She rose, still speaking, and Will stood with her, thinking of the drifting Steward chants that he heard each morning. He knew they were significant, but had not understood their purpose before now.
‘The chants have been handed down to us across generations,’ said the Elder Steward. ‘They have shifted and changed over the centuries, but they were once used by those with magic in the old world, and I believe they will still have some power. Come.’
She moved to the other side of the table and picked up the candle. Then, as if weakened, she swayed, and the candle dropped from her hand. Will rushed to pick it up, then stepped in to support her. She leaned on him gratefully.
But for a moment, he had the strangest impression that the candle hadn’t dropped from her hand; it had instead dropped through it. He shook his head to clear it.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Just tired,’ she said with a smile, her hand on his arm solid and warm. ‘One of the effects of getting old.’
‘Will!’ called Emery, waving him and Violet over to his table in the dining hall.
Novitiates began their morning chants at dawn, and the first bell rang an hour before that. They ended their training at sunset. Downstairs in the dining hall, rows of novitiates sat at long tables, set for an evening meal. Sitting with Violet in the chairs Emery had gestured for them to take, Will found himself famished, as though his exercises with the Elder Steward had worked up a great appetite.
Violet tore open a warm piece of bread, while Will helped himself to a generous portion of hot potage, thick with barley and leeks. The first spoonful was warm, comforting and heartening, and he had soon eaten it down to the bowl, never having eaten better.
Several of the novitiates at surrounding tables gave Emery strange looks at his friendliness to the outsiders. Emery didn’t seem to care and had shifted so that Will and Violet could sit with him, alongside Beatrix and Carver.
‘You’re dressed differently,’ said Will. Emery and his friends were not wearing their usual novitiate tunics, but were instead dressed in the kind of garments that were worn under armour.
‘We’re going outside the gate,’ said Emery. ‘With the Stewards, on patrol. Tonight.’
He said it as if it was uncommon. ‘Novitiates don’t go outside the walls often?’ said Will.
‘No, hardly ever. That is – the best go, sometimes.’ Like Carver, thought Will. Or Cyprian, who had been riding outside when Will had met him. ‘But for us, it’s an escalation of our training. We’re going to ride along the marsh to the Lea, then north as far as the coppices on the Flats.’
It was funny to hear Emery talk about the River Lea as if he was describing a mission to an exotic location. Will supposed that to novitiates who had lived most or all their lives inside the Hall, the outside world must seem a strange place. He tried and failed to imagine Emery or his friends on the streets of London.
‘Do you know why they’re sending you out now?’
Emery shook his head, but then leaned forward to speak almost secretively. ‘Everyone’s saying the Stewards are preparing for something big,’ he said. ‘They want the novitiates to be ready … as ready as we can be. It’s why Carver’s test was moved forward.’
‘You said it yourself,’ said Beatrix. ‘Simon is on the rise. The Reborn has come into his power. And—’
‘And?’ said Will.
‘And you’re here,’ said Beatrix.
Will flushed, feeling the eyes of everyone on him. He knew what the Stewards thought … that he was Blood of the Lady. They thought he could kill the Dark King. But when he thought about what he was supposed to do, all Will could remember was the dead Tree, and the unmoving candle flame.
‘It’s like the alliance of old,’ said Emery. ‘All of us fighting together.’
Will’s stomach turned. I can’t, he thought. I can’t be what you need. He didn’t want to say that, with all of them looking at him.
He felt Violet’s shoulder leaning slightly into his, and was grateful for the silent gesture of support. He drew a steadying breath.
‘When is your test?’ Violet asked Carver.
‘In six days.’
‘And it’s early?’
‘I’m nineteen. Novitiates usually test a year later. Unless their blood is very strong.’
Carver’s quiet, serious manner was different from the strong certainty of Beatrix and the shy, naive friendliness of Emery. The three of them were a tight-knit group, and he seemed like the steadfast presence that kept them together.