THE ISLAND BROODED in the deep dark. No fires or lanterns glimmered, no voices carried, no sign of human habitation showed itself anywhere. There was only the creak of the Tempest at anchor and the wind across the waves.

Uncommonly subdued, Courtenay disappeared below deck and returned with ten of his fiercest men. Will watched the rowing boat pull away as it ferried the sailors to the sh.o.r.e. It disappeared into the dark, and after what seemed an age, lanterns flickered to life in a circle on the beach. He joined the last boat with Strangewayes, who would not meet his eye. *You must put aside your feelings until we are back aboard ship,' Will said in a low voice. *Our survival could depend on us looking out for each other.'

Strangewayes did not reply.

Through the gloom they could make out white-topped waves lapping on to a small beach which led up to a dense line of trees silhouetted against the night sky. The dark beneath the canopy was impenetrable. The sweet scent of cooling vegetation drifted on the night breeze.

*Make a fire here on the strand,' Will ordered when he stood in the circle of lamplight. *It will be a beacon for us as we explore the island.' While the men collected driftwood and dry brush from the treeline, Will clambered over the rock pools at the edge of the horseshoe-shaped cove. Though he gained a different perspective of the island, still he could see no sign of life.

Once he had glanced towards the beach to ensure he had not been followed, he crouched down and removed the obsidian mirror from his leather pouch. It felt cool and comforting in his hand. How much he had gambled, bringing such a powerful object so close to the redoubt of the Unseelie Court. And yet it had proved the source of such hope.

He laid the looking gla.s.s on a seaweed-covered rock and peered into its depths. It seemed to glow of its own accord. Long moments pa.s.sed, but just as he began to lose hope the mirror clouded and Jenny appeared in the gla.s.s once more. She smiled but her eyes looked unaccountably sad.

*You knew I was here, wishing to speak to you?' he asked.

She nodded. *The mirror is powerful. It calls out to . . . to this place. And . . .' she lowered her eyes, trying to hide the depth of her feelings, *I look out for you, Will. To see you again . . . after so long . . .' She shook her head, grimacing. *No. I am being weak. You must ignore my words. Stay away, Will. There is too much at stake here. I am worth nothing.'

He shook his head with vehemence. *You are everything to me. And I will risk everything to bring you home.' Her tears welled and she screwed up her eyes to stifle them. Will felt overwhelmed by a rush of memories, sensations and emotions: crunching through crisp gold and orange leaves in the woods with Jenny beside him; their eyes meeting at the Christmas feast amid the scent of cloves and hot, sweet wine, and the world seeming to hang though the dancers whirled around them; a kiss, on the day he left for Cambridge, thinking that surely there could be no worse pain than this parting. If only he had known.

*I have many questions,' he continued, aware that time was short, *but first: tell me, have they harmed you in any way?'

*I am well,' she replied, so quickly that he knew she was lying and his blood boiled.

*Who took you, Jenny, and why?'

*Why? Who can fathom the minds of these creatures?' she replied in a strained voice. *Who?' She paused, swallowed. *I was taken on the orders of Mandraxas, the King of these people, and the first of the High Family.'

*Then he is the one who must feel the bite of my blade,' Will replied, his voice cold. *One day I will find my way to you, and then-'

*You can never do that,' she said, her voice breaking. *This fortress is impregnable. High, strong walls and many guards. And to enter this land of the Fay, you must first pa.s.s through one of the gates into the place where the two worlds overlap.'

*How will I find them?'

She sighed. *Will-'

*Tell me, Jenny,' he pressed.

*The Unseelie Court say you will find the gates if you ever need them, though it is much harder to leave. Twin pillars of stone, they are, in the sea around the New World. You will surely know them, for the rules of the natural world do not hold sway around them.'

While he reflected upon her words, a cry of alarm rang out. He looked round, and when he turned back the looking gla.s.s was clear. His heart sank, but only for a moment, for he knew now that Jenny was looking out for him too.

Another cry rolled across the strand. Will stood and saw Strangewayes lit up by the ruddy flames of the crew's bonfire, beckoning him back. One of the men was pointing out to sea. Following the line of the man's arm, Will discerned lights bobbing far out on the dark ocean beyond the reef. Another ship was sailing towards the island. When the Tempest's gun cracked, Will could only imagine that the new arrival was Jean le Gris's devil-haunted pirate galleon. The warning shot from Captain Courtenay would let their enemies know they had little hope of sailing through the rough waters beyond the reef in one piece.

At the bonfire, the men had made burning brands with pitch-soaked sailcloth wrapped around fallen branches to light their way through the thick woods. *We must use well what little time we have,' Will told them. *Search for any paths leading away from the beach. But stay in sight of each other's torches.'

*And if we find nothing?' Strangewayes muttered.

*Pray that we do, Tobias.'

As they moved into the trees, the dancing torchlight glowed like fireflies through the branches. A symphony of subtle sounds surrounded them: the whisper of leaves, the groan of dry wood underfoot, and the distant call of some night bird. Soon the dark swallowed the beach and the bonfire. No one spoke.

Will imagined Dee and Meg and the other survivors clawing their way out of the surf and staggering up the beach and into the woods. It gave him hope where he knew there should not be any.

The ground sloped steadily upwards towards the centre of the island. In the sultry heat, sweat dripped from brows and soaked shirts. The men's breath rasped with the exertion.

*If the Unseelie Court find another cove to put into, how long before we encounter them, I wonder?' Strangewayes thought aloud. Will noticed he kept one hand on the hilt of the dagger tucked into the waist of his breeches.

Ahead, one of the men whistled, and the torches swept through the trees in the direction of the call. The two spies found the other men gathered in a clearing looking up. On the side of the hill at the heart of the island, a tower stood silhouetted against the starry sky.

*Curious,' Will said, stroking his chin-hair. *Now who would call this dark place home?'

On the far side of the clearing, one of the men waved his torch. Cracked flagstones marked a path leading up through the trees, so worn and overgrown they suggested great age. Strangewayes flashed a questioning look.

*If I had survived a shipwreck, a stone tower would have seemed a perfect shelter,' Will replied. Holding his torch high, he stepped on to the path, happier now he had a destination in mind. Yet only a moment later, a blood-curdling howl echoed across the island. Uneasy, the men huddled together, eyes wide and darting around.

*What was that?' Strangewayes hissed. *Man? Or beast?'

Will drew his dagger. *Cold steel cuts either one.' He continued along the path, more cautiously this time.

The path wound round the contours of the hill. Even with the torches Will found it impossible to see any distance ahead. When he paused to get his bearings beside a craggy-barked tree, the baying rolled out again, so close this time that several men cried out in shock. The sound stirred ancient fears in his head. Yet another yowl came a moment later, behind them this time.

*Circling us,' Will said.

*Hunting.' Strangewayes whirled, brandishing his dagger in front of him.

Behind them, along the path, the baying changed into a low growl, the sound of some beast preparing to attack. *Stand your ground,' Will called, but the fearful seamen ran as one towards higher ground. Realizing they had no choice but to follow, the two spies raced after them.

The frightened men burst out of the trees into another clearing at the foot of a rocky outcrop. The torchlight glittered across the surface of a black pool fed by a spring trickling from the glistening cliff face. *Make a stand,' Will shouted, putting away his dagger. *There will be no better place.'

Blades bristled out as the men formed a circle, their drawn faces stark in the flames. Will s.n.a.t.c.hed out his rapier and turned to look back down the shadowy path.

A snapping and snarling rang out, but then a familiar woman's voice called out, *Leave them, Mooncalf. They are not your prey.' Silence fell across the woods. When Will's pounding heart had slowed, he raised his torch and searched the dark beyond the pool. In the wavering light, a grey shape appeared, coalescing into Red Meg. She was barefoot, her dress smudged and worn. A grin sprang to the spy's lips and he ran over to her.

*It does me good to see you well, Meg,' he said with relief. *I had feared the worst.'

Her eyes narrowed as if she were trying to recall his face. *Will Swyfte?' she enquired with a faint, baffled smile.

Had she taken a knock to the head in the shipwreck, he wondered? But then her eyes sparkled and her smile broadened and she almost hugged him in her joy. *Will Swyfte! After so long, I never dared hope I would see your c.o.c.ky face again.'

*Ten weeks since Liverpool is long indeed, Mistress Meg, but it could have been eternity-'

*Ten weeks?' She shook her head, puzzled once more. *Since the storm washed us up on this island, twelve years have pa.s.sed.'

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO.

THE STIFLING DARK enveloped Carpenter. Coa.r.s.e sackcloth scratched his face as he stumbled along blindly at the bidding of his captors. His breath rasped against the covering that had been thrust over his head aboard the galleon, but sounds came to him clearly: the whispering voices of the Unseelie Court speaking in their strange, bird-like language, the splash of the oars in the rowing boat, the crash of waves and the crunch of sand underfoot as he lurched up the strand. Blood dripped from his stinging wrists where the rope chafed him, but the pain only focused his mind. With an effort, he drove out the sickening sensation of the thing forcing its way down his throat and thought simply that he still lived.

When he came to a swaying halt, rough hands yanked the sack off his head. He stood on a small beach edged by steep cliffs facing a wall of dark, spiky-leaved trees. Torches hissed and spat in the hands of the dead pirates, their grey-green skin peeling away to reveal the bone beneath. The stink of rot floated on the breeze. Beyond the circle of light, he could just discern the spectral faces of the Fay in the gloom, their fierce, unblinking stares locked upon him.

Reeking of unfamiliar spices, Jean le Gris, the pirate captain, peered into the spy's face with his one good eye. Scar tissue marred much of his skin above his wild black beard, but Carpenter saw that this man wore his wounds with pride. With a gap-toothed grin, the pirate tossed the sack away and said in heavily accented English, *Savour your few last breaths, dog. Your time in this world is done.' He swept a hand across his throat and laughed.

Carpenter shrugged, refusing to give the other man any satisfaction. *How can you throw your lot in with these foul creatures?' he said with contempt.

Le Gris's grin faded. Leaning in closer, he hissed, *Do you think I had a choice? If I had resisted, I would have become like them.' He nodded towards his dead crew.

*So you sacrificed your men to save your neck. There is no honour among pirates, it seems.'

Le Gris snarled and Carpenter felt the p.r.i.c.k of a knife-point at his neck. A bubble of blood rose up. *They came like wolves in the night as we sailed down the Channel. Ten men were dead before we even knew they had boarded us. A cur like you cannot judge me.'

The Unseelie Court never lost their ruthlessness, the spy understood. They needed a galleon that could survive an Atlantic crossing and took the first one they found that would not be missed. *You survived that encounter because they needed your skills,' he said, *but soon you will have outlived your usefulness. What then, Frenchman?'

Le Gris's blade moved back, ready to cut Carpenter's throat, but the Englishman saw the other man's eyes flicker towards something further down the beach and the foul-smelling pirate stepped back. Propelled by unseen hands, another hooded prisoner lurched beside the spy. Le Gris s.n.a.t.c.hed off the sack to reveal Launceston, his deathly pallor aglow in the torchlight.

*You live,' Carpenter said, surprised by his rush of relief at his companion's survival.

*Little good it does us,' the Earl breathed.

The Fay lord Lansing sauntered past the men, carrying a small, gleaming chest a hand larger than the one that had held the Caraprix. He nodded for the pirate to follow him. Glowering at the two spies, le Gris took the chest and followed the Fay like a servant. Carpenter imagined the Frenchman's searing resentment at the humiliation, and smiled to himself.

*Did they harm you?' he asked Launceston.

*They were poor company,' the Earl replied with a shrug, *but I have endured worse. When I was a child, my father sealed me in a hole in the cellar with three rats for company, to teach me a lesson, he said.' He looked round the beach, his voice unnervingly quiet. *I learned how to kill rats.'

A little way away, the silver box had been set on the sand. Lansing kneeled down and flicked open the lid, drawing out a gla.s.s ball like the ones Carpenter had seen in Dee's chambers. He held it gently in the palm of his right hand.

*Four times Lansing came to me. His words were sugared, but each one hid a demand for betrayal. What could he offer me? I have all I need now. Satisfying work, companionship.' Launceston paused. *We all have a place in this world and I have finally found mine. I would not let him take that away from me.'

Carpenter hid his guilt, pretending to be engrossed by the Fay, who was dismissing le Gris with a lazy flick of his hand. Muttering under his breath, Lansing gestured as if drawing a silk kerchief off the gla.s.s ball. A flood of colour rushed out.

The two spies recoiled as one. *More magics,' Carpenter spat.

The shifting colours coalesced into a plane on which formed a relief chart of the crescent-shaped island, with a stone tower standing on the hill at the centre. Carpenter gaped as he saw thick woods and paths running through them, valleys, pools and streams and gra.s.sy clearings. Lansing crooked a finger at the pirate and then pointed to the tower. *The magician hides away here. Find him and bring him back, and kill anyone who stands in your way.'

Le Gris nodded, his one eye wide with amazement.

*Here,' the Fay continued, moving his finger to a faint red glow following a path to the tower, *are the English spies.' He traced a line along a deep valley. *If you follow this route, you will shave hours off your journey and, perhaps, reach the tower before our foes.'

*And this?' The pirate pointed to a single red spot keeping pace with Will and the others.

Carpenter saw Lansing's brow furrow. The Fay shook his head and turned back to the silver chest, removing a gilt-edged mirror. Holding it up, he whispered a few words and the gla.s.s clouded over. Gripped now, Carpenter's eyes narrowed as a hawk-like face appeared from the mist: one golden eye, one purple, wide and unblinking under arched brows, a long pointed nose ending at bow-shaped lips that added a feminine touch to the strong features.

*Mandraxas, brother,' Lansing said, with a curt bow of his head. *All strands come together, here on the edge of the great everlasting.'

*You have the Ortelgan Mirror?' The voice rolled out from the gla.s.s, high and sweet.

*In time,' the Fay lord responded. *First we will snare the magician, Dee. Once we have brought him home to endure the pleasures of Fortress Crepuscule, all things must follow.'

*And so we make our plans, brother. And so we make our plans.'

Carpenter felt his stomach knot, queasy with fear. Yet with the Caraprix nestling deep inside him, he knew there was no going back. He set his doubts aside and wondered why that face in the mirror frightened him so. It was as if his senses understood the essence of the creature and rebelled at the contact.

Once the face had faded and the looking gla.s.s had clouded once more, Lansing returned it to the silver box with the gla.s.s ball and flipped the lid shut. He stood, saying to le Gris, *Organize your men, or what is left of them, while I see to the prisoners.' With his chin raised, the Fay wandered behind Carpenter and Launceston. *Your time here is done,' he said in a quiet voice, *but your pa.s.sing will not be painless, for what would be the point? We all have our skills, my brothers and sisters and I, our strengths, our joys. Mine is the taking of a human life. Sometimes I come like a ghost. Men fall in a court in a foreign land, their blood pooling around them, and those standing beside them know not how their companion came to be dead. Sometimes I linger, drawing out long-held secrets or cries or vows, for the benefit of my people or for pleasure. Sometimes I slaughter wantonly, allowing men to sink into the fierce beauty of my face, the mere sight of me adding another subtle layer to their pain, another delicate seasoning to my rapturous feast. The High Family knows my expertise and they use it well. I am their sword, enforcing their will in the world of men.'

Carpenter wondered, then, why Lansing had not tortured him, or Launceston, to achieve his ends. He had used only words. Perhaps he had spoken truly when he expressed his desire for the peaceful return of his sister.

*Come to it, then,' Launceston said as if he were calling for another cup of sack. *I have no fear of death. We are old friends.'

Carpenter heard Lansing pa.s.s by the Earl and step up to his back. He felt cold breath upon his neck. *Our agreement stands,' the Fay whispered so Launceston could not hear. *Find the magician first and deliver him to me and no one will suffer. You will be free to return to your life and this long war will be over.'

The spy felt the kiss of cold steel against his skin as Lansing slid his dagger under his bonds and slit the rope. *Choose your moment well to flee,' the Fay added before saying loudly, *I will leave the thoughts of your pa.s.sing to settle deep into you and thereby make the experience all the richer. Soon, now. Soon.' He strode across the dry sand to where le Gris directed his men. They appeared to understand his meaning.

*Robert,' Carpenter whispered from the side of his mouth, *I have worked my bonds free. When I make my move, follow my lead.'

The Earl inclined his head in a.s.sent, giving nothing away.

Carpenter watched Lansing guide the pirates until their backs were turned, and then he grabbed Launceston's arm and drew him silently into the trees. When they were deep in the dark and running as fast as they could, he heard le Gris's cry. *Too late to raise the alarm,' Carpenter said. *Once we have put some s.p.a.ce between us, I will free you from your bonds, Robert, and then we shall bring this matter to a close.'

His chest swelled with exuberance. Soon he would be going home.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

BLACK CLOUDS LOPED across the sky, devouring the stars and the moon. Branches thrashed in the claws of the wind raking through the trees on the hillside. The torches roared and spat as the frightened men of the Tempest's sh.o.r.e party forced their way through the rising gale towards the tower where Dee and Meg had taken shelter. With the storm, they could sense something darker coming too, long fingers of shadow reaching across the tropical island to snuff out their lives as easily as the lights that guided their way. When the howl of the Mooncalf rolled out near at hand, they jumped and cursed. Death lay everywhere.

*What is that thing?' Will asked, his shirt damp against his hot skin.

*Dee's watchdog,' Meg replied. She lifted the hem of her grey skirt as she climbed the overgrown stone steps of the narrow path. Occasionally she would flash glances at her companion that ended with a puzzled smile as if she still could not believe he was there. *The alchemist made it . . . made it out of . . .' She paused, looking away into the dark under the trees. *No matter.'

Will still hadn't decided whether her suffering on Dee's haunted ship and in the wreck on the reef had driven her mad. Her ship had been at best only two weeks ahead of the Tempest. How then could she believe she had been upon that island for twelve years? He had not yet broached the subject for fear the questioning would unbalance her further, but he needed answers if he were to s.n.a.t.c.h a victory from the coming conflict.