‘If you mean that darkness is a test, you’re right. How we face it. How we fight it,’ Justice said. ‘How we keep to the light.’
She nodded, and made to push away and leave, when his voice called her back. ‘Violet.’
She turned.
‘I was wrong to doubt you,’ said Justice. ‘You’ve never faltered, even when the Stewards cast you out. I know that I’ve betrayed your trust.’ Justice’s brown eyes were serious. ‘But I’d be honoured to fight beside you, Steward and Lion.’
She swallowed the emotion in her throat. ‘Don’t Stewards fight with a shieldmate? What happens with Marcus gone?’
‘While Marcus is missing, I can’t form a new shield bond.’ The words were an admission. ‘I don’t have anyone to watch for me.’
She thought about what it meant to fight – as a Lion or a Steward, or any person trying to find a path through the dark. ‘Maybe we can watch for each other.’
‘A full-frontal attack.’
Leda spoke as captain to the small group of twelve that had returned to the great hall. Violet stood at the foot of the dais steps. The High Janissary and the Elder Steward stood beside her, and with them were Justice, Farah and a handful of Stewards and janissaries who manned the armouries and led the patrols. Will had returned quietly, slipping into place beside Violet.
Violet found herself looking up at the four empty thrones, an eerie symbol of what they were fighting against. The four kings had ruled over the ancient world before the Dark King had turned them into shadows. Now Simon threatened to make a shadow that could destroy the new world. If they couldn’t rescue Marcus …
‘The grounds of Simon’s estate at Ruthern will be dangerous,’ said Leda. ‘We’ve made assaults on Simon’s strongholds in the past. Justice lost eleven Stewards fighting to free Will from Simon’s ship. But it wasn’t the sailors and cutthroats who killed Stewards, it was—’ She broke off.
‘Simon’s Lion,’ Violet finished for her. Tom. Her mouth went dry. Tom would be there. Tom would fight – would kill Stewards like he had on the ship – or be killed. An almost overpowering desire to warn him seized her, and she had to force herself to speak. ‘I’ll distract him,’ she made herself say. ‘He won’t attack me.’
‘It’s true, we have a Lion of our own,’ said the High Janissary speculatively.
‘I’ll stop him from killing Stewards,’ said Violet. She didn’t know how; she only knew that she had to. She saw a few of the others exchange glances, nervous, sceptical.
Will knocked his knee against hers, an oddly reassuring gesture. Her eyes flew to his and he gave her a small nod. You can do it. The others didn’t seem to notice – neither his quiet reassurance nor her own spike of nerves. She drew in a breath and nodded back at him.
‘Simon’s deadliest fighter isn’t the Lion, it’s the Betrayer,’ said Leda. ‘James may be our prisoner, but that doesn’t mean this will be a fight without magic.’
She felt Will’s shoulders stiffen.
He still hadn’t learned to unlock his own magic, she knew. Even against James he had tried and failed to use it. He never talked about it, but she had seen him devote hours and hours to practice, poring over ancient books, searching for new methods, losing himself in chants and meditations, all to no avail.
We have a magic user of our own as well. She could almost hear the unspoken words. They hung in the silence, but no one said them aloud because they knew that Will had shown no sign of his power.
It was Will who confronted the topic head on.
‘I know I can’t use magic,’ said Will. ‘But I want to help you fight.’
Justice shook his head. ‘You’re too important to risk. If the plan goes wrong – we can’t lose you to Simon. Your role will come later. We need you safe in the Hall.’
Will flushed but said nothing.
‘What can we expect at Ruthern?’ said Jannick.
Violet looked back at Leda, who addressed them all in her captain’s cloak. The Stewards were strong, an unnatural strength granted to them by the Cup, but they had no easy way to fight against magic.
‘First, the branded men,’ said Leda. ‘We do not yet know the extent of the power the brand grants them. There are rumours that a branded man can become Simon’s eyes, that Simon can feel what they feel, see what they see.’
‘—but Tom has a brand,’ said Violet, and then wanted to bite out her own tongue as the Stewards all turned to look at her. Did Simon look out of Tom’s eyes, inhabit his body? She instinctively clasped her own wrist, remembering her own desire for a brand, not that long ago. The thought that Tom had given his body over to be inhabited by Simon made her skin crawl.