Aye, and on to others.

«I still fail to comprehend thy plan.»

That’s because I do not have one, other than that I will not die tonight, but live, and thwart Richard Balneo another day.

зAnd if he has remade our God into the image he pleases–»

Mehiel,Kit reminded, my power may be chained and my magic shorn from me, but I am a bard, a poet, and a warlock too. And there’d a half‑completed Bible in Tom Walsingham’s study that says that my God has as much claim on the world as the God of Richard Balneo and… Lucifer.

«Prometheus, thou meanest.»

Aye.Kit steadied himself against the wall and stretched over a step too crumbled to be safe. “Watch your step, Richard.”

«Hast thou the power to do this thing?» Wonder on the angel’s voice, those golden eyes shuttered by dark lashes.

You never know until you try.Kit swallowed dryness, and tried to hush his thoughts so the angel would not overhear his fear. The force of will to defy Richard Baines, and wrest his own greatest sorcery away from him? I can’t even best the man in a verbal jousting match. What think I that I can take control of a sorcery in which I am only the catalyst, the sacrifice?

«Sir Poet,» the angel reminded gently, «thou art the man did tell the Prince of Darkness where to take his blandishments.»

From the way his shadow stretched before him in the fluttering light, Kit could see that they were coming to the bottom of the stair. A low tunnel vaulted with Roman arches stretched away before them.

Aye,Kit answered. But Lucifer Morningstar doesn’t frighten me like Richard Baines.

Now entertain conjecture of a time

When creeping murmur and the poring dark

Fills the wide vessel of the universe.

From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,

The hum of either army stilly sounds,

That the fix ‘d sentinels almost receive

The secret whispers of each other’s watch:…

–William Shakespeare, Henry V,Act IV, chorus

The Earl of Salisbury limped up the stairs with a half‑dozen men‑at‑arms at his back. “Your Highness, ” he said, raising his chin to look over Will’s shoulder. “Master Shakespeare–”

“Stand aside, my lord,” was Will’s answer as he continued his descent. His cane clacked staccato on the steps as he stumped downward.

Salisbury did not move. “I will not have thee risk thyself in this, ” he said. “Thy King needs thee to shape what will follow, Will. There’s nothing thou canst do to help Marlowe now. They will have already begun.”

Will stopped, one step above Salisbury and leaning forward. He wanted to close his eyes at the declaration, remembering the heat of a crimson iron close enough to curl his lashes. The hand that did not hold his cane tightened on a bit of silk in his pocket, and something pricked him. The enchanted nail Kit had given him, and Will drew strength from it.

He could have glanced over his shoulder, but he knew what he would see: three big men standing shoulder to shoulder, Murchaud with his blade catching lanternlight, the others half crouched and ardent for whatever might come. Tom cleared his throat but held his tongue, granting Will precedence this once.

“Then have your men run me through, Mr. Secretary,” Will replied. He drew himself up, balancing against the wall so he could lift his cane off of the step, and looked down at Salisbury from his greater height and the advantage of the stairs. “Because if I am alive, I am going down these stairs, and I am going in the service of England.”

The man Elizabeth had called her Elf never glanced down. His eyes sparkled in the lanternlight as he rubbed a gloved forefinger against his thumb, and visibly came to a decision. “The treason is safely under control,” Salisbury argued, his soldiers shifting impatiently behind him. “Fawkes will be arrested tomorrow, Catesby as soon as suits us. They’ll give evidence that I can use to bring Baines under control once and for all, and their networks with them. The Baron Monteagle has been most forthcoming–”

Will almost dropped his cane. “That’s what this has been about,” he said, and shook his head. “You still think you can rule the Prometheans. Rulethem?”

“Every man can be ruled,” Salisbury said, provoking a dry laugh from Ben. One of the men‑at‑arms started forward; Salisbury halted him with a flick of fingers so slight that only Will’s training as a player let him see it. “Baines is too useful to waste.”

Will swallowed dryness. The trick with the pewter coins. Of course. Blackmail, plain and simple: Salisbury never intended to see Baines hang.

Merely to let him know that he could see him hang, if he so chose.“If every one could be ruled,” Will said softly, “Lucifer the Prince of God’s angels need never have fallen into darkness, my lord Salisbury.”

“We have the conspiracy dead to rights.” Such hubris, such arrogant certainty. “The realm’s ire will rise against the Catholics and in defense of the King. James will move from upstart crow to beloved monarch, and the royal family will regain public sympathy. Baines will perform his Black Mass in front of my witness, and I shall own him. And England will be strong and united again in the mind of her people.”

“In front of your witness?” Not Kit, surely. He would not permit himself to be so used–

“Robert Poley, ” Salisbury said with a satisfied smile, “works for me.”

Will set his cane back down on the step and leaned on it, dumbstruck. His mouth opened, and closed again; he felt as breathless in air as the fish he was certain he resembled.

Tom caught Will’s elbow in passing, and shouldered Salisbury aside. Murchaud and Ben fell in behind, and Will was never certain whether it was something in their eyes or Salisbury’s stunned failure to issue a command that kept them all alive.

“Sir Thomas!”

Tom’s auburn head swiveled on his long neck, fixing Salisbury with a glare. “Perhaps you should look to your own nest, cousin. That seems to me a cuckoo’s egg you are roosting there,” he commented. A pause, a dismissive, calculating glance. “Sir Francis thought the same thing, once.”

The Earl just stood with his arms akimbo like wings, watching them squeeze past. Will patted Salisbury’s black‑robed shoulder as he went by. “The Faerie will be here at dawn,” he said helpfully. “Expecting a skirmish with the Prometheans. Perhaps it would be well for you to decide which side you wish to be on when they come, my lord. Incidentally–”

“Master Shakespeare!”

Will narrowed his eyes and offered Salisbury his coldest, most stageworthy stare. “–I will not fail to see that the King learns of your hesitance to interfere with this autumn’s treason at your earliest convenience, despite having all the knowledge in your hands. If you should choose a side other than the one I find myself allied upon.”

See, see where Christ’s blood streams in the firmament!

One drop would save my soul–half a drop! ah, my Christ!–

Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!

Yet will I call on him: O, spare me, Lucifer!–

Where is it now? ‘Tis gone; and see where God

Stretcheth out his arm, and bends his ireful brows!–

Mountains and hills, come, come and fall on me,

And hide me from the heavy wrath of God!

–Christopher Marlowe, Faustus,Act V,scene ii

Kit hesitated in the half‑crumbled archway, the torches failing to illuminate the darkness beyond. “There’s a step down,” Baines said behind him. “Have a care among the rubble.”

“Perhaps if I had a light – ”

“Perhaps if you had a weapon, puss?” Baines came up beside him, a hulking form, breathing softly. He smelled of soap and wine and rosewater and lightly of fresh sweat. “You wouldn’t club me with a torch and make your escape, would you?”