—a lady in a mirror with eyes like his mother; a sword on the ship that spewed black fire; Matthew pressing a strange medallion into his hand; his dead eyes staring as the rain soaked his clothes—
‘I can’t tell you all of it,’ said Justice, lowering his voice. ‘Even to my Order, much is shrouded in mystery. And some tales are too dangerous to tell, even in daylight.’
‘I’ve – seen things. I know Simon isn’t a good person,’ Will said. ‘No one good burns their name onto their men.’
Justice was shaking his head. ‘Did you think the S that he brands into the flesh of his followers stood for “Simon”？ For “servant”， perhaps, or “submission”？ That S is the symbol of something older, a terrible sigil with power over his followers that even they do not fully understand.’
‘A symbol of what?’ said Will.
Justice just looked back at him. He knows, Will thought again. His heart was pounding. That S had felt ancient, evil and rapacious, as if it, even more than the men who bore it, was hunting him. He felt right on the edge of understanding, as if something vast and important lay just outside of his reach.
After a long moment, Justice pulled the chair forward and sat, half-shadowed by the dim light of the shuttered room, his heavy brown cloak settling around him.
‘This is as much as I can tell you,’ he said, and the shadows of the room seemed to gather in close as he spoke.
‘Long ago,’ said Justice, ‘there was a world of wonders – of what you and I might call magic. Great towers and palaces, fragrant gardens and marvellous creatures.’
It was like the words of a familiar story, yet it was one Will had never heard before.
‘In that world, a Dark King rose, growing in power and killing those who stood in his path.’
The light from the room’s only candle flickered, obscuring the planes of Justice’s face.
‘It was a time of terror. The Dark King’s shadow spread out across the lands. Armies broke against his power. Cities fell to his hordes. Heroes gave their lives to hold him back just for a moment. The lights of the world went out one by one, until there was only one light left, the Final Flame. There, those on the side of Light made their last stand.’
Will saw it, an island of light surrounded by a vast expanse of darkness, and over it all rising a great and terrible power wearing a pale crown.
‘They fought,’ said Justice, ‘until the earth was scoured. They fought for their own lives and for all the generations that were to come. And with a single act of great sacrifice, the Dark King was overthrown.’
‘How?’ Will was caught by it, as if he were there, battered by the fighting, tasting the ashes and flame.
‘No one knows,’ said Justice. ‘But his defeat came at a terrible cost. There was nothing left of that world. The survivors were too few, and the world fell to ruin. Years passed, and all that had been was lost to the silence of time, grass growing over the fields where armies once fought, palaces no more than a scattering of stones and the deeds of the dead forgotten.
‘And gradually humanity took up residence, and built cities, and knew nothing of what had come before. For that world is our world, with all its wonders gone, except for fragments, like this stone, which time will take too, until even it is worn away into nothing.’
Justice held up the white chalcedony, which swayed like a slow hypnotist’s watch at the end of its chain.
A remnant, thought Will, of a once-great world.
‘And Simon?’ said Will. He felt half-dazed, like one blinking out of a dream, almost surprised to find himself in an ordinary inn room and not looking out at the vistas of the past.
Justice gazed back at him with dark eyes.
‘Simon is descended from the Dark King, who swore to return and retake his kingdom,’ said Justice. ‘Simon works to bring him forth and restore him to his throne.’
It was as if a chill wind pierced him, turning Will cold.
Simon works to bring him forth …
The words rang in his mind, like his fear of what lay beyond the locked shutters, Simon’s men killing his mother, then hunting him down with that S on their wrists and trying to kill him too.
An ancient world, a Dark King – it ought to have been impossible. But he could feel that presence in its pale crown as if it were right here with them.
As the white chalcedony swung on its chain, Will knew somehow that it was not the only remnant. The Blade on the ship had been another. A terrible weapon unearthed by Simon for a deadly purpose. He shivered at the memory.