Midnight Never Come by Marie Brennan

Author:Marie Brennan [Brennan, Marie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Fiction > Fantasy
ISBN: 9780316020299
Publisher: New York : Orbit, 2008.
Published: 2008-06-08T22:00:00+00:00

MORTLAKE AND LONDON: April 25, 1590

A man might not be thought strange if he took an early supper before riding the eight miles back to London, nor if he spoke cheerfully of his purpose in coming to Mortlake. Deven's observations on his way in were true; though some in the village were suspicious of Dee's conjurations, casual chatter over his food revealed that the astrologer often served as a mediator in local problems, settling disputes and offering advice.

Deven was not sure what to think.

The delay meant a late start back to London, though, and full dark came well before he reached the Southwark end of London Bridge. The bankside town offered many inns, but without a manservant it would be irritating, and Deven was in no mood to stop yet; his mind was too full of thoughts. Though the great bell at Bow had long since rung curfew, he bought his way through the Great Gate House that guarded the bridge, trading on his coin and his status as a gentleman and a Gentleman Pensioner.

Dee could not have murdered Walsingham by black magic. Deven simply did not believe it. But did that mean that Walsingham had died of purely natural causes, as Beale insisted, or merely that Deven had pinned his suspicions on the wrong man? The astrologer might still be the hidden player, without being a murderer. Was he working with Anne, or not? And if so, how much stock -- if any -- should Deven put in the man's predictions?

He thought he was keeping at least marginally alert for movement around him. Cloak Lane was deserted, empty of others who like him were braving the curfew, but there might be footpads; alone, without a manservant, Deven had no intention of being taken by surprise.

Yet he was, when a figure stumbled abruptly out of the blackness of a narrow alley.

The bay horse reared, as surprised as his rider, and Deven fought to control the beast with one hand while reaching for his sword with the other. Steel leapt free, his gelding's hooves thudded into the unpaved street, and he raised his blade in readiness to strike --

-- then the figure lifted its face, and Deven recognized her.

"Anne."

She shied back from him, hands raised as if to defend herself. The sword was still in his hand. Deven scanned Cloak Lane quickly, but saw no one else.

Dee had spoken of enemies and conflict.

He had said that death would send Anne into his path again.

She was backed against the shuttered wall of a shop, like an animal brought to bay. The sight slipped under his defenses, sparking sympathy against his will. Deven compromised; he dismounted, so as not to loom over her, but kept the sword out, relaxed at his side. "Anne. 'Tis me -- Michael Deven. Is someone chasing you? Are you in trouble?"

She had changed, since last he saw her; the bones of her face stood higher, as if she had lost weight, and her hair looked paler than ever.

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