“It’s a trap,” Tom insisted. “ ‘Come alone’? If this is really from the Templars, why would they ask you who the enemy is? They already know the enemy.”

“I think it’s a test,” I said. “Did I learn anything from what they gave me? Am I worthy to continue?”

“It even smells like a trap.”

He wasn’t wrong. And yet… “They went to all this trouble,” I said, “helped us save the king, for what? To set a trap for me? They could have done that ages ago.”

“It’s still not smart,” Sally said. “Please, Christopher.”

I wished I could make them understand. It wasn’t like I wanted to go alone. I didn’t want to go at all. But if I hadn’t followed the trail yesterday, the king—and many, many more people at the party—would have died.

“How about this?” I said. “Sally tells Lords Walsingham and Ashcombe what’s happened. Tom goes with me to Saint Paul’s, but I go into the church alone. I’ll have my pistols; I’ll keep my back to the wall. If anyone attacks me, I’ll fire a shot to tell you to come in.”

Tom began to protest that wasn’t good enough, but I cut him off.

“I have to go, Tom,” I said. “You know I do. His Majesty gave me to the spymaster. It’s my job.” Even if I’d never asked for it.

And with this, Tom quieted. He knew: We were apprentices. Our entire lives belonged to someone else. That sad look returned, the one I’d seen yesterday, after he’d been with Lord Ashcombe.

It’s hard to say no to a king.

What on earth did they want him to do? I’d never found the right time to ask. And now I was wondering if it was too late.

But in the end, he agreed.

What choice did we have?

It was just an ordinary night.

That’s what I kept telling myself as we rode in silence to Saint Paul’s. People were out as usual, fewer than in full daylight, but enough to know the city was still alive.

I’d left Bridget with Sally, who’d shut the bird in my room before running off in search of Walsingham and Ashcombe. No doubt they were deep in preparations to leave. When we collected Blossom and Lightning from the stables, we saw the king’s horses being hooked up to his carriage, everything getting ready to move His Majesty to Hampton Court. Whatever the Templars had to tell me, if it was a warning about the king, I hoped it would come quick.

We approached Saint Paul’s through Ludgate, from the west. As agreed, Tom waited in the street. I handed him Blossom’s reins and patted her neck. She nuzzled me, and my stomach tumbled. Something about that felt like a goodbye.

You’re being ridiculous, I told myself. But that didn’t quiet the fluttering in my gut.

The cathedral was lit now by candles. People mulled about in Paul’s Walk, fewer than yesterday, but not by much. I skirted the crowd, scanning the faces as I passed. As promised, I kept my back to the wall, hands on the grips of my pistols.