Long moments pa.s.sed. Will spied no hint of movement, nor heard any sign of life. The inhabitants of the village could have overheard their approach and be waiting to strike, he knew. But he noted the straggly, unbroken gra.s.s around the wooden buildings and the holes in the boats where the hide had rotted, and he chopped his arm forward. The spies edged into the clearing, eyes flashing all around. When no arrows struck Will felt the tightness in his chest ease.

Launceston ghosted to the nearest house, slipping inside with his dagger raised. He moved on to the next, and the one after, and returned, sheathing his blade. *Long since deserted,' he said, with a shrug. *Rats as big as cats in there, and spider-webs trailing from every corner.'

*If all you have told me about the Unseelie Court is true, surely they would never tolerate any human village within their purview,' Grace said, showing not a trace of fear. Will felt proud of her.

The Earl grunted. *I still cannot tell if I am in their world or our own.'

*Wherever we are, it is our world, because we make it so.' Meg strode past the men, tossing her red hair. *Are we to stand here gossiping like maids, when there is work to be done?' Grace followed her.

*Gentlemen, we are put to shame,' Will said with a sweep of his arm.

Carpenter bowed his head and followed, muttering, *Will they jump in our graves afore us too?'

In single file with Meg at the head, they made their way across the clearing and past the silent houses. As they reached the treeline on the other side, Will frowned. Something had made the hairs on his neck p.r.i.c.kle, though he could not tell what. He called for the others to stop and turned slowly in an arc, scrutinizing everything that fell before his eyes. A faint movement on the trunk of a golden-leafed tree gripped him. Still unsure what he was seeing, he felt the hairs on his neck p.r.i.c.k erect as he eased past the others to investigate.

White eyes blinked in the brown bark.

Carpenter and Strangewayes leapt back in shock, daggers at the ready. A figure was submerged in the trunk, a man, with brown skin, a broad nose and black hair. Will thought he looked as if the tree had grown around him, so that it was impossible to tell where flesh ended and wood began. And yet he was still alive. The eyes blinked again, and as the lips twitched a dark hole appeared where the mouth would have been.

*Put him out of his misery,' Carpenter growled. *No man should have to live like that.'

Grace's hand flew to her mouth when she realized what she was seeing. *Oh,' she exclaimed, blanching.

*Do not look.' Meg caught the other woman's arm and tried to turn her away.

*I would know what monsters we face,' Grace said, resisting. Her expression hardened. *If we flinch from the truth, we cannot be prepared for what is expected of us.'

*Kill him,' Carpenter pleaded, his face contorting. *Let him suffer no more.' Will was surprised by the vehemence in his voice.

Launceston slid his dagger out of its sheath once more and stepped forward, his face impa.s.sive. Will wondered if it was even possible to kill the poor soul, short of chopping down the tree that contained him. But as the Earl raised his blade, those lips in the wood finally recalled their ability. With a twitch, they formed an O. Caught by the sight of that dark hole in the trunk, the spies recoiled in shock when a rumble reverberated deep inside the wood, rising up until it burst free as a high-pitched squeal of alarm. Clear and unending, it soared up above the treetops. Even as the aristocrat struck out with his dagger, other voices picked up the sound until the forest rang with warning shrieks.

*What do we do?' Grace cried.

*Run.' Will beckoned for her to follow as he turned to dash into the trees.

As if in answer to the cries, the air filled with the sound of mighty wings. Black shapes wheeled across the bra.s.sy sky. Will squinted, unable to tell if they were winged men or giant birds, but he had already guessed before Meg spoke. *The Corvata,' she said, her features darkening. *The eyes and ears of the Enemy.'

The spies darted beneath the verdant canopy, hoping they had been quick enough to avoid being seen by the flying sentinels. As they stumbled through the thick forest, tripping over roots and crashing into trunks, Carpenter snarled, *We were fools to think we could approach the fortress without discovery. We were fools, and now it will cost us our lives.'

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX.

SHAFTS OF SUNLIGHT pierced the canopy of leaves. Branches lashed the faces of the six humans as they raced over the soft, treacherous, mossy ground. All around them, screams rang out through the hot, humid air, offering no respite or chance to catch a breath. High overhead, mighty wings beat like the sound of rending sailcloth. Will glanced up, but he saw nothing and hoped that meant the things could not see him.

Strangewayes ran up to Will. *We cannot outrun them. Let me take Grace and return to the river,' he gasped. *We can follow the course more easily.'

*Fool,' Launceston breathed. *That is the first route the Fay will investigate.'

Will raised a hand to bring the group to a halt. As they gathered around him, eyes searching the green world, Strangewayes cried, *What, then?' Tears of desperation stung the corners of his eyes. He let his gaze fall upon Grace as he blinked them away. *Do we run wildly like stags before the hunt until the Enemy bring us down one by one?'

*This forest is vast and the Unseelie Court few,' Will replied. *Even with their vaunted supernatural powers, we can evade them.'

Meg's green eyes glinted, her face now as hard as marble. *Take heed of Will,' she said. *Anything but a calm head will lead us into the Enemy's hands.'

*His recklessness and wilful disregard for our safety have brought us to the brink of disaster,' Strangewayes protested. *And you say we should follow him still?'

*If he makes much more noise, I can silence him with one stroke,' Launceston volunteered, his stare unwavering.

*Tobias, you must listen to Will.' Grace clasped his hands in hers as she addressed the youngest spy. *I know you fear only for my safety. But Will has never failed us-'

*How can you say that?' Strangewayes threw his hands wide.

*The Fay will expect us to flee in panic,' Will continued in a calming tone. *In their arrogance, they think us weak, driven by our pa.s.sions, our fear. We must show them we are better than that. If we run like rabbits, you are right, Tobias, they will hunt us down with ease.'

*What do you suggest, then?' Carpenter sucked in a deep breath to calm himself.

*Stealth is the only way we can win this fight,' Will replied. *We continue towards the Fortress Crepuscule-'

*No.' Strangewayes shuddered. *Into their very arms?' His hand slipped to the hilt of his dagger.

The unearthly shrieks had ebbed away, but the beating wings still circled overhead. Will held up a hand. *We must keep our wits about us, and maintain a clear head. While they look for us running towards the river, we can steal to the very walls of their home, unseen, unexpected.'

*Please, Tobias, listen to him,' Grace implored.

The hot-headed young spy seemed agitated still. *I will not stand idly by and watch him lead you to your death.'

Strangewayes was acting like a fool, but Will pushed aside his irritation; he had seen this behaviour too many times before. When the Unseelie Court entered someone's life, the world suddenly looked strange and terrifying. Men coped with it in different ways, and some, like Strangewayes, were driven to extremes to try to hold on to things they valued and people they loved. It was a kind of madness that oft-times pa.s.sed, if the person was given s.p.a.ce to recover. The ground had moved rapidly under Strangewayes' feet, and Will only hoped the young man could find the strength within him to survive this turbulent time.

Carpenter and Launceston were less tolerant, Will knew. They exchanged a quick look and he could see they were poised to act. *We must not fight,' he insisted, trying for a calming note. *They are listening for us. That is why the warning cries have stopped.'

Then, just when Will thought he was about to relent, Strangewayes lunged with the dagger. As Grace cried out in shock, Will threw himself back, feeling the blade whisk past his neck. He sensed that the younger spy had been waiting for a long time to make his move. As he regained his balance, Strangewayes' fingers closed on Grace's slim wrist and he dragged her with him through the undergrowth. She struggled to free herself.

*Tobias, do not do this!' she cried out, turning to look back at Will with pleading eyes. In that glance, he could see she was torn between the man she loved, though she knew he was a fool, and her belief in Will himself.

Cursing, Will dashed after her, the others close behind. Each moment increased their risk of being heard. *He will be the death of us, not you,' Launceston hissed through clenched teeth.

*Do not hurt him,' Will ordered. *He is deluded-'

*And dangerous in his foolishness,' Meg said. Her eyes narrowed, her patience exhausted.

Through the curtains of low branches, Will glimpsed Strangewayes twisting and turning. Grace was now stifling her urge to call out so as not to attract attention, but he could see she was struggling to break free. As the younger man stumbled over a fallen tree, Carpenter, Launceston and Meg circled him like a wolf pack.

Drawing his rapier, Strangewayes levelled it at the other spies. He clutched Grace to him. *You waste precious time,' Will cautioned, unable to keep the crack out of his voice.

Strangewayes took a step back, his heel pressing against a moss-covered mound. White eyes snapped open in the green, a black mouth tore wide, and the buried man screamed. The call was picked up in an instant. Shrieks rang out from trees and gra.s.sy banks and bubbling streams as the lost inhabitants of the village summoned their masters. The blood drained from Strangewayes' face as he realized that through his own naivety he had put Grace's life at more risk than Will ever had.

Cursing, Carpenter whirled, looking for a way out. Before any decision could be made, the screams stopped, leaving an unnatural silence that was even more chilling. *What have you done?' Carpenter croaked.

From the direction of the fortress, the mournful sound of a single bell rang out.

*The first alarm prepared them,' Will growled, trying to pierce the forest gloom. *Now they are coming.'

A tremor ran through the leaves above his head; the branches began to sway. After a moment, a tremendous wind tore at the branches like a herd of wild beasts marauding through the forest. The angle of the sunbeams shifted as if the sun had been hurled towards the horizon, and a deep, abiding gloom began to unfurl among the trees.

Will grabbed Grace's wrist and wrenched her out of Strangewayes' grasp. *They took Jenny. They will not take you,' he snarled. Beaten, the younger spy cried out in impotent fury, but Will was already picking a path away from the gathering dark. A drumbeat began to roll out deep in the forest at his back, the pounding growing louder by the moment. It was the sound of pursuit.

*Will, do not fear for me,' Grace cried out. *I chose to come with you in the full knowledge of the dangers that awaited.' Her breath caught as they scrambled up a steep bank. *I am not afraid to die,' she gasped.

*Death is the least of our fears,' Will growled. Forcing aside what might lie ahead, he thought back to the charts he had studied on the Corneille Noire. The vast Caroni river's meanderings had been punctuated by falls and rapids, fast water gushing by high banks. There lay the one chance of escaping their pursuers.

Crashing through the branches with one arm thrown across his face, he yanked Grace along so hard her feet barely touched the ground. The drumming swelled behind them. Out of the corner of his eye, Will spied Meg, Launceston and Carpenter pushing through the undergrowth in the same direction, but the young fool Strangewayes was nowhere to be seen. He glanced over his shoulder and instantly regretted it.

Spectral, cadaverous faces snarling like wild beasts were emerging from the gloom. The pursuers thundered ever closer, bounding like hounds on all fours or swinging off branches and springing from tree trunks. Some were shaven-headed and bare-chested, with belts crossed over their torsos and axes or swords strapped to their backs. Others were ghosts in grey and silver doublets, white hair streaming, wicked-looking blades clenched in their fists. Will counted at least twenty of them: the Unseelie Court's dreaded Hunters. Never slowing, never stopping, until they had their quarry; no more ruthless predators existed on the face of the earth. He had confronted them before, in the dark of an Edinburgh night and on the rain-lashed roof of Notre Dame cathedral in Paris, and it had taken all of his skill and experience and a dose of good fortune to survive.

Twenty. Will's blood ran cold.

The glowing green world darkened as if storm clouds had swept across the sun. The suffocating heat of the day gave way to an unnatural chill. On the breeze rode the loamy stink of the grave. The drumbeat turned to thunder and Will knew their time must be near. Yet ahead the gloom looked a little brighter and he thought he could hear cascading water. So near, he thought. Grace was trying to hide her fear and in that moment he loved her more. He raised his head, showing his defiance.

On the edge of his vision, a flash of movement. Carpenter sprawled across the forest floor, one of the Hunters clinging to his back like an ape. Clawed hands rose and fell. There was blood. Realizing his friend had fallen, Launceston skidded to a halt. Whirling round, he drew his rapier and ran towards his companion.

Will ran on, feeling the ground shake under his feet. Grace's hand was, it seemed, his only link with life.

Skirts held high, Meg danced through the undergrowth to his left, her red hair flying. With a frustrated cry, she flung her back against a tree and waited. Will locked eyes with her, and for one moment she smiled defiantly before her features hardened and her gaze flicked back to the approaching threat. As one of the Hunters leapt at her, she slashed at the thing with her dagger. Will felt grim pleasure as the agonized cry rang out.

Meg slipped from view. The gloom closed all around until he could see only that small circle of bright light ahead, drawing him on. Grace gasped and sobbed for breath, trying to keep a brave face. Behind him, more screams rang out a man or woman, he couldn't tell a and the sound of rending and tearing, like a pack of dogs fighting over a ham bone. For Grace's sake, he hid his growing despair.

Through the thinning screen of leaves and branches, the sunlight blazed brighter. He could smell the dank aromas of the river, and over the pounding of his own feet he could clearly hear the rush of water.

As he broke out of the gloom under the trees into the hot sun, he felt a weight slam into his back. Losing hold of Grace, he pitched forward and hit the ground hard. Skidding across the sward, he rolled over and then felt his legs swing out over a drop. He kicked wildly and dug his fingers into the turf as he slid round, and down. The roar of the rushing river rose up from somewhere beneath his boots. He forced himself not to look down. Saving Grace was now all that mattered.

As he tried to haul himself up on shaking arms, he caught sight of her terror-stricken face. She lay sprawled, two sword-lengths away from him, one desperate arm outstretched. From the dark around her head, ghastly faces appeared, baleful eyes fixed upon Will. Bony hands clawed out of the gloom, s.n.a.t.c.hing her hair, pulling at her arms, her kirtle. Grace screamed, the sound drowning out Will's cry.

His clutching fingers failing, Will felt leaves, twigs, slide under his nails as he scrabbled desperately to hold on. He called again, his voice cracking as those ghostly hands dragged Grace back into the dark.

And then his fingers tore free and he felt himself falling, Grace's expression of sheer terror branded on to his soul.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN.

WILL PLUNGED INTO the icy torrent. The black water closed over his head. m.u.f.fled booms rumbled in his ears, and then he kicked out, grabbing one precious gulp of air before the flow wrenched him along. The roar of the crashing river engulfed him. Spun round, he slammed against a rock, and another, almost dashing his wits from his head. His chest burned as he fought to savour his last breath. s.n.a.t.c.hes of the world around him flickered through the constant dunkings: soaring banks of grey rock, overhanging trees against blue sky, spikes of sunlight punching into the water, but no hideous white faces peering down at him.

After what felt like an eternity, the flow eased. The narrow gorge gave way to low, tree-lined banks as the river broadened. With the last of his strength, Will crawled towards the shallows, stumbling out of the lapping black water to crash down on the muddy bank. As he heaved in great lungfuls of air, the thunder of his heart subsided and the realization of his grim situation settled on him. He shook his head and tried to drive that last sight of Grace's dread-infused face from his thoughts, but it lingered, haunting him. The cries of his companions still rang in his ears too, and he felt a deep guilt that he had brought them all to this terrible point. But then he shook his head and sat up. Nothing would be gained from wallowing in self-pity. Rescue or revenge, those were the twin paths that lay ahead of him now.

Soaked to the skin, he rose on shaking legs and checked he still had his dagger and his rapier, and that the velvet-wrapped mirror was still safe in his pouch. Once he had recovered, he forged on into the trees.

The sun was slipping past its highest point by the time he had followed the course of the river back to where the Unseelie Court had mounted their attack. He c.o.c.ked his head, listening for any sound of the others, but heard no human voice. Stealth was the only way to proceed, however long it took. He would not make Strangewayes' mistake. His eyes grew accustomed to the strange world of leaf and moss, slanting sunbeams and whirling insects, and whenever he encountered any misshapen tree or hummock that might hide one of the subsumed people he gave it a wide berth. There in the glade he saw signs of struggle, the odd spatter of blood, but no worse. That meant there was still hope, he told himself, though a part of him feared the opposite.

Will ignored the growling of his stomach; it had been almost a day since he had gnawed on the last of the ship's biscuit. He pushed and hacked his way through trailing vines and th.o.r.n.y bushes in the direction of the Unseelie Court's Fortress Crepuscule.

For the rest of the day, he weaved through the thick forest, occasionally pausing to clamber up the soaring trees to get his bearings. The gold caps on the black basalt towers were like beacons, drawing him inexorably towards them. It was as shadow slid into dips and hollows, and the bloated red sun settled down on the horizon, that he reached his destination.

He felt a chill as he crept to the treeline and looked down the slope into a hollow where the ma.s.sive fortress stood. The Unseelie Court's dwelling place dwarfed any he had seen, even the Escorial of Philip of Spain. Towering black walls enclosed a lake of shimmering gold covering every roof and dome of the castle buildings. In the ruddy light, it glowed like fire. Along the battlements, nothing moved. Will scanned the walls, frowning. When it came to the Unseelie Court, human eyes could never be trusted, and he suspected unseen sentinels would be looking out over the surrounding forest.

As Will gathered his thoughts a low groan disturbed the eerie silence. The main gate a the height of six men a ground slowly open and a column of figures moved out into the fading light. At the front was a Fay on a black stallion, his head raised as he surveyed the darkening forest with slit eyes. He wore a silver helm and armour with whorls etched on it in black filigree, and in his right hand he held upright a silver-tipped spear. Behind him marched a raiding party of around twenty armoured Fay, bristling with swords and axes. Flanked by four others holding sizzling torches aloft, the column moved across the cobbles and on to the broad path leading into the forest. The gate shuddered shut.

A search party? Could any of the others yet live? However powerful the Fay were, they still could not see or know all. Perhaps one man could creep under their noses like a spider entering the Queen's bedchamber.

Once darkness had fallen, Will left his hiding place and crawled down the incline among the thick, spiky-leaved bushes. Around the fortress perimeter he crept, until the full moon cast long shadows over silvered ground. The rear wall was cut off by a dense barrier of th.o.r.n.y bushes. When he tossed a stone over the top, but never heard it fall, he guessed the fortress sat on the edge of a sheer drop. His heart sank as he concluded there was no obvious way to steal inside, no drainage tunnels, no sluices, no handholds on the soaring gla.s.s-smooth walls. Returning to the main entrance of the colossal fortress, he sank into the shadows at the foot of the wall and pondered his options. Determination gripped him; he would not be defeated.

Barely had the thought crossed his mind when he caught sight of a lone figure stumbling along the road out of the forest dark. No Fay this, Will saw from the rolling gait, but he still felt shocked when the moonlight revealed Strangewayes. The young spy looked broken, shambling like a man in his cups, his head bowed, his shirt torn, his face streaked with dirt and blood.

Will wondered if the torment of what he had done had driven him mad. Why else would he be stumbling up to the gates of h.e.l.l, alone and unarmed? Will pressed himself against the wall, which felt icy against his skin despite the heat, ready to drag Strangewayes off the path when he neared. But a stone's throw from the vast door the younger man shuffled to a halt and raised his head, looking up at the dizzying height of the imposing edifice. Before Will could move, he shook his fist at the fortress and roared in a cracking voice, *Give her back to me.'

Will stiffened; it was too late now.

*You cannot have her,' Strangewayes raged. Spittle flew from his mouth. *Take me instead. I deserve to die. But set her free, I beg of you.'

With a resonant rumble, the gate began to grind open once more.

Strangewayes, you fool, Will thought. You have ordered your own death a or something far, far worse. If he tried to save the other man, he knew his own life would be forfeit. Then what of Jenny, and what of revenge for whatever had happened to the others? Sickened by his powerlessness, Will could only watch as the younger spy peered into the black maw of the gates. After a moment, the blood drained from his face, but he didn't run and Will admired him for that.

Two figures walked out, their faces obscured by shadow despite the moonlight. Guards, Will guessed, dressed in out-of-time grey bucklers and breeches. Their too-pale hands rested on the sculpted silver hilts of their swords.

*I am not afraid of you,' Strangewayes shouted, his voice cracking with fear. *Take me . . . to Grace.'

Will's hand hovered over the hilt of his own blade. His every instinct told him to rush to Strangewayes' aid, but he forced himself to hold back: this was his moment. Sneaking along the wall while the guards were occupied, he slipped round the door and darted into the dark interior. Yet as the shadows swallowed him, for all Strangewayes' folly, he couldn't help but feel guilt that he had turned his back on a companion . . . and so consigned him to death.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT.