Her stomach dropped, like a terrible pit.
‘Don’t get close,’ a voice said to her left. ‘She’s strong.’ She heard a sword unsheathe.
‘Violet—’ said Will, in warning.
They knew.
They knew what she was. A Lion, descendant of Rassalon.
She saw it on all their faces, her worst nightmare come to life. With a flash, Cyprian’s expression made sense. He must have seen her leaving the Hall and reported it to the Stewards. I’ll be watching you. Had he followed her to her house? She could imagine him saying in his superior voice, She’s a Lion. Tom Ballard’s sister.
‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I’m on your side. James will be alone at dawn. You’ll have a chance to capture him.’
Nothing.
‘I’m telling you that I found out how to get to James. You can use him to find Marcus. That’s why I went back. To help you.’
The circle of spears was closing in. She swung around, but there was nowhere to go. Desperately, she searched the hostile expressions, looking for someone to listen. ‘Justice. You know me. Tell them.’
But the familiar face that she knew from hours in the training hall was shuttered and cold.
‘Stay back, Lion,’ Justice said.
Something horrible twisted in her stomach. She looked at the size of the converging force. Two dozen Stewards, half with spears closing in, the others on horseback with crossbows at the ready.
Did they think that she could fight two dozen Stewards? With no weapon?
They did. She could see the spear tips. All pointing at her.
‘She’s telling the truth. If you want to find Marcus, you’ll listen,’ said Will, stepping forward.
All it did was swivel some of the crossbows from her to him.
She said, ‘You don’t have to do this – I’m one of you – I—’
Two more Stewards had dismounted. They were carrying a heavy piece of iron, solid and old, with strange carvings. Manacles, she realised. They were so thick they looked like stocks. Something in her went cold when she saw them. The ground was crumbling under her feet. ‘Listen to me. Listen to me! We only have until dawn—’
‘Take her,’ said Justice.
There was a blur of motion to her left – she heard Will struggling, already in Steward hands. ‘Stop this, she’s telling the truth! She risked her life to find out how to help you—！’
‘Will!’ she cried out as one of the Stewards simply hit Will to stop him talking, a sword pommel to his temple. Will went limp in their arms at once, knocked out.
She panicked, swinging at the Steward who came at her from behind. She wasn’t thinking – sending him flying with her full strength to crash into a line of his compatriots. She dodged one spear, then snapped the next. There was a metallic crunch as she drove her fist into the stomach of a third Steward, hard enough to cave a deep dent into his armour. Hard enough that the Steward felt the punch and doubled over, reeling. Hard enough that it hurt her own fist, the burst of pain distracting her so that she didn’t see the swing to her head—
Blackness burst over her vision. She was forced to the ground, hard. With a wrench, her arms were pulled behind her and the heavy manacles closed over her wrists. Immediately she felt weak, hazy, as if the manacles had robbed her of her strength. They felt solid and immovable in a way she had never experienced, and could almost taste in her mouth. She was still saying ‘Listen to me, James is going to be there at dawn, you need to get there before him—’ as her head was shoved downward, her cheek pressed to the wet, peaty earth.
Had she survived her family only to be killed by the Stewards? Justice was standing over her, his sword drawn. Her heart tightened at the thought that he was going to execute her, right here in the muddy dirt.
Nothing happened. Everyone was still, and staring. An eerie silence hung over the empty marshland. Will was a motionless shape on the ground, and strewn around Violet were the bodies of at least nine fallen Stewards, some injured, others unconscious.
Of the dozen who remained, she saw Leda wipe a thin line of blood from her mouth, and behind her, Cyprian held his sword in a white-knuckled hand, eyes fixed on her. She could hear the words that the Stewards were saying in horror and disgust. Unnatural and Lion and old world and Rassalon.
‘That’s enough.’ Justice cut the talk off, stepping forward. ‘Take them both to the cells.’
As soon as Violet descended the stairs, she felt sick. If the manacles had weakened her, the cells left her nauseous and barely able to stand, as if the prison were in her head.