“What did I tell you?” Charles said proudly.

Kirby looked me up and down again, this time with a new scrutiny. “You were Blackthorn’s apprentice.”

“Yes, Master,” I said.

“That explains a lot,” he muttered.

“Well, Master Kirby?” the king said.

“You do understand, sire, he may need to make appearances at my laboratory?”

“He’ll be at your disposal as necessary.”

“And he’ll still have to pass a final exam to become a journeyman.”

Charles smiled. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“No,” Kirby said. “I don’t suppose it will. Very well, sire. I accept.”

Charles nodded his thanks. With a bow to the king, and a final glance in my direction, Kirby left the room.

I was thoroughly confused. I had no idea what that last exchange was about, and the apothecary’s abrupt departure left me wondering what I was supposed to do. I’d assumed I would follow him, but the king hadn’t given me permission to leave.

“Should I go with Master Kirby, sire?” I said.

The king shook his head. “Richard will look after you. Always a delight, boys.”

And so we were dismissed. I was still reeling; it took a jerk of the head from Lord Ashcombe—and an elbow in my side from Tom—to get me moving. The spaniels stayed behind.

“My lord…?” I began as soon as we were in the hall.

Lord Ashcombe raised a hand to silence me. There was a pair of guards by the door, and servants standing farther down the passageway. He wanted to wait until we were alone.

Once the three of us had found an empty corridor, Lord Ashcombe stopped. He spoke in a low voice. “Tomorrow, Kirby will notify the Apothecaries’ Guild that he has taken you as an apprentice. If anyone asks, you will identify him as your master.”

“I thought he was my master,” I said, more confused than ever.

“No. That’s just for show.”

“Then… who is?”

“You are being apprenticed to Alexander Walsingham, 1st Earl Walsingham.”

I didn’t recognize the name. “Is he another of His Majesty’s private apothecaries?”

“No,” Lord Ashcombe said. “He’s the king’s personal spymaster.”

CHAPTER 12

I STARED AT LORD ASHCOMBE, stunned. “You want me to become a spy?”

“Haven’t we had this discussion before? You already are a spy, Christopher. This just makes it official.”

I didn’t know what to say. My whole world was turning upside down. I felt like I’d lost all control of my life.

Then again, maybe control was just an illusion. In Cripplegate, I’d done whatever I was told. With Master Benedict, I’d done that, too. Following orders was, after all, the role of an apprentice. Learn, practice, cook, clean. Run errands. Whatever the master says.

Yet it never felt like that with Master Benedict. I’d loved being an apprentice—his apprentice. He’d taught me and cared for me, and I’d adored the work, even when the days were long. I’d wanted to become an apothecary.

When he was murdered, and I was left on my own, I’d been heartbroken—and I’d also been free. No one around to tell me what to do. I’d have given every ounce of freedom to have him back. But he wasn’t coming back. He lived only in my heart.