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“They were here. I’m sure they were here?”

I peered over his shoulder, into the basket. There were dozens of tapestries inside, depicting various trees, all with words beautifully woven into them, but none looked like the Duke. “The Duke’s tapestries,” said Bartholemew. “They’re missing!”

We paused at a shaded pond at the foot of the old monastery, where the ruins had tumbled down the hill. Havelock restlessly paced the masonry—using protruding chunks like stepping stones across the water. I rested among the roots of an enormous willow, which themselves clutched at the tumbled stones, and there I admired the dragonflies darting to and fro about me. There were leaves floating in the water in every shade of autumn, and Havelock crouched, trailing the tips of his fingers among them.

The willow was full of words.

SOFT SEEP

RESTFUL DEPTHS

Havelock selected a piece of stone and turned it over in his hands thoughtfully before throwing it into the pond. It splashed and sank, leaving only ripples in its wake. “Do you remember our caper on the Mississippi?” he asked.

Three years ago, we had taken a slow steamer boat down the Mississippi River while on holiday. During the second night, a murder had taken place on board, and Havelock had been called to investigate. A storm struck not long after, and in a flash of lightning I caught sight of someone pushing Havelock overboard. Without hesitation, I grabbed a length of rope and dived in after him. “I thought I had lost you,” I told him.

Havelock’s eyes were distant. “It felt as if I was in the dark for years. I could not determine which way was up, and I could feel my heat seeping into the waters. There was the distant booming of thunder, and that was all.” He turned to me. “Then, I felt your hand take mine. I knew it was your hand, even though I could not see you.”

I stood and examined the forest around us for anyone nearby, but we were quite clearly alone. I felt confident that we could talk candidly. So satisfied, I went to him.

He looked up at me. “I don’t tell you enough how precious you are to me, Sebastian. I know that we have been distant of late. The truth is that our last case left me feeling as if I was back there, in the depths of the Mississippi, without light or direction. I keep…” He trailed off. “I keep waiting for you to take my hand.”

This, then, was the unspoken thing between us. The thing he had tried to tell me in London, two days ago. I was glad that he finally felt able to say it aloud.

I took both of his hands in mine. “I had no idea.”

“I know that you must feel similarly.”

“I am shaken,” I admitted, and it felt good to say. “We have borne witness to things that no man should ever see. But without you, there would have been no justice. The work you do is important. And I will always be here, ready to dive in after you.”

He pulled my face down to meet his and kissed me. I kissed him back.

“I hope that we can regain what our last case took from us,” he said, afterwards.

“This place,” I said. “It is a balm.”

Havelock went to the edge of the pond, and took a deep breath. “It is a gentle place. I can feel my thoughts calming here.”

I went to join him. “Perhaps working this case will help us forget our last.”

“Perhaps.” Havelock smiled. “We still have much to do.”

“What are your thoughts?”

“Oh.” Havelock sighed wistfully. “I think we have heard enough from the people of Farleigh, for now. By my reckoning, the solution to this case is somewhere in the forest. We must listen to the trees.” There was a suggestive rustling, as a breeze tumbled loose leaves from their branches. “I believe that we will find some answers in Windermere, as well.”

In my notebook, I had written down what little the Ambassador could recall of the Duke’s words. I took it out now, and presented it to Havelock. “What do you make of these?”

“Fragments,” he said. “Beautiful, dark fragments. Soon, I hope, we will find out what they mean. I think that the Duke’s testimony may be very important.”

Together, we studied the Duke’s words again.

… A WITHERING SHADE …

… SUFFOCATION ABOVE BINDING BELOW …

… OUR FINAL BLOOM …

“I don’t know about you,” I said, “but to me, these phrases sound like a warning. It sounds as if the Duke was afraid of something.”