The Blackthorn Key

I dived, skidding across the stone to slam into the back of the well, putting it between me and Wat. The jug hit the ground.

It exploded. The glass shattered with an earsplitting bang, sounding like the biggest cannon in the world. The fearsome pressure from the mixture of vinegar and natron blew shards so far, they plinked off windows on the third floor, pitting the courtyard brick like a thousand Saracen arrows.

Chips of glass, flecked with pink foam, rained down beside me, where I lay protected from the blast behind the cover of the well. I stuck my head over the rim to see what had happened.

Wat writhed on the ground, still gripping his knife, the blade scratching against the stone. His right side, from boots to hair, was plastered with red. I didn’t know if it was vinegar or blood. I didn’t stay to find out. I sprinted past him, flung open the door to the Hall, and fled into the street. After what I’d just done to the place, I knew I’d never get to return.





CHAPTER


26


I RAN, LUNGS BURNING ALL the way. It seemed like the whole of London stared as I sprinted past, stinking of smoke and vinegar, coughing to hack up a lung. Still I ran, on the edge of panic, only one thought in my mind.

Blackthorn.

Home.

It didn’t matter that the shop wasn’t mine anymore. I didn’t know where else to go. Even if it hadn’t been Sunday, Isaac’s place was too close to Apothecaries’ Hall for me to go there now. Plus, I didn’t know how much I could trust the man. And I wasn’t welcome at Tom’s.

I gave myself an excuse to go home again: ingredients. I’d used up two more of the vials in Master Benedict’s sash in my escape. Without those, and the ingredients in the lab, Wat would, at this very moment, be slitting me open like a Sunday pig.

That wasn’t my only excuse. Tom’s place was on the way home from the Guild Hall. Maybe he’d be outside, and I could see him for a moment without his family around. He’d got in trouble because of me. I wanted to see him, say I was sorry. Say goodbye.

I had to be careful. I shuddered to think of what Tom’s father would do if he saw me. I’d have to be even more cautious about going home again. There was a good chance the shop was being watched. Wat and the others might be back at the Hall, but Stubb wasn’t. And if I’d learned one thing today, it was that anyone, anywhere, could be part of the Cult.

In the chaos, I’d forgotten that Lord Ashcombe was looking for me, too. I didn’t forget for long.

? ? ?

By the time I’d neared Tom’s place, I was so out of breath, I could barely walk. My back, protesting all the way, spasmed with every step. Just a few more streets to go, I told myself, and then I could rest. I was concentrating so hard on staying on my feet that I nearly ran into the lion’s den.

Tom was outside his house, but he wasn’t alone. Lord Ashcombe was there, too.

I nearly tripped on the cobbles. I stumbled to the safety of the doorway of a nearby jeweler and pressed my back against the wood, panting heavily, lungs on fire.

Lord Ashcombe wasn’t saying anything. Tom, on the other hand, was babbling. I was too far away to hear a word of it, but he looked terrified. Lord Ashcombe stared at him, black eyes piercing.

Keeping my head down, I crept into a nearby alley between the jeweler’s workshop and the ironmonger next door. Under better cover, I peeked my head out again. Lord Ashcombe was still listening as Tom ran his mouth. One of the King’s Men stepped from Tom’s home, carrying something. He gave it to Lord Ashcombe. The King’s Warden held it out wordlessly to my friend.

I caught the glint of sunlight off silvery metal. Lord Ashcombe was holding my puzzle cube.