Before I had time for that statement to settle in, a figure darted through the bushes nearby and came straight for us. A boy in blue livery bowed hurriedly to Thomas, and panted "sir, they're coming." Thomas' eyes grew wide, he said "thank you" to his page, and the boy tore out of the garden. Thomas turned back to me, pale as the moon shining down on us. "You have to come with me, it is not safe here anymore," he explained rapidly. "Why?" He looked around the garden again, took my arm, and we took off at a fast walk through the garden towards the gates.

As we neared the stables he explained, "when I first arrived here the first name I thought of was Seymour, and as our favor increases with the king, the Boleyns' goes down and Anne has her men after me." The page boy brought around Thomas' hunter already saddled. Thomas handed the boy a few coins and turned back to me.

His face lost what was left of its color, I whipped around to see dust flying as horses raced towards the stable yard. Within the space of a few seconds, Thomas threw me onto his horse, swung himself up, and we were galloping through the woods. Branches whipped against my legs, and my arms ached as I clung to Thomas to stay on the fast moving horse. The woods became denser as we went, and the sounds of the men chasing us faded.

After what seemed like forever, Thomas brought his horse to a stop and hopped down. Then he turned and gently lifted me down and held me close, his heart hammering against my cheek. "I'm sorry for all of this," he breathed. I pulled back and took in the color that was returning to his face.

"Thomas, it's okay, but we've got to figure a way out of this place." Determination crossed his face, and he reached for his saddlebags. He pulled out a map of London and a book covering mythology and witchcraft. "I thought that perhaps we could locate someone who may understand our situation without skepticism, but I haven't been able to slip away to find help," he explained.

"I may know just the person for the job," I said, relief flooding my body. After another hour or so of rest for his horse, Thomas swung us back into the saddle and we wound our way to London through the forest.

By dawn, we reached the hut where I had first met the witch woman. "She must know something about what we're doing here if she was so willing to help me," I explained as we dismounted and knocked on her door. We waited. No answer came after several knocks, so I cautiously pressed against the rotted wood, the door swung open eerily.

I looked back at Thomas, his face was strained with trying to see into the dark of the entryway. We walked slowly through the hut looking into the side rooms for signs of life. Nothing stirred. "You're sure this is the same place?" Thomas asked, a quiver of uncertainty in his voice. "Yes, I don't think I could forget this place," I replied more confidently than I really felt.

Once we made it to the back of the house, I peered into the cushioned room, only there was nothing there. "She must have picked up and left," I said, fear beginning to take hold of my voice. "Maybe she left something behind?" Thomas inquired as he searched the dirt floor with his boot. I crossed the hall and saw a corner of parchment sticking up next to the wall. Hurriedly I dug with my fingernails to get the parchment free.

Brushing the dirt off, I struggled to make out the words in the dim light, "when runs the tears of blood, thy curse will be undone, but choose wisely for in choosing wrong, more innocent lives may be spared, but which one?" was printed in scratchy uneven handwriting on the parchment.

"What is it?" Thomas asked as he moved to read the paper over my shoulder. "Do you think she means that we're only stuck here for a set amount of time?" I asked. "I've been here for at least 5 months," Thomas replied, "that seems like a long time to wait, don't you think?" "Maybe the tears of blood have not yet been shed?" I asked. Thomas blanched, and my stomach flipped. "Anne," we both said in a whisper.

"That's exactly who you will be answering to when we get back to the castle," a gruff voice said from the darkness. Thomas reached for his sword and the two men met each other in the confined space with the grace of a dance. Rough hands reached from the dark behind me and began dragging me out the back door.

"Thomas!" I screamed, kicking at my captor, but my legs got caught in my skirts, and he laughed at my struggle. Thomas turned at just the wrong moment, and the other man flicked his sword from his hands and put his blade to Thomas' throat. "You're coming with us whether you want to or not," he said with a smirk, and we were led into the night.