“Didn’t you get my letters?” I said.

“What letters?”

I glanced over at Tom. “I sent you two while we were on the coast. One from Southampton, the other from Brighton, weeks ago.”

“I received neither.” Simon winced as he twisted, and Sally laid a hand on his shoulder for him to lie still. “That’s why I’m in England. I sent you letters of my own, but never heard back. I was worried. So I decided to come and check on you.

“When I arrived, three weeks ago, I inquired at Whitehall, and was told you were off south with Ashcombe, though they wouldn’t tell me why. I’d have gone to meet you, but they said you were already on your way back.”

That had been the plan. We were supposed to have returned to Whitehall when the king did, in February, but another terrible storm kept us holed up in Brighton, irritating Lord Ashcombe to no end. “How did you know we’d arrived yesterday?”

“I was sent word the marquess had returned to the palace. I went there, but was told you hadn’t come with him. I assumed you’d gone home. I’d just turned onto your street when I was attacked.”

“By whom?” Sally said.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see them. I just stumbled, and felt a sharp pain in my back, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I thought I was about to faint.”

“You were in shock,” I said.

“Was that what it was? All I could think was: get to Blackthorn. Master Benedict will help. Stupid, isn’t it? It’s not like I didn’t know he was gone.”

I didn’t think it was stupid. How many times had I called out, when I’d needed him?

“So you didn’t see anybody?” Sally said. “Did the attacker say anything?”

“Ashcombe asked me the same question.” Simon hesitated. “I told him no.”

“That wasn’t true?” I said.

“Well…”

“What was it?” Sally said.

“I must have I imagined it,” Simon said, sounding embarrassed. “Or dreamed it, afterward, under the poppy. Because it doesn’t make sense.

“I could have sworn I heard someone whisper, just before I was stabbed. They said… ‘For the convent.’ ”

Tom’s eyes went wide. “You were attacked by nuns?”

Simon made a face. “You see why I didn’t want to mention it.”

“You must have misheard them,” Sally said.

“No doubt. But I don’t know what else they could have said.”

“Can you think of anyone who’d want to kill you?”

“Not in London,” Simon said. “Not even in Paris, really, although you never know with those worms. But seriously, all my time in England, I lived in Nottinghamshire, not here. No one has any reason to murder me.”

“The Raven does,” I said slowly. “But you said he’s dead.”

“He is.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, the Raven was Rémi, wasn’t he?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Then he’s definitely dead,” Simon said, “because I saw Rémi’s corpse.”

CHAPTER 21

MY CHEST WAS TIGHT. “HOW did you find him?”