*This is a contest, Master Swyfte,' he roared, *between men and the G.o.ds of the storm. Shall we see who wins?' If any man could battle the elements and win, it would be b.l.o.o.d.y Jack, Will agreed. It took a madman to face a tropical storm without a flicker of fear in his heart.

The spy gripped the slick rigging as the deck bucked beneath his feet like an unbroken Barbary steed. The rain was starting to come in harder on the gusts. Wiping his eyes clear, his gaze flickered out to sea as a bolt of lightning lanced down. In the flash, he glimpsed something that should not have been there. Wrapping one arm through the rigging to steady himself, he pulled out the tele-scope and attempted to place it to his eye. The view through the lens danced across the green ocean and darkening sky. Cursing under his breath, Will moved the tele-scope in incremental steps until a dark shape appeared before him. A galleon. The grey cloud bank that had followed them across the Atlantic was dissipating in the storm, and the ship sailed out of its billowing depths like a shark. A row of white diamonds had been painted along the castle. On a standard flapping from the mainmast was a black bird a a crow, Will thought. The galleon surged towards them, sails full.

Our Enemy are revealed, Will thought, and they have skilfully chosen this moment of confusion to attack.

Cupping his hand to his mouth, he yelled for Courtenay. The captain saw the spy's urgency and bounded over. s.n.a.t.c.hing the tele-scope, he studied the ship for only a moment and then turned to Will, his features dark. *I know that flag. All sailors do, and they would sell their own mothers to avoid the misfortune of encountering it across the Spanish Main. The ship is the Corneille Noire, the cursed barque of that cut-throat Jean le Gris.'

Will knew well the b.l.o.o.d.y reputation of the French pirate who had plundered the trade routes for five years now.

*And he is not alone,' b.l.o.o.d.y Jack added, answering the spy's unspoken question. He handed the tele-scope back.

Will frowned, looking once more. This time he alighted on the galleon quickly as it bore down on them. When the crew swam into view, shock flooded him as he saw the haggard faces of the men, the hollow cheeks, the grey skin; each one looked dead apart from a tall, sinewy man with an eye-patch and a wild black beard whom he took to be the captain. Other, shadowy figures drifted in the half-light, pale spectres, like fish from the deep. Will held his breath as he watched Lansing and the Fay overseeing the ship like a court from h.e.l.l. A part of him had expected no less, but the evidence of his eyes still felt chilling.

*The question now, Master Swyfte,' Courtenay boomed, *in the middle of this G.o.dforsaken storm, is do we run like dogs and pray for the best, or stay and fight and risk a slow death in the deep?'

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE.

THE STORM ENGULFED the Tempest in a h.e.l.l of fierce wind and driving rain and walls of black water. Cresting mountainous waves, the galleon plunged into deep, midnight valleys where the sailors feared they would never see the sun again. Barbs of lightning lanced down. Booming thunder throbbed into the roar of the sea. Will clung on to the rigging for dear life, barely able to keep his legs from the deluge sluicing across the deck. He glimpsed Carpenter, and Strangewayes with one hand gripping a stay, sodden and gasping, and Launceston, seemingly unmoved by the terror of the gale, one hand twirled around the rigging as he observed the fearful antics of the crew.

Courtenay, too, looked untroubled by the elements as he barked his orders. Though the ship was tossed this way and that, he strode through the ankle-deep brine on the deck as if on dry land. *Those that can, man the guns,' he roared. *We have a fight on our hands, lads.'

Will craned his head to look over the crew with even greater respect. He knew the risks of opening the gun ports in a storm; the waves could flood in and take the ship to the bottom. But there was no choice. Putting aside their fear, seamen scrambled down to the gun deck, obeying their captain without question. Though it was h.e.l.l above, he wondered how much worse it was below in the confined night-dark s.p.a.ce, deafened by the hammers of the waves, thrown around by the pitching and yawing and fearful that every plunge would end on the seabed.

Peering into the face of the storm, he glimpsed the swinging lanterns of the Corneille Noire. The pirate vessel drew ever closer, despite the wild seas. He had seen before how the Unseelie Court's ships defied the very elements, and he understood now why the Enemy had chosen this moment to attack. In the tumult, the Tempest's guns would be nigh-on useless.

Carpenter clawed his way to Will's side, both men's hair and beards drenched. *This is why I turned my back on a life at sea,' he raged. *d.a.m.n all this h.e.l.l! Give me dry land and I would fight an army.'

*It could be worse, John.'

*How could it be worse?'

*There could be two ships filled with those Fay b.a.s.t.a.r.ds determined to send us to the bottom.'

Carpenter cursed loudly. *You find this sport? You are as mad as b.l.o.o.d.y Jack. There are times I think you are seeking out ways to die.'

The Corneille Noire swept across the waves, a single-minded predator with the Tempest caught in its cold glare. Courtenay waited with one foot on the rail, one hand gripping a line, his grim gaze fixed on the other galleon's progress. As it swept alongside, he raised one arm.

Will stared at the Enemy ship, frowning. In the light of its swinging lanterns, the grey-skinned, unblinking crew seemed like statues, oblivious of every sensation. Even from that distance, Will could tell they had the taint of rot about them. But if the captain Jean le Gris was troubled by what had happened to his men, he showed no sign of it, levelling his sword at Courtenay and shouting abuse into the roaring gale. Behind him, the pale sentinels of the Fay waited for the bloodletting. Will sensed their terrible gaze upon him.

*Let us not wait for them!' Courtenay bellowed. *Send them a greeting from h.e.l.l!' He slashed down his arm.

The message darted from man to man until it reached the master gunner on the gun deck. A rolling wall of fire erupted into the watery world. From bow chasers to broadside cannon to stern chasers, the booming of the guns thundered out, louder even than the storm. Plumes of white smoke whipped away in the wind. Most of the shot plunged harmlessly into the towering walls of black water as the squall flung the two vessels around the high ridges and deep valleys of the swell. But one smashed a hole through the pirate ship's castle to where the captain's cabin would have been and another tore rigging from the mizzen top. b.l.o.o.d.y Jack shook his fist and roared his jubilation, leaning so far over the rail that Will thought the waves would pluck him away.

*No cannon will drive them off,' Carpenter shouted, his brow furrowed. *They will not rest until we go down.'

*If our only choice is to take them with us, that is what we shall do,' Will yelled back. *Though in these turbulent waters, it will take an age to whittle each other to pieces.'

The Tempest rolled at an alarming angle as another wave crashed across the deck. Will swallowed a mouthful of brine. Only his grip on the rigging saved him as his legs flew out beneath him. When the galleon righted, he saw the Corneille Noire broadside on, its gun ports open. The captain was waiting for the swell to draw the two vessels in line before giving the order to fire.

*Heads down,' Will called. The fire spewed out of the pirate ship, and the cannon cracked. He flung himself on to the deck as red-hot shot screamed by. To his right, the rail disintegrated. A sailor slow in dropping low disappeared in a red mist. Another screamed, his leg gone. Deadly shards of timber flew around, and the cacophony of cries of men in agony echoed along the length of the galleon.

Courtenay hung over the rail to survey the damage inflicted on his vessel's hull. *All above the waterline,' he concluded with a pleased nod. *Then let us not stop there.' As the swell lifted the Tempest high, he bellowed the order to fire again. Thunder rolled all around. The acrid stink of burnt powder whisked in the wind.

Sizzling shot tore through the Enemy vessel, more by good fortune than judgement. Seasoned oak as hard as iron burst into shards. Rigging tore free, lashing across the deck. The mainmast cracked and skewed at an angle. b.l.o.o.d.y Jack made his own luck by throwing caution to the wind, Will knew: any other captain would have taken the decision to flee rather than fight in those seas.

At the pirate captain's orders, his grey, dead men clambered up what remained of the rigging to cut loose the mainsail before it dragged the mast over the side and the ship to the bottom. Jubilation flooded Will. The gamble had worked and the pirate ship had been crippled. But the triumph was short-lived. Even without its mainmast and sails, the Enemy ship swept closer.

*They are going to ram us,' Carpenter yelled.

*Board us, more like,' Will corrected as he watched the frantic activity along the other ship's deck. The rotting crew lined the rail with grapnels and rapiers in hand. Behind them, the Unseelie Court waited to seize their moment.

*Prepare to repel boarders,' b.l.o.o.d.y Jack roared, striding along the deck. His men wrenched out their own rapiers and daggers and scrambled to the rail. Will hauled himself up, drawing his blade.

*This is more like it.' Carpenter grinned without humour. *Now I can put my idle hands to good use. A hogshead of sack to the man who carves the most.'

The Corneille Noire swung close. Will braced himself for the impact. Whatever magics were at play brought the galleon firm alongside, despite the heaving swell. It was as if they were locked in congress, rising and falling with perfect rhythm.

The grapnels flew out across the black gulf, catching in the Tempest's rigging. The pirates gripped their ropes and kicked away from the rail. Some of Courtenay's men attempted to cut the lines, pitching a few of the swinging figures into the roiling sea. They went down without a cry, sucked under the black water in an instant.

Will blinked away the driving rain. He glimpsed the bloom of decay on the grey, dispa.s.sionate face of the once-man swinging towards him. Yet another of the Unseelie Court's crimes against the natural order, he thought, glowering. As the pirate's feet crossed the rail, Will lunged. Cold steel plunged through the thing's chest, yet still it came. He withdrew his rapier and slashed down. The face peeled open from temple to chin, but still the wide eyes stared. As the pirate dropped to the deck, he swung his knife high. Will threw himself forward so that his shoulder rammed into his dead foe. The dagger whisked a hair's breadth from his cheek as he drove on and pitched the pirate over the side.

Along the rail blew a smaller storm of steel and curses and spattering blood. Blades clashed as Courtenay's men wrestled with their dead counterparts. One sailor barely twenty summers old went down in a gout of crimson from a slashed throat. Without pause, his staring attacker plunged his gore-stained dagger into the chest of the seaman fighting beside him.

In the confusion of the battle whirling across the storm-lashed deck, Will lost sight of his colleagues. He thrust himself into the melee. When the fighting was too close to use his rapier, he lashed out with elbows and fists and knees and feet. He glimpsed Courtenay roaring with laughter as he plunged his dagger into a grey face. A moment later the mad captain lifted the corpse over his head and pitched it into the sea.

Beyond the frenzy, Will sensed movement as fluid as the brine washing across the deck. His nerves jangled. Shadows flitted, here, there. When a lightning flash froze white faces, he realized that some of the Unseelie Court had boarded the Tempest. They kept to the gloom on the fringes so that it was impossible to tell how many there were.

Will tore himself away from the fight and made his way, stabbing and hacking as he went, to where Launceston was tipping a pirate over the side. *Leave the men to fight these dead things,' he ordered. *The Fay are aboard, and they are our business. We must find John and Tobias now.'

He darted to the other side of the deck. In the half-light, he glimpsed shapes creeping low like wolves at night, lips pulled back from sharp teeth. As a hand flicked towards the hilt of a rapier, Will sucked in a sharp breath and leapt for a rope dangling from a grapnel in the rigging. Bracing himself, he swung both feet into the nearest Fay's chest, propelling it over the rail.

Another attacked the instant he dropped to the boards, slashing with fast, controlled strokes. When a dying seaman stumbled back into his grim opponent, Will seized his chance, thrusting through the heart with one fluid strike.

Somewhere nearby Strangewayes yelled an anguished warning. Will wrenched around. Tobias was pointing at the door to the captain's cabin. It swung wildly in the lashing gale. The Fay lord Lansing, whom Will had seen drive a man mad on the Liverpool dockside, now had Grace pinned to his chest with his left arm as he eased her out on deck. The Fay lord turned his cold face towards Will, and called in a clear voice, *Lay down your weapons.' As the other Fay circled, Lansing drew his slender fingers along the curve of Grace's neck, pushing her head back.

*Resist him,' she called in a defiant voice. *My life means nothing when all of England is at stake.'

Will knew she was right, and so did Strangewayes.

*Kill them,' Lansing said to the other Fay. *Kill them all, and let us be done with this rabble and return to the Golden City victorious.'

Before the first of the Unseelie Court could attack, Grace hammered her heel on to Lansing's foot. In the shock of her attack, he loosened his grip and she wrenched herself free, throwing herself among the battling sailors.

*We play for high stakes here. Win all or lose everything.' Courtenay's gruff voice boomed through the storm. The captain stood at the end of the main deck with a powder barrel over his head. Beside him, a shaking crewman held a burning fuse, spitting in the rain. *There is no room for any middle ground,' b.l.o.o.d.y Jack continued, a light gleaming in his eyes. *Get off my ship, or I'll blow us all to h.e.l.l.'

Will saw the Unseelie Court weighing up whether Courtenay would go through with his mad threat. He had no doubt. If they faced defeat, better to take a few Fay b.a.s.t.a.r.ds along with them.

b.l.o.o.d.y Jack roared, shaking the barrel with the fury of a goaded bear.

The Fay had seen enough. Will stifled his relief as they ghosted away into the shadows by the p.o.o.p deck, moving towards the rail and the grapnels. Courtenay raised the barrel high in triumph and bellowed, *We must seize this moment, Master Swyfte. Once back on their ship, they will loose their guns again and blow us out of the water.'

Will fought to stay on his feet as the galleon spun like a leaf on a stream. Walls of black water smashed down, pitching the ship at such an angle that the hull groaned like a dying man. He fell, cursing, and skidded across the briny deck. He glimpsed Lansing by the rail, one hand on the rope that would swing him back to the Corneille Noire. The Fay had hold of Grace once more. He dragged her into a cold embrace, clearly intending to take her back to the pirate ship with him. Strangewayes lay dazed at his feet, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead.

The Fay lord stared at Will and yelled some threat, but the fury of the gale tore his words away. Lightning flashed white overhead, making stark the fear in Grace's wide, dark eyes. Her mouth was a wide O, a cry of anguish perhaps, or a plea for Will to aid her.

Thrown around by the pitching deck, Will could only watch as Lansing pressed his mouth to the woman's ear and began to whisper. Desperation rushed through him. Grace's eyes widened for a moment, the terror in them plain to see. Her head fell slowly back on to Lansing's shoulder, her lids flickered, and she collapsed limply into his arms. Gripping the rope, the Fay placed one foot on the rail of the Tempest as he prepared to swing himself and his captive across to the other ship. Devastated, Will knew he could not reach Lansing, or Grace, in time.

Yet as the dead pirates responded to some silent signal and turned back towards their vessel, Will sensed movement at the edge of his vision. Carpenter was perched on the p.o.o.p deck. With a snarl, he leapt. He slammed into the Fay, wrenching Grace free of Lansing's grasp. The two men careered over the side.

Will staggered his way to the rail and peered down into the roiling sea. Surely no man could survive in that cauldron? For a moment, he saw only slate-grey water, which rose up higher and higher still until it towered above him before crashing down with a sound like a thousand hammers. A moment later he spotted a figure in the water, but only for an instant before it disappeared beneath the surface.

Behind him, he heard Courtenay bark orders to the helmsman to try to move the galleon away. The storm was already starting to ebb, and if the captain caught the last of the strong winds he could put s.p.a.ce between them and the Enemy.

Launceston appeared at his elbow, his ghastly face made starker by the gloom. *We must save him,' he cried with an edge of emotion that Will had never heard in the aristocrat's voice before. *Tell Courtenay to hold fast.'

Swyfte blinked rain out of his eyes as he looked into the other man's face. *Robert, I would not leave a friend to die in such circ.u.mstances. But if we tarry here, we all die, and so too the hopes of England.' He felt sickened to hear the words come out of his mouth.

Launceston nodded in acceptance, and without another word stepped on to the rail and dived into the boiling sea. Will's cry rang out, but the man disappeared and however desperately Will searched the waves he saw no further sign of his friend. The spy cursed to himself: what had possessed Launceston to throw himself after Carpenter?

The rain eased and a glimmer of silver light broke through the thick clouds on the horizon. With a boom of filling sails, the Tempest pulled away from the crippled Enemy galleon.

Desolate, Will tore his gaze away from the angry sea and knelt down beside Grace. He took her in his arms. She was still breathing, but that was but a small mercy. He had seen the corruption of the Unseelie Court worm its way into even the strongest mind and consume it from within until only a sh.e.l.l was left.

*Grace,' he whispered in her ear, *speak to me.'

There was no response; she might have been sleeping, though he would not wish her dreams upon another living soul. Will bowed his head. So much had been lost, yet the worst still lay ahead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

THE STORM HAD blown itself out by sunset. Under heavy clouds, the Tempest sailed through a night as deep and dark as any the crew had ever experienced. With no stars to guide them, Courtenay stowed away his compa.s.s and charts and concentrated on putting distance between them and the pirate ship. On deck, the subdued singing of the seamen raised no spirits. They mourned the eight of their companions lost in the attack, as Will mourned Carpenter and Launceston. Sails hung ripped and yards broken. Two sailors hauled planks of wood, fresh rigging and sailcloth from the store below, while a gang of five cut and shaped to start the repairs. Even the sound of the mallets had a funereal beat. *We lick our wounds and we move on,' Courtenay growled in pa.s.sing, the closest he would come to words of commiseration.

By dawn, the skies had cleared to a perfect blue and the sea was calm. With his astrolabe, b.l.o.o.d.y Jack shielded his eyes against the merciless sun and began to calculate the lat.i.tudes in order to discover how far they had been blown off course into dangerous, uncharted waters. His mood darkened by the hour.

Grace had not yet regained consciousness. Her breathing shallow, her eyes motionless beneath the lids, she lay on her berth in a sleep akin to death. Will sat over her through the long night, watching for any sign that she might recover, afraid what would be left of her wits if she did. Time and again he cursed himself for his failings, haunted by his vow to protect her at all costs.

Strangewayes would barely look at him, and when their eyes did meet, Will saw only simmering hatred. He felt angry at the young spy's att.i.tude, but held his tongue. As the stifling heat rose in the dusty cabin, he realized he was only making matters worse by being there; it was now Strangewayes' responsibility to care for Grace. Will left him there, cooling her brow with a damp kerchief and muttering constant prayers.

Will asked the captain if he could be left alone on the p.o.o.p deck for a few moments. Once he had a.s.sured himself he couldn't be overseen by the other men, he squatted down at the far side of the castle and pulled the obsidian mirror from his pouch, laying it on the deck. As he hunched over the gla.s.s, he whispered the words Meg had taught him and waited.

Long moments pa.s.sed. It was the agreed time, and Meg had not yet disappointed him. He uttered the incantation once more, and again. Yet the mirror remained clear, and he began to fear that the Unseelie Court had claimed another life. Wearily, he bowed his head and closed his eyes.

When he looked again, the black mirror had clouded over. Yet the face that was gradually appearing in the misty gla.s.s was not Meg's. He felt his heart begin to beat faster, though he scarcely dared hope. Yet the familiar curve of the lips emerged, and the bright, clever eyes, and the tumble of brown hair, just as they had that night in the rooming house in Liverpool.

*Jenny,' he murmured, uncontrolled joy rushing through him. She still wore the blue dress she had on when she vanished from his life all those years ago.

Her eyes widened and he knew she could see him too. But then he saw the worry in her face. With apprehension she glanced nervously over her shoulder in the darkness, and then leaned closer to the gla.s.s.

*Will. It is you.'

He recoiled at the shock of hearing her voice after so long. There was so much he wanted to say to her; he had played this moment through a thousand times or more in all the years of longing. How could he ever begin to express the emotion that had been stirred in that seeming eternity of time apart? *Jenny,' he began, struggling to find the words, but she silenced him with an insistent shake of her head.

*Will, there is very little time,' she whispered. *When I saw you before, I barely dared believe you still lived . . . that you remembered me-'

*I would never forget you.' He could barely stop his voice from breaking. Her features softened, and he saw the affection in her smile. *Not a day has pa.s.sed when I have not searched for you in some way.'

*And you must abandon the quest,' she sighed. *That is the very reason why I have reached out to you. You must put me out of your thoughts, and out of your heart.'

*Never.'

*You must.' He saw the tears begin to run down her cheeks. *Will, please . . . do this for me, if you love me still-'

*I do!'

*Then forget me,' she implored. *There is no time for explanations. You must trust me on this matter. To find me could cost you your own life, and I will never allow that to happen . . .' She half turned as if she had heard someone approaching, and then added in a hasty tone, *I must go.'

*Wait,' he called out, too loud, but the looking gla.s.s had already misted over, and a moment later it showed only blue sky. Will slumped back against the rail and closed his eyes, turning her words over in his head, listening once again to the music of her voice. He felt afraid to stop in case he could no longer remember how she sounded. And yet Jenny lived, there could be no doubt about that now. His heart leapt, and it was all he could do not to shout to the heavens. Her warnings meant nothing to him. How could he accept her plea for him to stay away? Nothing would deter him from bringing her home.

He inhaled a draught of salty air and took a moment at the rail, looking out over the blue waters. Though his spirits now soared, he yet felt doubt. What of Meg? Did she still live? And without her to guide them, what chance did they have of reaching their destination?

He was in reflective mood as he descended on to the main deck, and barely noticed Courtenay beckoning him to enter his cabin. Strangewayes knelt beside the still-p.r.o.ne Grace, so intent on his prayers he seemed unaware that the two men had entered. Will followed b.l.o.o.d.y Jack to his trestle where his dog-eared charts were scattered, the astrolabe weighting them down. Keeping an eye on Strangewayes, the captain whispered, *Do you have a new course for me?'

*Not yet. Soon,' Will replied. *You have identified our position?'

Courtenay jabbed a finger on the chart. *Right where we shouldn't be, Master Swyfte. We've already had our fill of the horse lat.i.tudes, where the wind comes and goes like a woman's affections, and you can drift becalmed for days under a sweltering sun. Aye, that's bad enough, but that d.a.m.nable storm has dumped us back in it, and worse. Here . . .' he drew a filthy nail along the chart, *is a sea within the sea. Cursed, it is. Good ships disappear without a sign. Pirates, some say.' He shrugged, not believing. *Other vessels are found deserted, with treasure still in their holds and food and water in their barrels. Every captain knows to steer well clear-'

*You did this.' The low growl of Strangewayes' voice rustled across the cabin. Will turned to see the red-headed spy confronting him, rapier drawn, his face flushed with an anger that must, Will surmised, be born of despair. *If you had taken even a moment to prepare her for the horrors of the Unseelie Court, she might have survived the encounter. But no, the great Will Swyfte had better things to do with his time.'

*Put your sword away, boy,' Courtenay growled. *You're making a fool of yourself.'

*England is littered with dead and wounded men who have made your acquaintance, oft-times decent-hearted, G.o.d-fearing people you have used and discarded once they have served your purpose, so I have heard,' Strangewayes continued, not taking his gaze off Will. *You care for no one but yourself. And yet you are tolerated because, in your cunning way, you offer a service to the Queen and her government. But you must be held to account sooner or later a if not by G.o.d, then by me.'

*'Tis true that I am not a good man, but I am an effective one,' Will replied in a calm voice. He could see the hurt burning in the other man's face. *And you are mistaken on one count. There are people dear to me, and I would defend them even at the cost of my own life. I would never see Grace harmed-'