Perfect Shadows - By Siobhan Burke Page 0,150

prison, with the blade of the axe turned towards them. “Tell me, Kit, when did you make the exchange with the earl?” he added at the end of his tale, his voice suddenly stern.

“Essex? But I’ve never even—” I began, but Geoffrey interrupted impatiently.

“A fine waste of time that would be! No, I meant my Lord Southampton. He’s tasted of the blood somewhere, and that more than once. You can see it working in him, and I wondered, for you knew that I had advised against it,” he said.

I raised a hand to my lower lip, and nodded thoughtfully. “He seems to have a taste for it,” I said, and told him how Hal had licked the blood from my wounds more than once, but only a few drops at a time.

“Probably means nothing, then,” he said. “No doubt it will be resolved in time, but try to keep him from it, if you can.”

“Why?” Geoffrey turned sharply on me at the question, and I flinched in spite of myself. When he seemed satisfied that it was a simple request for information, and not a flaunting of his command, he answered.

“It can act like a drug upon mortals, conveying some of the advantages of the full exchange, but not perfectly, and only temporarily. It is best not to foster such a need,” he said, and took his leave. I thought about what he had said, and decided to make an attempt to see Hal that night.

To my surprise I found Cecil arriving at the Tower at the same time. The Earl of Essex had sent for the secretary, to tell him the truth, he said, about the conspiracy. The little man eyed me speculatively for a moment, then allowed me to enter, requesting an interview at a later time. The scene was much the same, except that Hal was clean, and his candles were plentiful and made of wax. He looked up from the book resting on the table before him, his eyes flashing and a smile flitting across his drawn face as he saw me. I could see the change that Geoffrey had mentioned: the feverish light in his eyes and the hectic spots of color on his cheeks. Suddenly, without a word, Hal threw himself from the chair and into my arms. “I hadn’t thought that they would allow me visitors,” he said raggedly. “You must be paying out a fortune in bribes.” I held him a moment before settling him back on his stool at the table.

“I met Cecil at the gate, and from what I overheard Essex will be spinning him a pretty tale even now; he said I might see you, and I expect that he will be along here when he is finished with Devereux. She said she would spare you, Hal, if you asked her,” I reminded Hal, my voice sharpening with the words. Hal nodded, smiling bitterly.

“She has said a great many things in her time,” he said. “I can still hear Buckhurst’s voice and the words of the hideous sentence pronounced upon us ringing in my ears: ‘. . . to be drawn upon a hurdle through the midst of the city, and so to the place of execution, there to be hanged by the neck and taken down alive—your bodies to be opened, and your bowels taken out and burned before your face: your bodies to be quartered—your heads and quarters to be disposed of at her Majesty’s pleasure, and so God have mercy on your souls.’ The words are branded upon my brain.” His voice was low and colorless, and his eyes had looked upon Hell. “The Queen despises me, I know. I shudder at the thought of what forms her ‘pleasure’ might take.” There was an awkward pause, and I stood abruptly.

“I shouldn’t have come. I will return when we know her majesty’s final decision, Hal. My cousin, Rózsa, is with Libby tonight, so she will be looked after.” Hal caught my hand, pulling me back.

“No, don’t go, not yet. I am glad that Libby’s not alone tonight. Will we know by morning, d’you think? I am such a coward, after all. I could have died in the fighting, with my blood up, but I cannot face dying like that.”

“You will not die like that, Hal, whatever might happen. That I do promise you,” I murmured, my lips against that burnished hair. We sat in silence for some time, and I was filled with pity for the rash

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