“Take her how is probably the better question,” G said.
“Take Mary. Yes, that’s clever,” Bess said, ignoring G’s concern. “All Edward needs to do is show up to confront Mary. When everyone sees that the rightful King of England is alive, they won’t be able to deny his claim to the throne. But it must be in the proper place, where there can be no question about his identity. And we must not give Mary any time to prepare.”
“Mary will be holed up in the Tower of London, won’t she?” G asked. “In the royal apartments at the top of the White Tower?”
Jane slammed her palm on the table. “Then we break into the Tower.”
“The Tower that . . . also hasn’t been breached, ever?” Edward eyed Jane.
“Right, but we have advantages others haven’t.” Jane counted on her fingers. “One: an intimate knowledge of the layout and inner workings of the Tower of London. Two: a kestrel.”
Everyone looked at Edward. (Even the French commander, though he wasn’t sure why everyone was looking at Edward. In spite of all the hints, he hadn’t figured it out yet.)
“I can’t go in there alone,” Edward protested.
“I’d volunteer,” boasted Archer. “But I can’t fly over the walls.”
(Here, the French commander’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. France was still a country run by Verities, after all.)
Edward glared at Archer. “The problem isn’t the walls. It’s that I’d be naked. And unarmed. I’d have to land and change on the Tower Green, conveniently in the very same place Mary executes people like me, and I’d rather not make it that easy for her.”
(Everyone definitely knew what they were talking about now.)
“It’s fine with me if you want to send the bird in.” Archer smirked at Edward. “But we have these armies, you see. Are they for nothing?”
The Scottish and French commanders looked at each other in a moment of mutual solidarity.
“The armies are useful.” Jane wished the others would all just hurry up and understand. “They will be a diversion. Imagine her panic when Mary looks out and sees several thousand soldiers assembled outside the city. Here.” She touched a spot on the map. “On the opposite side of London from the Tower.” She leaned forward over the table eagerly. “Mary doesn’t even know you’re alive, Edward. As far as she’s aware, I’m the one preparing to attack London. And we’ll let her continue thinking that.”
“Which doesn’t change the problem of a naked bird king standing on the Tower Green,” Archer said. “Do you have a plan to keep him from getting killed before he surprises Mary?”
“Yes.” Jane grinned. “I do.”
Edward had been planning to attack the city at dawn, but with Jane’s new and improved plan, they were going to hold off until night fell, so that it’d be easier to sneak into the Tower unseen. Which would give them the entire day to prepare.
“I’m going to practice,” Jane announced when she and Gifford returned to their tent together to get some much-needed sleep. She hung a cloak from one of the tent poles to act as a curtain, then took off her clothes. Light flared as she changed from girl to ferret to girl again. It was surprising how easy she found the change now that she knew she could do it. Now that she knew what she truly wanted.
“Show-off,” Gifford said from the other side of the cloak curtain. “You’re probably keeping our neighbors awake with that light.”
She just wished G would want it, too. He’d be much more useful in the morning in his human form. And there were so many other reasons that she wanted him to be with her tomorrow.
Jane turned into a ferret and ran up his leg and side until she perched on his shoulder.
Gifford stroked her fur. “Nicely done, my dear. Now can we go to sleep?”
She considered asking him to practice, too. But if he wanted to, he would suggest it. He would try. But since he didn’t offer to try, she became a girl again, dressed, and together they squeezed onto the narrow sleeping pallet.
“This is nice,” G said against her hair, pulling her back against his chest. “Thank you for not making me sleep on the floor.”
“You’re welcome,” she murmured. It was more than nice, she thought as she closed her eyes and tried to quiet her mind. She’d go to bed like this every night, if she could. But this could be their last night together.
It was starting to feel terribly familiar, this feeling that tomorrow they could die.
The sounds of birds singing woke her a few hours later. She stretched her arms and wiggled her toes; she was still a girl.
“Did you sleep?” Gifford’s voice behind her was deep and groggy.
Jane nodded and pulled herself out of their makeshift bed. “Not well, but it was better than nothing.” In truth, she’d tossed and turned for hours. There was much riding on her today.
Gifford sat up and smoothed back his hair. “I didn’t sleep. I kept thinking about you breaking your curse.”