‘What was he like?’ said Emery. ‘Did he talk to you? How did you get away?’
‘Emery,’ said Carver, curbing the younger boy’s questions. Then, to Will: ‘I hope these questions do not plague you. We do not spend much time with outsiders. And the Reborn to us is a figure of legend.’
Carver was the oldest of the three novitiates, perhaps nineteen years old, with dark hair and the serious voice of one who did not talk much. Though he was taller than the others too, by almost a head, he had a quiet look.
‘It’s all right,’ said Will. Then, to Emery: ‘James was on the docks. I distracted him just long enough that we could get away. Justice told us to run, and he was right. Even with a head start we almost didn’t escape. But it wasn’t James who chased us; it was three men with pale faces and sunken eyes, each wearing a piece of black armour.’
‘The Remnants,’ said Emery, wide-eyed.
‘Then it’s true. Simon really is on the rise.’ Beatrix’s voice had the trace of a Yorkshire accent. Will knew that many novitiates were born outside the Hall, but it was still strange to think of them being Called from anywhere as ordinary as Leeds. ‘It’s why they moved up the date of your test.’ She said it to Carver.
‘There might be many reasons for that,’ Carver said.
‘Test?’ said Will.
‘To become a Steward,’ said Emery. ‘He’s going to pass his test and take his whites and sit with the Stewards at the high table.’
‘That is not certain,’ said Carver. It was his turn to flush. ‘The test is difficult and many fail. And there is no shame in becoming a janissary.’
‘And you? Will you be training with us?’ Beatrix’s attention was on Will.
‘No, I’m—’ Will hadn’t let himself think about the days ahead that had been planned for him, and it became real only as he said it. ‘I’m training with the Elder Steward.’
He saw the eyes of the novitiates widen. Training in magic. The unspoken words hung in the air. The way the novitiates reacted made him realise that magic was something out of myth to them too. They’d had the same look in their eyes when he’d talked about James.
The idea of training made him nervous, at the same time that he felt drawn to it, glimmering with promise. It took on a greater weight when he saw how the novitiates reacted to it, as if he was about to embark on something beyond their understanding.
‘I’ve never heard of the Elder Steward taking a student,’ said Beatrix.
‘Not even Justice,’ said Emery.
‘You have been given a great honour.’ Carver broke the spell of reverence with a nod of acknowledgement. ‘Stewards and janissaries alike seek the council of the Elder Steward. She has knowledge that no others possess, and if she is training you, it is for a purpose. She is the wisest and most powerful Steward in the Hall.’
Justice had said that too. Will remembered the way the Elder Steward had looked at him the night he had come to the Hall, as if she was seeing right into his heart. He wanted to make sure he never let her down.
‘Any advice?’ said Will.
‘Don’t be late,’ said Beatrix, as a frowning trainer called out to them with a sharp word, and the three novitiates went hurrying off to their own lessons.
‘To train someone in magic … that has never been done here before.’ The Elder Steward’s eyes were serious. ‘Not by a Steward. Not by anyone since the last of the old cities fell and magic went out of the world.’
Will came into the Tree Chamber, the dead branches of the Tree like cracks, making him shiver. He looked over at the Elder Steward, a figure of snowy white beside the black Tree, holding a single candle.
‘Stewards do magic,’ Will said. The Stewards on the marsh had driven the Remnants back with an invisible shield. He remembered the black hounds fleeing before it, remembered the pale faces of the Remnants cowering back.
But the Elder Steward shook her head. ‘Stewards use artefacts from the old world. We have no magic of our own.’
‘I saw Stewards conjure a light.’ His memory of the white light on the marsh was vivid. ‘On the marsh. A shield of light to drive back the Remnants—’ It had been bright and fierce, and it had seemed to envelop and protect the Stewards, pushing the creatures chasing him back.
‘Stewards who patrol outside the gate carry stones with them,’ said the Elder Steward. ‘We call them ward stones, but in truth they are pieces of the Hall’s outer wall, which has its own power to repel invaders.’