‘So what if you are?’
James looked primed for a trick. He hadn’t taken the Collar, or even reached out for it, though his whole body was taut, as though at any moment he might snatch at it, or simply bolt.
‘The Stewards found out what you were,’ said Will. ‘You fled. You were a child. You had nowhere to turn. I think you went to Simon because he was the only person who could protect you. He took you in, he raised you knowing what you would grow into. Maybe he told you that you’d be at his side in the new order, and maybe you believed him. But at some point you learned about the Collar.’
James stared back at him. Will could feel the words had shocked him on some core level, touching some part of him unused to being seen.
‘You learned he was looking for it. You learned he wanted you in it. The man you trusted wanted to enslave you. But you couldn’t leave him. You needed to find it before he did, and staying close to him gave you the best access, the best information, the best chance of success. So you did his bidding. Simon’s Prize. You let him keep you like a pet. And when you learned that Gauthier was in England, you came here alone.’
There was a silence in the empty room, as James held himself very still, as if even the act of breathing would give something away. It seemed as if James wasn’t going to speak. And then:
‘It was his father,’ said James. ‘It was Simon’s father who raised me, more than he did.’
‘How old were you when you joined him?’
‘Eleven,’ said James.
‘And when you learned about the Collar?’
‘A year later.’
Will lifted the Collar, proffering it again.
‘I’m not a Steward,’ said Will. ‘I keep my promises. I’m loyal to my friends. I told you.’
Enlarged pupils had turned James’s eyes very dark. The wariness in James was now a long, searching look, seeking something beyond a trick or a trap.
‘What’s to stop me taking the Collar and killing you right now?’ James said.
‘Nothing.’
‘And Simon? I thought you couldn’t stop him without me.’
Will felt his lips curl, a brittle new feeling pushing inside him. ‘Don’t underestimate me.’
‘I’m not going to help you fight him.’
‘I know that.’
Still, James didn’t take the Collar. He just looked at Will with that strange, searching look.
‘I don’t understand you.’
‘I know that too.’
Slowly, James extended his hand. He didn’t take the Collar right away; he hesitated before touching it, fingers hovering over it, and at the last second he avoided grasping it bare-handed. He took hold of it where Will held it, the wrapped section. His fingers brushing Will’s felt cool. The moment Will released the Collar, it was as if a spell was broken. James wrapped the Collar swiftly back up in the blanket, tucking it under his arm, and seeing it disappear helped too. James made as if to leave.
And stopped, looking back at Will. Will could see another question forming on his lips.
But instead of asking it, James shook his head and left in silence by the rickety door, with only that single searching look back at him.
Violet was perched on the edge of the splintered table, but she leaped up at his arrival. Equally tense, Cyprian was standing next to Gauthier, sword in hand. Their body language was edgy with expectation, shot through with shame. Both of them looked with nervy tension at Will, and then past him to the hallway. When they didn’t see James, the tension grew urgent. Cyprian stepped forward.
‘Did you do it? Is it on him?’ Cyprian flushed after he said it.
Violet had taken two steps down the empty hallway, looking for any sign of James. ‘Have you sent him after Simon already?’
‘I let him go.’
They both swung towards him, staring. A shocked moment of silence. Cyprian’s tunic was a little bloodied from the injury he’d taken when he hit the wall, during James’s capture. He changed colour, patches of red appearing on his cheeks.
‘You what?’
‘I let him go.’
The room was strewn over with the signs of their earlier fight. The furniture was smashed, the ceiling half smashed through, rubble scattering the floor and fine dust from the plaster drifting through the air in the dim streaks of light.
‘And the Collar?’
Will said, ‘It was his. I gave it back to him.’
Into the thunderous silence that followed, Gauthier gave a low, painful moan. ‘Gone – it’s gone – he gave it away—’