Mark Chadbourn - The Silver Skull

A cold anger seethed beneath the surface, demanding retribution, and answers. Nothing was going to stand in his way.

They left the carriage near Cowgate, where the noblemen, ambassadors, and rich clergy made their homes, and slipped quietly to the address Walsingham had given them, a three-hundred-year-old three-story house of solid stone with a fine oaken door and an iron knocker. Will gave the coded rap, and after a moment they were admitted by a man carrying a candle. He was in his early fifties, almost six foot six, thin and elegant, with a hooked nose and swept-back white hair.

"Alexander Reidheid?" Will said.

"Master Swyfte!" Reidheid shook his hand furiously. "It is an honoursuch an honour!-to have the great hero of England in my home!"

Nathaniel sighed loudly.

"Lord Walsingham speaks highly of you," Will said. "He claims you know the comings and goings of every man in Edinburgh, and that your understanding of the subtle moods of this city is beyond peer."

"He flatters me." Reidheid's cheeks flushed, but he was pleased with the compliment.

Primping her hair, a woman of around twenty-five entered shyly. She was pretty, with delicate, upper-class features, brown hair in ringlets, and green eyes that flashed when she saw the guests.

"My daughter, Meg," Reidheid said. She curtsied as her father introduced Will and Nathaniel. Will noticed Nathaniel about to register his tart weariness at another woman fawning over England's great hero when Meg's eyes skittered quickly across Will and settled on Nathaniel himself. Nathaniel was clearly taken aback by the attention and did not know how to respond.

"Perhaps Meg could show Nathaniel our quarters while we discuss more important matters," Will said. "And I would be grateful if your servant could also make arrangements to collect the body of our driver who met with misfortune on the way here. Nat will provide directions."

Shuffling with baffled discomfort at this new predicament, Nathaniel followed Meg to the rear of the house while Reidheid led Will into the drawing room where a fire roared in the grate.

"I apologise if you find the temperature unpleasant," he said. "Increasingly, I struggle to get warm. It appears to be an affliction that affects all our kind sooner or later, as though those damnable things suck the life and warmth from us."

"And you would have more experience of them here in Scotland than we south of the border." Will took a seat next to the fire, while Reidheid poured two crystal glasses of amber whisky.

"They torment the countryside as they have always done, haunting the glens and the lochs, and they move freely through our city. But here they have chosen to play a quiet game in recent years. They can pass for mortals, if they so choose, and they slip between the cracks of everyday life, causing mischief and misery in subtle ways and only intermittently."

"Their attention has been elsewhere," Will said, "on the search for a key to a great weapon, which had been hidden in the city. Now they hunt for the final thing they need to complete their plan."

Reidheid handed Will the glass. "Uisge beatha, in the native tongue. The Water of Life. It keeps me warm when there is no fire in the grate." He pulled his chair close to the hearth. "The poor and rich alike have long learned to protect their homes with salt and herbs and cold iron, and to watch where they walk after dark has fallen."

"You have seen new activity from them in recent days?"

"They call them the Unseelie Court here. It is an old name, coloured by centuries of torment." He sipped his whisky reflectively. "There is a place in Edinburgh not far from the castle that is known as the Fairy House. The local people understand it to be haunted, or cursed. It is said that anyone who ven tures within never comes out. No one is ever seen inside, although the lights blaze intermittently. The downstairs rooms are said to be guarded by a demonic black dog."

"They have a house they call their own within the city?" Will ruminated. "And no one has raided it?"

"We have an uneasy relationship with the Unseelie Court in Edinburgh." There was a rueful note in Reidheid's voice. "A black carriage stood outside two days ago. No one was seen leaving it, or entering the house, and it left shortly after."

"No one would ever be seen. I need to explore the inside of this Fairy House."

Reidheid started. "I have watched that foul place for many days and nights. I can see no safe way in."

"Then it will have to be unsafe."

Nathaniel and Meg entered with a platter of cold beef, bread, and cheese and some ale. They were both quiet and respectful, but Will saw them exchange warm glances as they laid out the food on the table.

"I would also have access to the Palace of Holyroodhouse," Will said as he sliced the beef.

"An audience with the king will not be an easy thing to arrange-" Reidheid began.

"I do not want an audience. I want to prowl around his private rooms, poke my nose in his closets, go through his clothes, sift his jewels, rap on his walls, prise up his floorboards, and generally skulk around and make a nuisance of myself."

"It is the most heavily guarded residence in all of Edinburgh," Reidheid protested.

"Then I have two impenetrable buildings to penetrate."

"And you do like to penetrate the impenetrable," Nathaniel whispered to him.

"Father?" Meg began. "The king has a ball tomorrow night."

Reidheid considered this for a moment, then said, "Perhaps I could garner you an invitation. A visiting luminary. I am sure James will think you might brighten up the festivities and perhaps provide a welcome talking point for the members of the court who find these events overly familiar. Would that serve your purpose?"

"A palace swarming with people in which to lose myself?" Will nodded. "Perfect."

"And wine, and women," Nathaniel muttered.

Will loaded his plate and poured some ale from the pitcher before settling back by the fire. "Then let us make haste, for there is little of the night left."

"You intend to visit the Fairy House this night?" Reidheid asked incredulously. "You have not slept. Surely after some rest-"

"I have fire in my blood," Will replied, "and an urge to make the Enemy pay for the wrongs they have inflicted upon my friends. Sleep can wait."

CHAPTER 21

rom the pitch of the roof, Will looked out across Edinburgh's jumbled mass sprawling around the winding, ancient ways, the grand stone houses glimmering with candlelight, the soaring backdrop of the great hills beyond. The wind tearing at his hair brought with it the salty aroma of the port at Leith two miles distant.

He stood atop one of the highest lands in the city, after picking his way past crowded apartments to bribe his way through the window of the topmost lodger. Balancing on the ledge with the dizzying drop to the cobbles far below, he briefly wondered if he was as mad as the lodger accused him of being, before hauling himself up and over the edge onto the slick tiles.

"I wish you could see this, Nathaniel," he said. "The world looks less harsh from on high."

Steadying himself on the balls of his feet, Will loped along the pitch of the roof. Progress was hazardous. The gusting air currents channelling through the wynds threatened to pluck him down the steep slope to the vertiginous drop at the end. Occasionally the wind direction changed and he was blinded by choking smoke from the rows of chimneys.

Whenever he came to one of the wynds that broke up the run of housing, he leapt the narrow gap, constantly aware of the black gulf beneath his feet. His landings were always a scramble for purchase, one wrong foot or twisted ankle a death warrant, but he kept up a relentless progress towards his destination.