Black Powder by Ally Sherrick Page B

snorted. ‘I think that unlikely. As I said before, she is no friend of mine. No.’ He tapped the side of his sharp, beaked nose. ‘Another course of action is required.’
    Tom’s stomach twisted inside him. So the man was going to kill him after all. He closed his eyes and steeled himself for the blow.
    Laughter echoed around him. A hand slapped him hard across the back. He flicked his eyes open.
    â€˜You misjudge me, Master Spy. I’m not going to run you through. Rather tie you up awhile. And don’t worry. That old rascal Grimwold will find you eventually, though you must pray he beats the rats. Now’ – he pulled the torch up from the ground and got to his feet – ‘I have wasted enough time blathering. London is at least two days’ hard journeying and I have an urgent appointment to keep there.’
    London! A bolt of excitement shot through Tom. If he could get the smuggler to take him with him, he could seek out his uncle and beg him to save Father himself. But could he trust him? He glanced at the man’s smoke-stained hands and scarred face. His stomach knotted again. He knew what Mother would say.
    The smuggler pulled a length of rope from his belt.
    Quick, Tom. Decide!
    â€˜Wait!’ Heart thrumming, he grabbed his bundle and jumped to his feet.
    â€˜What is it?’
    â€˜The other night, you said . . . you said if we ever met again, I might repay you for the favour of setting me on the right road to Cowdray.’
    The smuggler nodded slowly as if remembering. ‘You are right, Master Spy. I did.’ He shot him a glance. ‘So what did you have in mind?’
    â€˜If you take me with you, I’ll . . . I’ll keep watch, fetch firewood, find water, look after your horse, get supplies for you and the other smugglers.’
    â€˜Smugglers, eh?’ A smile curled across the man’s lips. He gestured at his bundle. ‘What’s in your pack anyway?’
    Tom held it close. ‘Clothes and some things from home.’
    The smuggler frowned. ‘Planning on making a journey, were you?’
    He shrugged.
    The smuggler tugged on his beard and sighed. ‘The business with your father troubles me. And it would seem the mistress of this place has been less than kind to you. I do notlike injustice. Besides’ – he raised the torch and looked him up and down – ‘you may be of use to me after all.’
    Hope sparked inside Tom. ‘Do you really mean it, sir?’
    The smuggler tilted his head to one side, then gave a quick nod. ‘I will take you with me to London and in return you will work your passage as you have promised.’
    â€˜Yes, sir!’
    â€˜And if you prove yourself a worthy travelling companion, I’ll do what I can to assist you in this business with your father.’
    His heart jolted. ‘You mean . . . help get him free?’
    â€˜I can make no promises.’ The smuggler threw him a mysterious look. ‘But, God willing, there might be a way . . .’
    Tom’s jaw dropped. This was even better than he’d hoped for. A wave of happiness surged through him. At last something good had happened. ‘Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!’
    The smuggler nodded and handed him back his knife. ‘No need for “sir”.’
    â€˜What shall I call you then?’
    The man ran a finger over his ring and gave a crooked smile. ‘The Falcon.’
    â€˜The Falcon?’
    The man’s eyes took on a distant look. ‘’Tis the bird on my family’s crest, and a reminder to me of happier times.’
    Tom frowned. A smuggler grand enough to have a family crest?
    â€˜Is there a problem?’
    He shook his head. ‘N-no . . .’
    â€˜Good. Now, time we were going.’ The smuggler turned and ducked out into the main tunnel.
    Tom held back for a moment. It wasn’t too late to change his mind. If