The sun caught the stone, making a thousand rainbows dance on the walls. Susanna lifted the piece out and the diamond covered the whole of her palm; the pear-shaped pearl dangling below it caressed her wrist, smooth as silk.

She lifted her eyes and caught Parker's gaze. He saluted her with a tip of his head, and she smiled back at him.

Dumbstruck, Wyatt opened his mouth, closed it again, and then sank to the floor on his knees. "How? How did you puzzle it out?"

"Jens left a clue on this inventory." Susanna set the jewel back into its box. "It was in French, and I only realized later what it could mean."

"What did it say?"

"Chased piece, 136."

"I saw that." Wyatt pulled himself to his feet. "I thought he was talking about an engraved piece." He dusted his knees. "As was his intention."

Parker held out his hands and Susanna placed the casket in them.

"What will you do now?" Wyatt looked at the small box as if it were a snake. "Wolsey cannot be called to account for this. It never left the Jewel Tower."

"I will take it to the King." Parker snapped the lid shut.

"And then? Wolsey will get away with this." Wyatt ran hands through his already wild hair, making it stand more on end. It caught the light and he looked like some wild sprite, elemental and beautiful. Susanna was suddenly sure his poetry was magnificent.

"Not if I can help it." Since last night, the shutters had come down over Parker's eyes and darkness seemed to swirl around him.

She had seen him like this before, and she knew the signs.

He was about to wreak havoc.

Anticipation hummed through Parker as the sailboat navigated downriver from Westminster to Bridewell.

The casket was nestled on Susanna's lap. Wolsey would likely flee the room if he saw what Parker was bringing for the King today.

And Norfolk ... Well, Norfolk would need to be handled carefully.

The boatman let out a little more sail and they flew faster on the water. He caught Parker watching him and grinned.

Parker heard the buzz of vibration as something flew through the air past his ear. In a soundless movement, the boatman let go of the ropes and fell into the water, a bolt through his eye.

Parker twisted to see Jean cranking the next bolt into his bow. He stood dangerously forward in a boat behind them, balancing himself with a foot against the prow, ready to take aim again.

"Hold the casket over the water."

Susanna dragged her gaze from the spot where the boatman floated in the river and lifted shocked eyes to his.

"The casket-hold it out over the side of the boat!"

She scrambled to the edge of the boat and thrust the casket out, holding it with both hands. The weight of it took her by surprise again and it dipped dangerously low to the water. She lifted it a little higher.

Parker turned to see if Jean had gotten the message, and saw he had. The assassin had lifted his crossbow so it was pointing to the sky.

"You found it." His words carried across the water.

His voice was filled with wonder, and Parker realized Jean hadn't known they had found the Mirror until now. He had come to kill them.

"Shoot either one of us, and Susanna drops the casket into the Thames."

Jean set his bow in the boat behind him and lifted both hands. "I will not shoot." He sat and his boat kept pace with theirs, to the right and slightly back.

"What now?" Susanna pitched her voice low.

"Now he thinks he has only to wait for us to land, before that crossbow is in his hands again." Parker took up the ropes of the boat and trimmed the sail, trying to remember the tricks he had learned in his youth.

Susanna drew the casket in. "This is heavy." She sat right up against the side of the boat and put the small wooden box in her lap. "What do we do about Jean?"

The wind tugged back against his hold on the ropes, and the boat surged forward. It was an old boat but well made, and it seemed to skim just above the water, rather than on top of it.

"The tide is out." Parker pulled the sail again. "That means the bridge will be unpassable."

"So we are trapped. We have to dock at Old Swan, and Jean knows it." Susanna spoke calmly, and he was struck again by her courage.

He watched her, grim. "Not if we shoot the bridge."

She did not answer him, and turned away toward the left bank. Bridewell was coming up around the bend, their original destination, but Jean would have a bolt through each of them and the casket in his hand if they tried to dock there. It was too crowded and busy for a quick getaway.

At last Susanna swung back, her face set. "We shoot the bridge, then."

He nodded. Turning his head to check where Jean and his boatman were, he saw they were gaining a little.

The bow was in Jean's hands, and Parker frowned. What was the Frenchman up to?

He understood when the first bolt went through the sail. Jean was trying to slow them down. After the first shock of realizing they had the Mirror, he had had a chance to think. And he knew they were as unwilling to see the Mirror in the Thames as he was.

"Sit low." His call to Susanna came just as another bolt sliced through the sail, punching a hole through the middle of it.

Susanna slipped off the bench onto the boat bottom and balanced the casket on the edge of the boat. A nice reminder to Jean of their advantage in this. Then she lowered it over the side, and skimmed it on top of the water.

Parker had to stop himself from calling to her to bring it back up.

"Stop!" Jean's eyes were on the casket. He set the bow down again, and then lifted his gaze to Susanna. Parker saw a look pass between them.

There was a respect in Jean's eyes; determination in the set of Susanna's mouth.

They were coming up to Queenhithe now, the dock busy with the loading and unloading of grain, and up ahead, a line of boats waiting out the low tide.

This low on the river, Parker could see the churn and ripple of water at the bridge arches, and he wondered what the drop would be. Last time he'd shot the bridge, it had been a man's height-but an experienced boatman had taken him through.

Susanna's face was composed. She was ready for what was to come. She had the casket on her lap again, clutched with both hands.

"You come before that damned jewel." He risked a look behind him to check Jean's progress, then back. "Don't hold on to it if it means you won't be safe."

She nodded, and looked over her shoulder to see the bridge coming up. The boats waiting the tide out were clustered to the left, near Old Swan, and Parker swung the boat right to go around them.

The tension in the ropes was more flaccid since Jean had put two holes through the sail, but the boat still moved sweet and true through the water. Parker heard calls and whistles from the boatmen as they rounded the little fleet, then cries of alarm as they headed straight for the arches.

"Wait!" Jean's shout carried over the hiss and roar of the churning water coming up, and Parker twisted on the bench toward him.

The assassin had his bow in his hand, and deliberately dropped it into the water. "Don't do it. I won't shoot."

Too late.

The current gripped the craft and spun it, and Susanna cried out as she was thrown across the boat.

The box flew from her hands, sailing over the side.

As they were sucked through the arch he heard a scream, and the last thing he saw before the darkness of the tunnel was Jean leaping into the Thames.

37.

Because the King of France would have made a thousand excuses, and the others would have raised a thousand fears.

-Machiavelli, The Prince, chapter 25 Hell was noise and wet and darkness, with an inexorable force hauling them through the long arch toward the light at the end.

Susanna's hair flew about her face as they shot through the water.

"Brace!"

Parker's call was unnecessary. She was on the floor of the boat, gripping the bench so tight her hands ached. She lifted her head as the vessel went airborne, saw the foam and the spray all around her.

The boat dropped, smacking down hard on the water. The floor vibrated under the blow, shaking her like a leaf in an autumn wind.

The front dipped, held there a moment ... and then rose up again. The current turned them in a slow and lazy pirouette, once, twice, until Parker had control of the craft again.

In silence, he took them to the closest dock and helped her off.

There in broad daylight, he bent his head and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth; holding her close and tight.

Her legs were weak and she let him hold her up.

"I am sorry that after all that, we lost the Mirror." He twined his fingers through her hair.

She looked up. "I hope not."

"It flew from your hand-"

Shaking her head, she fumbled for her money pouch. "The box flew from my hand." She lifted up the Mirror, glittering and dazzling in its brilliance. "This didn't."

For safekeeping Parker sent Susanna to Bridewell, into the nest of vipers, where they would least likely expect her. Hiding her in plain sight.

There were many things to accomplish, and too many powerful men who meant her harm.

She took her paints, and Gertrude Courtenay met her in the Queen's outer chambers.

"The princess is here today, so the Queen hopes you can begin to paint her picture."

Susanna curtsied and waved Parker farewell, but he didn't leave until he saw her safely escorted into the Queen's inner rooms.

The Mirror weighed heavily in the inside pocket of his cloak, and he moved toward the King's chambers with the knife up his sleeve loosened and ready.

Wolsey had left the palace that morning, he had been told, and Parker could only think it was a strategic retreat.

He could prove nothing against Wolsey, and Wolsey knew that.

But the Cardinal could run as far and as fast as he liked. Parker clenched a fist. He would make certain Wolsey paid his account in this.

The guards at the Privy Chamber fell back and opened the door for him, and Parker strode into the room. It was full of courtiers, milling and sniping, but the King was not present.

"He's in his closet." Will Somers peered at Parker as if inspecting a strange new creature. Then the Fool put a hand on his arm. "I saw your lady the other night. Is she well?"

"Well enough." He pulled his arm back, but Somers kept his grip.

"She did not look well at the time, and I would warn you that after she left, the Duke of Norfolk began all manner of whispers about her."

Parker cut his gaze to the corner where he'd noticed Norfolk earlier, and saw the Duke was watching him. Watching the exchange. "So I heard."

"Ah? You know?" Somers dropped his hand and smiled, the gleefully evil smile of a gargoyle. "I look forward to your retaliation."

Parker did not bother with an answer. He dismissed Norfolk with a jerk of his head and made for the closet. Somers's chuckle followed him.

The guards at the closet looked set to deny him, but at the last moment opened the door. Parker stepped into the room and stood just within, and saw the King sitting with his secretary.

He seemed pleased with the interruption.

"News, Parker?"

"Aye."

Henry waved the secretary out, and when they were alone, Parker reached into his pocket and drew out the Mirror.