‘I willneverbe your champion.’
‘Now, now, Mira, dear, let’s not talk in absolutes,’ the man to the left says, tutting. That voice, it has to be him. Hewasthe person toasting in the office with Captain Leggan, discussing that law, right before we left Penscalo. They’re all smiling now, as if I’m being chided for a mishap, delighted with themselves. ‘It is an honour to compete in the Trials, an honour to represent Arnhem. You should be proud—’
‘I amnotproud,’ I say, raising my chin. ‘I refuse to represent you.’
‘Such strong words for a little monster …’ the man on the right says with a smirk. ‘Tiberius, shall we?’
Tiberius, in the middle, nods and signals to the guards surrounding me. ‘Bring her in.’
There’s a scuffling at my back, then a stifled shriek and my blood runs cold. I try to turn and see who it is, but the guards force me to stay facing the ruling council on their thrones. The sound of a body forced to its knees and a soft whimper prick my ears. I look to my left.
My heart stops.
Those eyes, smudged with tears. A deep bruise blossoming on her forehead. Her red, wild hair. A slip of fabric secured round her mouth.
Agnes.
I lunge for her, fighting the guards’ grip. I take three steps before I’m tackled to the floor, the marble coming up to meet me, smacking me in the face. I lie there, bellowing, threats and curses curdling on my tongue, eyes on Agnes as she cries quietly, trying to struggle away from her own guards, trying to reach for me.
‘That’s quite enough,’ Tiberius booms, voice shaking the hall.
I whip my head up to meet his gaze, narrowing my eyes, marking him as the man I will kill first. ‘Release her. If you want me as your champion, you’lllet her go.’
‘Why would we do that when it’s so clear how much she means to you?’ the man on the right remarks calmly.
‘Quite right, Otho,’ Tiberius agrees. ‘Allow her to kneel again. Come now, we’re not brutes.’
The guards haul me back up, keeping their hands on my shoulders, and I face the ruling council once more on my knees. Every part of me is aware of Agnes, only a few feet away – a distance that right now seems insurmountable. I cool the fire in my heart, thinking fast. ‘You have no need for her here. It’s me you want to control.’
‘On the contrary, my dear. We need you both very much for the Trials to fall in our favour,’ the man on the left says.
I snap my gaze to the man in the middle as his features quirk into a vicious smile. Out of the three of them, he seems to be the one in charge, the one to whom the others defer. ‘If you resist us, if you plot against us, Mira, if you do anything to erode our victory in the Trials, there will be consequences. For you, and for Agnes.’
He lifts his hand and a shadow lengthens across the room. It comes from his hand, crawling faster and faster, devouring the light in the hall, reaching out—
A scream rips from my throat as it lashes Agnes, and she begins to choke.
I struggle against the guards, desperate to save her, to stop those shadows from clawing down her throat, into her lungs.
She turns towards me, wide eyes brimming with fear, her throat constricting as she begins to thrash wildly.
‘Stop!’ I shout, my voice guttering into a sob. ‘Please! Please stop! Please …’
All at once, the shadow dissolves and Agnes collapses to the floor, panting.
‘You will find that the shadows your friend Elijah Tresillian commands are nothing compared to the ones atourfingertips,’ Tiberius says, his voice cold and cruel and, I suddenly realise … old.
I turn slowly towards him, to the ruling council and really look at them. Their faces are as smooth as stone. Their eyes are cold, as though they’ve never known emotion or love or warmth … as though they are almost eternal. They wield the same magic as Eli. The same shadows curl around their fingertips.
It’s impossible, it can’t be real.
‘How?’ I manage.
‘Elijah’s father was not the first to discover this world.’
A roaring begins in my ears.
‘Consider this a friendly reminder, Mira Boscawen,’ Otho continues. ‘Agnes will remain at court as our guest for the duration of the Trials. And if you are unsuccessful in securing glory for Arnhem, or try something so reckless as an escape …’
