بخش 38

CHAPTER 74

THE RAVENS’ CRIES

PETER AND TINK, having soared high over the guard at the gate, descended cautiously into the Tower complex. They found themselves on a cobblestone street, lit—barely—by smoky torches stuck at intervals into the high stone walls on either side.

“Molly?” Peter called softly, as his feet touched the ground.

“Here,” said a voice behind him, so close that he jumped in surprise, drawing a mocking chime from Tinker Bell.

“This way,” said Molly, setting off up the shadowy street, Peter and Tink following. In a few yards they came to an opening on the right, with stone steps leading down to an archway and an iron gate. Beyond the gate they could make out the stone wharf alongside the black waters of the Thames.

“That’s Traitor’s Gate,” said Molly. “It was used to bring prisoners into the Tower. And this”—she pointed to a stone structure rising into the night sky on their left—“is the Bloody Tower.”

“Why’s it called that?” said Peter.

“Two boys were murdered there one night,” said Molly. “One smothered, one stabbed.”

“Why?” said Peter.

“They were in line for the throne,” said Molly. “Not always a safe place to be. Some say their ghosts still roam these grounds. Come on.”

She set off again. Peter, after another glance at the Bloody Tower, followed. They had gone only a few steps when…

CAW! CAW! CAW!

Molly shrieked and jumped back into Peter. The two of them clung together, frozen by the harsh, inhuman sound coming from the darkness just ahead and to the left.

CAW! CAW! CAW!

Tink emitted a peal of laughter.

It’s a bird, you ninnies.

“What did she say?” whispered Molly, still clinging to Peter’s arm.

“She says it’s a bird,” said Peter.

“Oh,” said Molly, sounding embarrassed as she quickly let go of Peter. “The ravens.”

“Ravens?” said Peter.

“They live here,” said Molly. “It’s a tradition. The legend is that, if the ravens ever leave the Tower, disaster would befall England.”

Now Peter saw them amid the shadows—a half dozen large, black, sleek birds.

They want to know if we have meat, said Tink.

“Meat?” said Peter.

They eat meat, said Tink.

“They eat meat?” said Peter.

“I’ve heard that,” said Molly. “The Warders feed them.”

CAW! CAW!

And biscuits soaked in blood, said Tink.

“Tell them we don’t have any,” said Peter.

“Any what?” said Molly.

“Biscuits soaked in blood,” said Peter.

“Well, of course we don’t,” said Molly.

Tink landed amid the ravens, who gathered around her glowing form. There was a brief conversation conducted in bells and caws. Tink returned to Peter and, pointing to a break in the wall to their left, said: The White Tower is up that way.

“The ravens say the White Tower is up that way,” Peter told Molly.

“I know that,” said Molly, setting off through the opening in the wall.

Of course, mocked Tink. She knows everything.

They walked up a sloping green, and in a few minutes were standing at the base of the massive central White Tower, its ninety-foot walls disappearing from view as they rose into the night fog. The exterior was dark, save for a torch to the right illuminating the base of a steep stone staircase. Molly and Peter went to it and, after a glance up at the forbidding structure looming over them, began climbing the steps.

The scuffing of their feet prevented them from hearing the sound, faint in the distance behind them, of the ravens cawing again, more agitated than before. Tink heard it, but—not wanting to leave Peter—chose to ignore the ravens’ cries.

The cause of those cries was now gliding along the wharf outside the Tower, looking for a way to get in. CHAPTER 75

TRAITOR’S GATE

GUIDED BY THE pale light of two lanterns, the men trotted to keep up with the dark shape of Ombra as he moved swiftly along the river. To their left stood the Tower Bridge, only one of its two great towers visible, the other hidden in the distance by the dense fog swirling over the Thames. To the right rose the massive stone wall surrounding the Tower of London.

Ombra stopped before an opening in the wall, leading to a gate blocked by another wood-framed gate with iron bars. Beyond the gate, stone steps rose to a street inside the Tower.

“Traitor’s Gate,” Slank said to Nerezza. “It’s how high-class prisoners was brought in. Princess Elizabeth herself was brought through here when Bloody Mary put her in the Tower.”

The dark hood turned his way, and Slank instantly regretted having spoken.

“Spare us the history lesson,” groaned Ombra. “Captain Nerezza, take the men to the Tower entrance, but keep out of sight of the guard. Mister Slank, you are to engage the guard in conversation. When you see me approach, raise a lantern.”

Slank and Nerezza nodded, then led the men away along the fortress wall, toward the Tower entrance. When Slank glanced back at Traitor’s Gate, Ombra had disappeared.

Beneath the gate’s bottom timber, warped from weather and weight, a shapeless pool of dark oozed forward like a windblown puddle. Once clear of the gate, it swirled upward, gaining height and a capelike form, the arms extending outward, then the hood upward, covering whatever dark entity existed within.

The caw caw of the ravens stopped. The birds themselves, normally restless, held perfectly still.

Ombra slithered soundlessly, swiftly up the Traitor’s Gate steps, turning left when he reached the street. Keeping close to the wall, he followed the street to the tower that Molly had passed through—and Peter had flown over—a few minutes earlier.

Standing under the tower archway, his back to Ombra, was a guard. Ombra hung back against the wall, waiting, invisible in the darkness.

In a few minutes the guard shifted as he heard boot steps approaching along the causeway. Then Slank came into view, lantern in hand.

“Tower’s closed,” the guard said.

“I know, I know,” said Slank, slurring his words as if drunk. “I apologize for troubling you, sir, but I seem to be lost.” He kept coming toward the guard.

“Wherever you’re going,” said the guard, putting both hands on his staff, “it’s not here.”

“No, no, no, of course not,” said Slank, coming still closer. “I was hoping you could give me directions.”

At that moment the guard felt a sudden intense chill behind him. Before he could turn to investigate, Slank raised the lantern. The guard’s shadow appeared on the cobblestones behind him. It was motionless for a moment, then it began bending and stretching as it was sucked to the dark form of Ombra, who plucked it into the air and stuffed it into the burlap sack. Now the guard stood motionless, shadowless, his face drained of all expression.

“Summon the others,” Ombra said to Slank.

Slank turned and waved his lantern. In a moment Nerezza appeared on the causeway, followed by the rest of the men. When they arrived, Ombra said, “The boy and the girl have gone to the White Tower. This way.”

He turned, flowing through the archway. The men followed, each giving a wide berth to the tower guard, who stood unmoving, still holding his staff, staring ahead at nothing.