She shrieks once more when I cut a lock from her hair. I still want my token.

There are voices outside the jakes. Men’s voices, in alarum. I open the door. The linkboy and three guards are coming across the grass from the tent. The linkboy points at me, and a guard raises his lantern. When the light hits the guard in front, I see it’s not a guard at all. It’s Black Fingers.

I race out and around the jakes. Up against its wooden back, I go over my choices. The field is wide and open, a poor place to hide. To one side is the field kitchen and the small tent for plating up food. To the other is the actors’ costume tent. I peek around the corner. They’ve nearly reached me. I squeeze my hands together for luck and dash out across the grass towards the costume tent.

Black Fingers’s voice booms across the night. ‘Turn her going!’ I can hear the thumping of the guards’ boots on the earth behind me. My own corked shoes wobble beneath my feet. I daren’t stop. If they catch me, I will not escape this time. I think of a sword slicing down between my head and my shoulder and run harder. With a sudden jolt, my ankle rolls out to the side. I keen in pain but keep going, hobble-running towards the tent. I hear heavy, male breath steps away. Just a few more paces. With a last burst, I push into the tent, just before the guards reach me.

29. MUSTARD SEED

IT’S DARK INSIDE, but I make out the shadows of the trunks and costume racks. I also take in two folk, one helping the other to dress or undress – I don’t know which – by a lantern on the floor, papered over to keep the light low. The only other exit is the flap leading into the main tent. I step behind one of the racks hung with coats and robes, disappearing into the velvets and brocades just as a rush of air behind me signals the guard’s arrival. With care, I sink to the ground. I can see the actors’ feet on one side of the tent and the guard’s feet – no, two sets of guards’ feet – near the entrance. Then another set comes in. Black Fingers.

‘Where’s the girl?’ he bellows.

‘There’s a play on now!’ one of the actors whispers. ‘Just on the other side of that canvas.’ A flute song and sweet singing come from inside the main tent, as if in proof.

‘This is the Queen’s business,’ answers Black Fingers, only a bit quieter. ‘A girl came in here. And you will help me find her.’

His voice is enough threat that the actor answers quick and tight, ‘The only place is with the costumes.’