page 0,95
male could fail to be entranced by Meg, he laughed to himself, and even this wild beast danced to her tune.
As a tumult of rending and tearing, howls and shrieks erupted, the three spies tumbled from the chamber. ‘Your surprises always come with a sting in the tail, Mistress O’Shee,’ Will murmured.
‘You can thank me later, my sweet,’ she replied, ‘and fulsomely, I would hope. But let us not tarry here. Fierce though the Mooncalf is, I fear he is still no match for a pack of those predators.’ A shadow crossed her face, and Will thought he glimpsed there a hint of regret, or guilt, that she had sent the beast to its doom. Perhaps her heart was not as hard as she liked to pretend.
Carpenter and Launceston hauled the barely conscious Strangewayes to his feet and the five spies made their way down the steps to the mirror maze, each trying to shut out the awful sounds – as if a bear were being set upon by a pack of dogs – coming from the chamber above.
‘Fear not for Dr Dee,’ Will told the others. ‘He has gone on ahead, safe and sane, I would hope.’ But as they passed the final looking glass, he grabbed Red Meg’s hand and slowed her descent. ‘What was that creature?’ he asked.
The Irish spy looked away, her voice but a whisper. ‘The captain of our ship, transformed by Dee’s deviltry to be his servant when first we washed up on these shores.’
Now Will thought he understood her dismay. What suffering had that man endured, should his wits have remained in his new misshapen form? And what corresponding monster lurked in Dee’s heart that he was capable of such a thing?
Launceston caught his arm. ‘We have an opportunity here,’ he breathed. ‘Our Enemy are engaged at the summit of this tower. It would be good if they could not leave. I have little stomach for nigh-on three months of sea battles all the way back to England.’
Will understood the Earl’s mind. He turned to Meg and asked, ‘Would there be such a thing as a powder store in this place?’
She smiled.
Down winding steps and into the dank cellars, they ran in her wake. And in the lowest point where water pooled and rats as big as cats ran from the light, she threw open a door to release the bitter reek of powder. Six barrels stood by one wall. ‘Where they came from, I do not know,’ Meg said. ‘Many things were left behind by whoever occupied this place before us.’
‘’Twill suffice,’ Will said with a grin. He nodded to Carpenter and Launceston, who found a chest containing ample fuse. Once they had laid a long strand, Will took out his flint. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘let us see how hot those devils like their Hell.’
CHAPTER FORTY
WILL AND THE other spies raced from the door at the foot of the tower into the blustery night. The rain had stopped, but the encircling trees thrashed in the gale. As they splashed through pools of rainwater, the spies saw torches dancing in the dark along the edge of the courtyard ahead of them. Will caught a momentary glimpse of Dee sweeping towards the lights. Courtenay’s voice boomed out: ‘Finish off those dead bastards. Hack them to pieces.’ Swords rose and fell, glinting in the flickering light. Without the help of the Fay, the remainder of the ghastly pirate crew didn’t stand a chance.
‘Take cover,’ Will yelled as he ran. The captain and the crew gaped. Waving his hand to force them away, he shouted again, and this time the men scattered beyond the lip of the courtyard. When Meg struggled to keep up in her skirts, Will swept her into his arms without missing a step.
‘How dashing a protector,’ she teased, flicking her hair away from her face.
‘Even in the face of death, Meg?’
‘Especially then.’
As they reached the edge of the courtyard, the night cracked in two. Fire blazed across the sky, the earth shook and the thunderous explosion sounded like a hundred cannon. The force of the blast flung the spies down the incline from the courtyard. Chunks of masonry rained about them. Ahead of a wave of smoke and dust, fire-flakes of wood and parchment spun by.
Coughing, Will staggered to his feet, throwing one arm against his face as protection against the choking fog. He found Meg, leaning dazed against a tree, and dropped beside her, taking her slender hand. He felt his