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Act 14, The Safe House

Walsingham chaired the meeting as usual. Simon attended to take notes and William to represent the enforcement end of the operation. Pooley was the star, though, Pooley and his watcher teams. The spy handed Walsingham every address visited by Ridolphi.

"Let me see," said Walsingham. "He spends a great deal of time at the Spanish Embassy. Hmmm. I see we have the usual list of suspects. He has been passing money around Catholic sympathisers. Make a note of the names, Tunstall. We will mount a series of raids after the next batch of Jesuits arrive. I suspect that we may pick up a few hiding at these addresses. Of course, the Spanish secret service would not use any of these people. Too obvious."

"What are we looking for?" asked William, fascinated. Secret service methodology was a new experience.

"A safe house for the plotters. De Mendoza will use an innocuous address that has no obvious links with known English Catholic families or the Spanish themselves," said Walsingham. "I see Ridolphi visits Madame Bouvier's hostel for young ladies at regular intervals. I wonder what His Holiness would say about that."

Simon and Pooley laughed; William looked baffled.

"It's a French brothel," Simon whispered in William's ear.

"Now this is more promising, a previously unknown address, the White Hart boarding house. Where would that be, Pooley?"

"It's a run-down area up in the south-central region below Watling Street," said Pooley.

"No access to the city wall or the river then?" Walsingham said.

"No, sir," confirmed Pooley.

"Useless for de Mendoza's purpose then. He needs a location suitable for getting his agents in and out of the city at night. Ridolphi visited a deserted house on four occasions. Stink Lane, where is that?"

"Below Thames Street, sir," said Pooley.

"On the river?"

"Yes sir, adjoining Billingsgate Dock," said Pooley.

"Easy access to the river and from there to anywhere in the world," said Walsingham. "Well done, Pooley, I think you have found a safe house. So how are you going to raid it, Captain?"

"What are my exact objectives?" asked William. He felt on firm ground now they had a military enterprise to discuss.

Walsingham ticked them off on his fingers. "I want the place secured. I want any documents and other objects in perfect condition. They will have a weighted bag handy to dump sensitive material in the Thames. I want everybody in there taken, preferably alive. I want it done quietly so I can set up a trap in the house to pick up morsels, before the Spanish realise that their safe house is blown."

"That won't be easy," said William.

"If it was easy then I wouldn't have had to call on one of John Hawkin's best men to arrange the enterprise, would I, Captain? Hmmm? Drake isn't available so I have you instead." Walsingham put his hands together as if in prayer.

William flushed with pleasure. He knew Walsingham was building up his morale, he had done the same himself too often not to recognise the trick, but he was extraordinarily pleased nonetheless. To be mentioned in the same sentence as Drake was most satisfying.

There will be no holding the arrogant, provincial whoreson now, thought Simon. Long experience allowed him to keep a straight face but he was disturbed. Walsingham would sing a different tune if he knew the captain's intentions towards his niece.

"Can you draw me the layout of the area, Pooley?" asked William.

The spy chalked an outline on a slate.

"Do you have a plan, Captain?" asked Walsingham.

"The house is right on the river?" He looked to Pooley for confirmation. The spy nodded. "Then we will need to enter from the land and river at the exact selfsame moment. Is there a place where a lookout man can see both points?"

"Here, captain, right at the head of the dock." Pooley marked a spot on the slate.

"Then we can do it, Sir Francis."

"Tomorrow then, Captain. Early while they are still asleep. Tunstall, go you with them to search for documents and evidence. You know what I need."

Lucy was back at her seat outside the window with a book lent to her by the keeper. She often visited him on his lonely watch and he had taken a shine to her. Gwilym sat by her with his feet outstretched.

"I am quite safe now the monster is dead, Gwilym," said Lucy.

"I suspect from what I 'ave heard that you were quite safe before, 'ighness," said Gwilym. "But 'is nibs 'as given me clear instructions and I don't care to contradict him."

The pair sat for a while in the sun.

"It's odd, 'ighness. I find you 'ere whenever 'is nibs 'as a meeting in 'is rooms."

"Has he a meeting, Gwilym?" Lucy said innocently. "One could not hear anything from here anyway."

"I certainly couldn't, 'ighness. But what can you 'ear, I wonder?"

Whoops, humans were so intuitive, thought Lilith. Their sharp, little minds could jump over chasms of ignorance to truth. She was still not sure how they did it. She had monitored Lucy's brain when the girl was using intuitive thinking many times. But she still did not understand the process. The People thought with small steps along determined routes but they did it very fast. Lucy thought slowly but in jumps. Lilith suspected that many of the intermediate linkages were being made but on some subconscious level.

"They have found a safe house," the girl used the unfamiliar term self-consciously. "Captain Hawkins intends to raid it tomorrow morning."

"And you want to go as well?" asked Gwilym.

"What if they find another demon? They would be massacred." Lucy sucked on a nail pensively.

Gwilym snorted. "That bunch ain't so easily massacred, 'ighness. They will feel that they 'ave to look after you, if you go as well. Then there is 'is nibs to consider."

"Gwilym, I can make the difference. I know I can. Oh, I wish I had been born a boy." She stamped her foot.

"Well miss, I am sure God 'ad 'is purpose in making you a maid." Gwilym smiled at her.

Liliith noticed that Lucy blushed and added the data to her model.

"I must go with them, Gwilym. How can I persuade them?"

"You will need to convince that captain. He will be loath to take you for two reasons. Firstly, he will be reluctant to annoy 'is nibs and secondly—he's set his cap at you and will be terrified of getting you hurt."

Lucy flushed again. It seemed to be a day for it. "Stuff and nonsense, Gwilym. Sir Francis would never give me to a sea rover. The idea!"

Gwilym ignored her. "If you must go then you 'ave to find reasons to overcome those objections. As to your protection, why 'ighness you may remind 'em that I am charged with that."

"You don't have to come, Gwilym. There is no reason for you to be put in danger as well."

He just looked at her.

"I am sorry, Gwilym. That was a foolish remark of a silly girl. Forgive me," she said. "My uncle has charged you with my safety so of course you would follow me down to hell, if necessary."

"Not to worry, 'ighness. You weren't thinking of trespassing on Beelzebub's estates were you?"

"Not at present," said Lucy. "There is enough wickedness in London for me. But I will make sure you are the first to know if I intend a descent to the Pit."

A door opened and Simon and William walked out in deep conversation. "They do seem to be such pals now," said Lucy.

'Are you not pleased that their quarrel is reconciled?' thought Lilith.

'Yeees,' thought Lucy. 'But I don't see why they have to be so thick with each other. It unnerves me.'

Lilith's human behaviour model ran round its loop. Well, well, she thought. Lucy is worried that they will talk about her. But why should that bother the girl?

"Captain, Master Tunstall," said Lucy. "How intimate is your conversation? Do I interrupt?"

"You never interrupt, Lady Dennis," said William. "How can such beauty ever be an interruption?"

Simon's lips curled. Watching the captain flirt was like watching a cow ice-skating.

'My, isn't he gallant?' thought Lilith, admiringly.

Lucy lowered her head modestly and then looked up at William through her lashes. "Why, Captain, how gallant you are."

Simon wondered what she was up to. He knew Lucy far better than William. She was never more devious than when she adopted her "little lost girl among men" pose.

Lucy took his arm. "There was a small matter you can help me with," she said.

She was actually simpering, Simon noted with alarm. Oh well, the gallant sea dog would learn the hard way. The mariners might sing that "all the nice girls like a sailor" but, in Simon's experience, all the nice girls liked a titled gentleman with five thousand pounds a year income from his estates. Lucy was after something.

It was like watching a boat getting it wrong shooting London Bridge. Everyone could see that it would come to no good but there was nothing anyone could do. The water carried events inexorably on to disaster.

"Anything in my power is yours, milady," William said.

"Thank you, Captain," Lucy positively purred. "Then I will come with you on the raid tomorrow."

"What!" William looked horrified.

And there is the disaster, thought Simon with grim amusement. Let's see you get out of this one, my bold salt.

"Under no circumstances," said William. "How do you know about the raid?"

"You promised," said Lucy, ignoring his question. "You gave your word."

"I did not!" said William.

"Anything in your power, you said." She pouted and stamped her foot.

"Yes, but—" said William, trying to get a word in.

"Just because I am a weak and feeble girl, you think you can cozen and ignore me."

Simon choked back a laugh. Queen Elizabeth was fond of the weak-and-feeble woman line, usually just before cutting some poor bastard off at the knees. Lucy had obviously been studying her technique.

"I don't—" said William.

"It's not fair," said Lucy, stamping her foot again.

Here come the tears, thought Simon. That's the next weapon in her formidable armoury.

"And all I am trying to do is protect you," Lucy sobbed.

"Protect me!" said William, in astonishment. The concept of him needing protection was a little difficult to come to terms with.

"Very well, if you won't let me come with you then I shall have to do the job alone," said Lucy.

"Out of the question. You may be strong and fast but you are not bulletproof. One unlucky shot, that's all it takes, my lady, to make you worm food. I have made my decision and it's final. You are not going near that house."

"And how will you stop me?" she asked.

That of course is the rub, thought William. He could order her and be disobeyed. He could not physically restrain her. It was socially unacceptable and probably practically impossible due to that damn demon she carried around with her. That demon had got to go. He couldn't even put Lucy across his knee and administer the smacking she so richly deserved. The spoilt little rich girl just did not seem to understand the danger.

He controlled his anger with an almost physical effort. William was not used to being contradicted to his face in this way. When they married, Lucy would have to know her place. The rational part of his mind pointed out that the girl would probably have a very clear idea of her place; it just wouldn't coincide with his view. The stupid irrelevance of his thoughts made him laugh out loud, which broke the argument.

Lucy looked at him with a strange expression.

'A man who can laugh at his own pomposity is a rare catch,' thought Lilith. 'I like your sea captain, Lucy.'

'He's not my sea captain,' thought Lucy, carefully concealing her underlying thoughts from Lilith.

"I will do a deal with you, Lady Dennys. You can come with us . . ." said William, carefully.

Lucy squeaked and struck her hands together.

"On one condition," William continued, over her intervention. "An enterprise can only have one commander or it is lost. You will consider yourself a soldier in my service and obey my orders without argument. Without argument and with alacrity, milady."

"Of course, Captain. I shall consider myself your servant in this affair." Lucy held her hands meekly in front of her, the epitome of womanly obedience. She didn't fool William for a moment.

The sun was making one of his dazzling appearances over London. The early morning showers had cleaned the air and washed away some of London's waste. Now the sunlight glittered off the wet city and sparkled along the Thames. Around Billingsgate dock, homeless beggars stirred in the doorways and alcoves where they had taken shelter. Bright rays of light burst through gaps in black towering clouds. England's fickle weather gods were still undecided whether to grant the people of London sun or rain so were supplying a little of each.

A seafaring man strolled down to the dock and took the air. He positioned himself on a convenient timber and produced a pipe. That the man indulged in the new vice of smoking marked him as well travelled, an oceanic sailor, then, rather than a coast-crawler. Lighting the pipe was a long and complex affair. Smethwick appeared fully engrossed in the task.

A barge sailed up the Thames past the custom houses and legal quays that clustered against the river to the west of the Bloody Tower. The vessel was piled high with cargo that was covered by an oiled cloth. The crew of three lounged unconcerned on the deck. One still appeared to be asleep. Early morning barges like these carried the night catch from the fishing fleet to Billingsgate. Her Majesty's hungry London subjects depended on them and the first delivery of the morning got best price.

The seafaring man watched the barge casually. He took his cap off and stretched, waving the garment in the air. A man and woman walked arm in arm across the head of the dock. The man was dressed in cheap but flashy clothes. He clearly worked with his head rather than his hands. He looked like a pox doctor's clerk. His doxy was no better. She wore a cheap imitation of a fashion dress and her makeup was far too heavy for one so young. Possibly the white ceruse that covered her face hid the ravages of smallpox or, indeed, some other pox. The couple argued as they walked. She slapped his face. He grabbed her arm and pushed her forward. She stumbled and responded with furious accusations. Smethwick chuckled and pulled on his pipe.

The barge sailed straight past Billingsgate dock towards London Bridge. The master shook his head at the crew. Fishmonger's Hall, with its associated market, was just the other side, above Old Swan Stairs, but a fish barge could never shoot the bridge safely. That was why Billingsgate dock was where it was. The barge crew seemed to wake up late to their predicament and they hastily tried to turn the boat.

The couple walked up Stink Lane, still arguing. The man dragged the doxy along. They stopped outside a doorway as their dispute reached a climax. The clerk held the woman by the forearms and shook her. The beggars watched with curiosity.

On the river, things were not going well. The barge's bow had come round too slowly. It crashed sideways into the embankment where a house overhung the river. Somehow the crew stayed on their feet. They flung grapnels up at the house's windows. The oiled cloth was flung aside to reveal men armed with pistols and cutlasses. The men clustered around the ropes and began to climb.

Smethwick blew a piercing blast on a seaman's whistle. The couple stopped arguing. The man stepped back. The girl jumped into the air and unleashed a devastating high kick. The entire door frame burst into the house with the door still attached. The girl fell down onto her bottom but rolled clear. All round her beggars jumped to their feet with surprising athleticism, producing weapons from under their rags. They disappeared through the shattered doorway.

One bulky beggar made straight for the girl. "You are all right, 'ighness?" asked Gwilym. The girl nodded and moved slightly as if to enter the doorway. Gwilym touched her gently on the arm with one finger.

"I recall my promise to Captain Hawkins. I will wait for his signal before I enter," she said, impatiently.

Gwilym and Simon exchanged glances. Any man who planned his actions on the expectation that a woman would keep her word was a fool, a fool who deserved all the grief that he would undoubtedly receive, thought Simon. Women were flighty, inconstant creatures. Blaming them for changing their mind was like blaming the sea for the tides changing. It was part of their nature.

William led the charge through the shattered doorframe, followed by a half-dozen Swallows. Clattering footsteps sounded up the stairs. "Spread out along the ground floor," he said to his men. "I will take the top."

He ran up the stairs. A door slammed shut in front of him. He tried the handle but it was locked. "If the maid can do it . . . !"

William kicked the door around the lock. Wood splintered but it held. He backed up and shoulder barged the panel. This time it gave. William stumbled as he went into the room beyond. He found himself on his knees in front of a man pointing a pistol at him. William looked down the barrel at minimum range. The man couldn't miss. Such an ending was always a distinct possibility for a sea dog, even one as successful as William. He was philosophical about his chances of reaching old age and had faced death before, but this time he had a sense of loss, a sense of unfinished business with Lucy Dennys. The man grinned savagely and pulled the trigger.

William watched the fuse come down on the powder in the priming pan. The powder ignited with a hiss and flash of white smoke. William closed his eyes waiting for the main discharge. It never came. The man's grin faded; he looked in horror at the misfired weapon and threw it at William.

William beat it away with his cutlass. The man threw himself at William in a desperate effort to escape. William struck him on the chin with the handguard of his cutlass. The man dropped without a sound. A sailor rushed inside, waving a pistol, and fell headlong over William's victim. His pistol went off and blew a hole in the wall.

William's voice bellowed through the broken door. "The devil take you, Harrison. Watch what you're doing. You could have shot someone. You could have shot me!"

There was a long pause then William stuck his head out of the doorway. "You may come in now, milady. We have secured the building."

Lucy and Gwilym walked over the broken door frame. Strong wooden bars had secured the door and they were still in their brackets but to no avail. Lucy's kick had pulled the brackets clean out of the wall.

"Oh dear. Sir Francis wanted to use this house as bait. I rather think that the damage will prejudice that. Only a very stupid Spanish agent could fail to notice something was wrong. Remind me never to annoy you, milady," said William.

Gwilym just smiled.

The sea dogs searched the house with their usual finesse. There were a great many smashing and breaking sounds. They had brought housebreaking tools with them. The boatswain appeared out of a front room that overlooked the river. He held a scrawny man by the neck like a kitten. In the other hand, he had a set of horse saddlebags.

"Matey here was shoving these out of the river window as I was climbing in," said the boatswain.

"This is what Sir Francis wants," said Simon. "The important information will be in here." He opened the bags and pulled out folded letters and documents. "It's in code," Simon said. "That's a good sign. The papers must be important. It would be helpful if your men could find the decoding key."

Simon found stones at the bottom of the bags. "My congratulations, Captain, on your crew's skill. All would have been lost if this had gone in the Thames."

William said nothing but he was clearly pleased. He pulled up the scrawny man's head to look at him. Scrawny spat at William. "You'll get nothing from me," he said, spitefully.

"Oh good, a blusterer," said Gwilym. "They break quickly when you put them on the rack. It's the quiet ones that you have to use red-hot irons on." The man said nothing more but he turned pale.

"Sir, look at this," said a seaman to William. The man held a small chest that was securely bound in iron. "I'll open it," said another sailor and put a pistol to the lock.

"Stop, you whoreson," said the boatswain. Then to Lucy, "Begging your pardon, ma'am."

"You will spray us all with iron and lead, you fool," said William, angrily.

"Mayhap, I can help," said Lucy.

She produced her blade, Dee's dagger. For a moment she just stood there as if gathering her strength. The astrological symbols on the weapon glowed with red fire and the familiar sparkles gathered in Lucy's dark eyes. In a swift movement, she thrust the tip of the dagger into the gap between the lid and the body of the chest. The blade cut straight through the iron tongue of the lock as if it were paper. William flipped open the lid. Gold and silver coins gleamed.

William slammed the lid shut. "Boatswain, take you charge of this. Put it in the barge."

"So Ridolphi stashed the Vatican's pay-chest here," said Simon.

"I claim booty shares for the Swallow's crew," said William.

Some sailors cheered.

"Silence those men, boatswain. I will brook no indiscipline," said William. "Master Tunstall and Lady Dennys will get officer's shares, Gwilym a leading seaman's and Sir Francis the owner's tranche."

"I will get some money of my own?" asked Lucy, in excitement. "I have never had any money of my own before."

William was momentarily confused. Lucy was heiress to a great estate. She was one of the wealthiest girls in England. Then he understood. Lucy might be the heiress but Sir Francis controlled her estate as the law decreed. And he would continue to so do until she married whereupon her husband would own it all. Lucy had never had any money that was hers to spend before. Not that she ever went short of anything but she did not buy it. He had an insight into how her experience of life had conditioned her personality. No wonder Lucy could appear so sophisticated in some circumstances and so childlike in others. She witnessed some of the great affairs of state but had less independence or control of her life than a dockside tavern girl. He resolved to be more patient with her in the future.

The search continued but nothing further was found. William was about to call it a day when Simon grasped his arm. "Where are the cellars, captain? All waterside houses in London have cellars. Many old houses have underground tunnels as well, that connect to the riverbank or other buildings."

"Cellars," said William to the Swallows. "Find me the cellars."

They got to work but no amount of tapping on floors or ripping up floorboards could locate anything.

"Mayhap, there are no cellars," said William.

"Not likely." Simon shook his head.

"Mayhap I can help," said Lucy. She knelt in the middle of the ground floor main room and produced a diamond.

"I am going to work white magic," Lucy said to the men. "Leave now if it bothers you."

"Naaah," said the boatswain. "I always go to the wisewoman to get me boils fixed after a long voyage. Bit 'o white magic never did no harm to anyone."

Lucy nodded. "Please all be silent then, I need to concentrate."

She cut a circle in the floor around her using the athame. "Stay outside of this circle when I work the spell. I am going to use light magic to construct a cone of power. When I release it, the spell will track past magics."

Lucy paused as if trying to work out what to say. "Before I start," she said, diffidently, "it would help if a man gave me the fivefold kiss. This is difficult, you see, and the kiss helps focus the magic."

"That would be my job, Lady Dennys," said William. "What do you want me to do?"

Lucy knelt and placed her hands palm up on her knees. "You kiss me on the hands and knees and lastly my mouth. That makes the sign of the pentagram. You say 'I give you my power,' and it's done. It has to be a man, you see. Only a man can give me power."

William knelt in front of her. Then he bent his head and kissed her hands, her knees, and gently on her lips. He looked at her gravely, "I give you my power, milady."

Maybe he imagined it, but he thought he caught a sigh and a faint mist moving from his lips to hers as they parted.

She stared at the diamond and began to sing.

 
"My fancy did I fix
"in faithful form and frame,
"in hope there should no blustering blast
"have power to move the same.
"And as the Gods do know
"and the world can witness clear,
"I never served another Saint
"nor Idol other where."
 

She sang quietly but her voice seemed to grow until it filled the room. The diamond sparkled in time to the song.

 
"But one, and that was he
"whom I in heart did shrine,
"and made account that precious pearl
"and jewel rich was mine."
 

The diamond glowed brighter and brighter throbbing in time to the rhythm of the song. The light around the diamond rotated and began to send off spirals. William was reminded of a firework called a Saint Katherine's Wheel. It was a cloth tube of gunpowder wrapped around a wheel nailed to a post such that it spun freely. When the powder was lit at one end, the wheel was forced around creating a whirlpool of fire.

Lucy spread her arms. The tendrils of rotating light spread out, breaking through the circle cut in the floor. The men backed away in alarm. William strode forward until the whirlpool of light spun through his legs. He stood head up, legs apart, one hand on his sword hilt and the other on his hip. A tendril of light curled around his leg.

Lucy spoke, "Look at him, big arrogant man. I suppose he isn't scared of anything?"

Except that Lucy had not said anything. She still sang into the diamond.

 
"No toile nor labour great
"could weary me herein,
"for still I had a steely heart
"the golden prize to win.
"And sure my suite was heard
"I spent no time in vane,
"a grant of friendship at his hand
"did quite remove my pain."
 

Lucy's voice was in his head. A second person answered the girl. This was a woman with a lower husky sound. Her accent was passing strange. The consonants were hard and the vowels short. She spoke an English that William had never heard before.

"You are too hard on him. He just wants to show his men that there is nothing to be frightened about. I think your sea captain looks rather dishy."

Lucy's voice answered, "Dishy? Even your words for men involve food, glutton demon. And, as I keep telling you, he is not my sea captain."

"I rather think he is," said the strangely accented woman. "And you could do a lot worse, girl."

The light swirl moved past William and the voices faded away. Lucy continued singing.

 
"With solemn vow and released dove
"was knit the true tied knot,
"and friendly did we treat of love
"as place and time we got.
"Now would we send our sighs
"as far as they might go,
"now would we work with open ties
"to blaze our inward show."
 

Somehow, the magic had connected Lucy's mind to his. William also realised that the second voice in Lucy's head must have been the demon that possessed her. William had not given much thought to what Lucy must be experiencing but he had not expected possession to involve womanly squabbles over men. Somehow demons should be more, well, demonic. Another thought struck him. They had been talking about him and the demon had been pressing his suit to Lucy. This was clearly a demon of unusual intelligence and sensibility. It still had to go, of course, but perhaps not quite yet.

The spirals of light spread out to encompass the room and the raiding party. No one else showed any reaction. So only William could connect to Lucy in this way. He had given part of himself to her through the fivefold-kiss so now they were entwined.

The room winked in white light. Traces of evil-looking purple and bilious green pulsed out of synchronicity from various places. Shadowy green and purple ghosts of men and other things faded in and out of reality, things whose forms were horrible to behold. An outline of a door appeared in purple in the panelling of one of the walls. Lucy raised her arm and pointed to it. "There. That is the source of the contamination. The cellar is there." Then she pitched over and the pulsing light winked out.

William caught her in his arms. "Steady, lady."

She clung to him for a second but recovered almost immediately. "This is getting to be a habit, Captain. Breathing, remember? I have to breathe."

He held her a moment longer than necessary and whispered in her ear, "Your demon was right, milady. I was just putting on a show for my men; actually, I was terrified. Incidentally, you are quite dishy yourself, whatever that means."

Her eyes widened in shock and she put a hand up to her mouth, "Oh!"

I have you, milady, William thought. He had the weather gauge on her for the first time since they had met. That would give her something to ponder.

The diamond was just a diamond again. Once the spell was over the hidden door was invisible but William had marked its position. He gestured to the boatswain who spat on his hands and seized a hammer. Three blows stove in the panelling to reveal a closet.

Inside on the floor was a trapdoor. William reached forward to raise it. Lucy saw him move as if in slow motion. "Nooooo," she screamed, crossing the floor in a single leap. Lucy seized William and threw him back against a wall.

"Steady, milady, steady. I have to breathe as well," he said.

"There is great danger down there. Trust me," said Lucy. "I must go first."

"I trust your intuition of danger," said William. "That is why I shall lead, milady. You promised to obey me. Remember."

"I promised to obey the orders of my captain," said Lucy. "Not the wilful behaviour of a stubborn boy. You must let me go first, William, for I am the best choice. Let me do what God has ordered for me."

William stood silent while his head argued with his heart.

"She is right, Captain," said the boatswain.

"You are silent, Master Tunstall," said William.

"I was just thinking that I wish I had half your courage, William. I do not envy you in this but—Lady Dennys is right. I will not take cover in equivocation."

William ground his teeth. "Devil take you all. Very well. You lead, milady. I shall follow close behind you."

"Close behind me, Captain," said Gwilym. "I guard 'er 'ighness' back."

"Behind you then, damn you all." William flung down his cutlass.

"Thank you, Captain." Lucy kissed him on the cheek. "You may catch me if I fall but remember that I have to breathe."

"I am keen that you continue to breathe, milady, and I shall always catch you if you fall." William failed to see any humour in this.

"I shall also come," said Simon.

"You most certainly will not," said William, savagely. "You instructed me on duty, Master Tunstall, now I tell you that yours is to stay here safely. You are to get my men out and make sure Sir Francis has a full report if we do not return. I want no rescue missions, understand?" Then his voice softened. "No one doubts your courage, Simon. Now you must do the most difficult job of all."

'Are you ready, Lilith?' thought Lucy.

Lilith was more than ready. She was waiting expectantly.

'Yes, Lucy, I will switch you to dark vision as soon as the light fades. Remember that you must allow for the lack of colour and perspective.'

Lilith suspected that they were all in grave danger. She had not liked the look of the things revealed as shadow echoes by the magic spell, things that could not have originated in this world. She suspected that there was a portal nearby. If so, it would have to be eliminated.

Lucy stood for a moment holding her dagger. Her skin glowed and her hair rustled as if in a wind. The glyphs on her dagger glowed deep red. She bent down and flipped open the heavy trapdoor with one hand.

A set of wooden stairs descended steeply into the dark. Lilith extended her senses to maximum as Lucy walked down carefully. She also piggybacked through Lucy's senses to get maximum coverage of the electromagnetic and mechanical spectrum. The stairs had no guardrails but were essentially sound. The girl stopped at the bottom and looked around the cellar carefully. On the riverside of the cellar was a bricked-up archway. Lucy walked over to it and ran her hands along the brickwork.

'It feels old and solid to me, Lilith. These bricks have been here for years. What do you think?'

Lilith extended the lobes of her gravitonic senses. 'I agree and the tunnel beyond the bricks appears to be choked with mud. I think this is a dead end.'

Lucy nodded in the dark. 'One final test.'

She pulled her hand back and rammed the heel of her wrist hard into the brickwork with a loud thud. Dust flew and bricks cracked but the wall was unmoved. Lilith immediately ran diagnostic routines on Lucy's body. The results were most gratifying. The energy fields had protected Lucy completely. I am, Lilith thought to herself, getting good at this.

Candles appeared on the stairs. Gwilym and William joined her on the cellar floor.

"Do you not need a candle, milady?" asked William.

"No, I can see better if I keep my night vision," she said.

William thought her answer odd, as no one had any night vision in the complete absence of light, no one who was not possessed, that is. He noticed that she avoided looking at the candle directly but, nonetheless, silver reflected from her eyes. They looked hard and faceted, almost crystalline, almost like an insect's. He shuddered, then was ashamed. She deserved better from him than ignorant fear but it was difficult to accept her condition, especially as most of the time she looked most wonderfully human.

Lucy carefully studied her surroundings then she cleared away dirt from one corner. William helped her. Another trapdoor lay hidden under a thin layer of floor rushes. It was stiff and awkward. Lucy needed both hands to lift it so she sheathed her blade. A foul smell emerged, like a slaughterhouse in summer.

'Careful, Lucy,' thought Lilith. 'I suspect that there is a portal nearby.'

'I know, Lilith.'

"A cellar under a cellar. I suspect that this was used for stashing smuggled contraband. They would bring it in by the river tunnel then hide it down here," William said.

Lucy knelt and stuck her head down the hole. "I can't see any steps but the drop is less than two yards."

Before any one could object, she dropped down.

"'Ere 'old my candle," said Gwilym to William. He dropped down after her. William handed the candles down then followed. The ceiling was so low that the two men had to stoop.

"Christ's blood, what a smell," William said, holding his nose. "What are those?"

Small objects lay scattered around, half buried in mud. The under-cellar floor must be very close to the water table.

'Lucy, I have analysed DNA residues in the air as you breathe. They come from mammalian tissue and bone,' said Lilith.

'And that means?' asked Lucy.

'Animals,' said Lilith, 'including humans.'

"Bones and body parts," said Lucy to William, in a matter-of-fact way. "I think some of them are human."

"It's a charnel house." William was horrified. "Was this Packenham's lair?"

"I don't think so," Lucy said. "My location spell put him in north London. I don't think he travelled very far from his daytime rest to hunt victims by the time that we found him. The demonic possession was very strong within him by then and his hunger for blood was all-controlling."

"So something else lives 'ere. Careful, 'ighness." Gwilym moved close in behind her.

"There's an archway over there," Lucy said, and moved towards it before one of the men could object. Inside the arch was a brick-lined tunnel that was so low even Lucy had to stoop. Gwilym and William followed as best they could. The light from their candles threw Lucy's shadow forward but she could not see it. She saw instead the monochrome world of shades of heat. The wet floor was dark but the bricks stood out as they radiated thin sheets of warmth that had leached down from the morning sun.

'Lucy, I can sense a source of power up ahead,' thought Lilith. 'Halt.'

Lucy stopped so quickly that the men bumped into her.

"Are you alright, 'ighness,' said Gwilym.

"Yes, just a moment," she said.

'What's it doing? Is it a monster?' thought Lucy.

'No, I sense a device. I don't think it's functioning at the moment. It appears powered-down,' thought Lilith.

Lucy inched forward, slowly, followed by the men. The tunnel opened out into another brick-lined cellar. At the far end was a table with various religious paraphernalia on top.

"There's a passage way above that altar. I can see lit candles," William said, softly.

Lilith, and hence Lucy as their senses were merged, saw a flat rectangular panel vibrating with gravitational energy. Lilith was instantly on her guard. She probed the device but could not penetrate the surface.

"Move your candle up and down, Gwilym," Lucy said.

The man did so and the light at the far end faithfully followed him.

"It's a mirror," said William in wonder. "I have never seen such a large mirror."

"Yes, a mirror," said Lucy. "And mirrors are windows to the Other World."

Lilith thought that Lucy was probably right. They had found the portal. The girl moved forward slowly towards the altar. To the men, the mirror was a source of flickering light reflected from their candles. In Lucy's dark sight, the mirror was a black rectangle against the grey bricks. To Lilith's gravitonic senses, ripples of energy passed backwards and forwards, distorting the mirror's surface.

Lucy reached a hand out towards the mirror and touched it with her finger. It was like pushing against a membrane of semisolidified pitch or an animal's body. Her finger made an indentation. She pushed harder and met resistance. Lucy pulled her finger out and the surface sprang back, setting of an oscillation of ripples. The vibrations bounced of the edges of the mirror crisscrossing each other until the surface heaved like a turbulent sea. Energy leaked from it. Lilith detected electromagnetic energy at the various frequencies Lucy's body could detect. Probably, other wavelengths were also involved. That worried Lilith, as some wavelengths could be very destructive to human bodies. She set up a subroutine to monitor molecular ionisation damage.

Something else that was much worse emanated from the mirror, gravitons. That implied crossdimensional activity.

To Lucy's dark sight, the mirror began to glow. To Lilith's gravitonic senses, the surface was shot through with lightninglike gravitational energy. The men said nothing so Lilith assumed that to them it was still just a mirror. The energy continued to build up.

'Lucy, this is dangerous,' thought Lilith. 'Something is about to happen.'

"Captain, Gwilym, back up. I think I have done something foolish," Lucy said, urgently.

The men's large bodies fitted the narrow tunnel like bottle stoppers. They moved clumsily to turn around. Lucy faced the mirror. She drew out her dagger and its fiery warmth filled the tunnel with dull red light as her body energised the blade. The mirror vibrated with power and then disgorged energy with a thud that could be felt as power slammed the air. A tentacle poked through the mirror. It waved around, its tip seeming to smell the room. The tip orientated on Lucy.

'The mirror's a portal; something's coming through. Danger, Lucy, danger.' Lilith was extremely agitated.

"I can see that, Lilith." Unnerved, Lucy vocalised her thoughts. "For God's sake, hurry, gentleman. We soon won't be alone in here."

The tentacle struck like a cobra. It shot forward and curled around Lucy's ankles, whipping her legs out from under her. She crashed back into Gwilym, starting a chain reaction that had them all on the ground. The tentacle curled around her leg and gripped hard, pulling her towards the mirror. The men grabbed at her. Lucy slashed the tentacle with her knife. Lilith rammed power into the metal. The blade cut easily through the flesh, burning it away with a hiss of smoke. A terrible gurgling scream sounded from the Other World.

Gotcha, thought Lilith. I'll bet you never expected a gravitonically powered weapon, demon.

Lucy's blade had cut clean through and the tip of the tentacle flopped to the ground, twisting and coiling like a snake with the head cut off. Green slime pumped out. The injured tentacle thrashed the air and grabbed her around the legs. More tentacles slid through the mirror. One grabbed Lucy around the waist. Another entangled her right arm, so that she couldn't use her blade.

Lilith was horrified. She had underestimated the monster. The strains on Lucy's small body were immense. Lilith poured gravitonic power into Lucy's cells at a level she would not normally have dared. Lucy's body crackled with the energy fields that held her together. Without those fields, the tentacles would have ripped her apart. Lucy stuck her left hand into the brickwork to get a handhold and her companions held her tight. But it was no use, the pull of the tentacles was too strong and, inch by inch, they dragged her towards the mirror. Her companions clung desperately to her and were dragged along with her.

A head of horror thrust through the mirror. It was too large but it seemed boneless and able to distort its shape. The snout had a round mouth surrounded by sharp feeding palps that clacked against each other in endless rhythms. Inside the mouth, serrated grinding plates rotated. As the head oozed further through, a large bulbous eye popped out from over the mouth and stared at the girl with evil sentience. The demon stank. Waves of foul air arose off it every time it moved.

Lilith tried directing a stream of gravitons at the monster but it shrugged them off. She was completely helpless; she couldn't free Lucy.

Gwilym got his dagger under his right arm and sawed on the tentacle holding her right arm. It was like cutting wood. The sharp knife was barely able to knick the skin but the man was immensely strong and he pushed hard. His dagger slipped and peeled off a layer of the monster's skin. It screamed in pain and snatched the tentacle back, freeing the girl's right hand. Gwilym had given Lucy back an offensive option. Now she could fight.

The tentacle whipped back in at her again. This time she was ready and met it with an immaculately timed slash. The glyphs on the blade glowed bright red as it lopped off another tentacle tip. More screams and gurgles.

Lilith analysed the pattern of the graviton stream bouncing back off the monster. One useful result had emerged. 'It has an intricate structure behind the eye, Lucy. That's the weak point.'

"Let go of me. I need room to fight," Lucy said to the men.

Gwilym understood immediately and released her. William was more reluctant and Gwilym had to slap his hand away. As soon as the men released her, Lucy let go of the wall. The creature pulled her towards its mouth. Instead of resisting, she twisted to throw herself over the tentacles straight at the demon's head.

'Go deep, Lucy. Reach the nerve centre,' thought Lilith.

Lucy focussed all her energy into her right arm and punched through the demon's eye, sinking her hand wrist deep. The point of the dagger snagged momentarily on the shell around the demon's brain before cutting through. Lucy was sprayed in slime. The monster convulsed, flinging the girl from it like a horrified man might flick a poisonous spider off his face. She crashed back into the men, who broke her fall.

'The demon's dying. It's losing control of the portal,' thought Lilith.

The portal shut with an almost physical clang. Tentacles and body parts sprayed over the three before dissolving into dust.

'Get the mirror off the wall. We have to move it in space before something else opens it,' thought Lilith.

Lucy staggered back onto her feet and moved to the mirror. Her knife lay on the floor. It was unlit now but she saw it clearly in dark sight by its residual heat. Lucy put her left hand under it and flipped it up into her right.

'See that, Lilith.'

'Get the mirror down, Lucy.'

'How will this help?' Lucy thought.

'Moving the mirror will detune it from whatever it is linked to at the other end of the portal.'

'I see,' thought Lucy, in the tone that meant she had not got a clue what Lilith was rabbiting on about.

A nail in each corner held the mirror to the brickwork. She inserted her blade behind a nail and levered it out. After the third nail was removed, the polished steel fell of the wall under its own weight. Lucy casually put the mirror under her arm and walked down the tunnel to where her companions still sat.

"Upsidaisy, lazybones," she said.

Lucy extended him one hand to William to help him up and he shrank back from her.

William saw shock and hurt in her expression. Then she turned and walked away from him, face carefully blank. He sat there, shocked at his own reaction. A candle lay on its side, still burning. Gwilym picked it up and followed Lucy. He contrived to stand on William's hand as he left. William gasped but Gwilym ignored him.

"'Old up, 'ighness. I 'ave to guard your back, remember," Gwilym.

"So you do, Gwilym," she said warmly. "Thank you for what you did back there. We would all be dead if you had not got my hand free."

"I 'ad every confidence in you, 'ighness. We will 'ave to spar again tomorrow when me bruises fade."

The voices faded into the dark leaving William wondering just how much damage he had done.

"Up you come, milady," said the boatswain, as he hauled her through the trapdoor. "What have we here? A mirror? I have never seen one so big."

Gwilym had to climb out on his own, followed by William.

"We had better make the place secure," said William. "Sir Francis has plans for it."

"No, Captain," said Lucy. "Your orders are changed. I want this place burnt to the ground. Fire will cleanse it. I will take responsibility."

"You can't take responsibility, milady. Sir Francis doesn't know you're here." William frowned.

"I am tired of games, Captain. I intend to tell him. Now burn it," Lucy said with finality.

They stood in Billingsgate dock and watched the building blaze. Tudor houses were firetraps and the roof fell in when the wooden framework caught alight. The Swallows contained the fire, stopping it spreading to other buildings. Eventually, only smoking ashes were left.

"Take us back to the Tower, please, Captain. We will all use your barge," Lucy said, her voice carefully neutral.

She sat on a bench staring at the river as they sailed downstream. Gwilym sat behind where he could watch anyone approaching her. William waited for some time before going up to her. "Lady Dennys. I want to apologise for my behaviour back in the tunnel. I was in shock."

"No apology is necessary, Captain. You performed your duties adequately. My uncle will be satisfied." She turned her head back to the river. He had been dismissed. She had treated him the way a lady treats a servant that she doesn't particularly like but who has given no fault. He slunk away. In his heart, he believed her fully justified for her opinion of him.

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Framed