“Bring round the carriage,” the man in charge snapped.
Pain shot through her arms as the guards twisted them behind her back and pushed her forward. Her toe caught a rock and she stumbled, sending a fresh sharp stab of agony through her arms. She fought back a wave of nausea at the pain radiating through her limbs.
One of the men pulled a length of rope from the carriage, and for one panicked second she thought they meant to hang her right there in the street. She fought against the hands holding her, but there were too many, and they were much stronger than her. They lashed her hands together behind her back, so tightly that the rough rope instantly chafed the skin on her wrists, creating a new kind of torture.
“I didn’t do anything,” she said to the men around her. They only laughed.
With her hands tied, only one of the Watch was needed to control her now, and he shoved her roughly through the open carriage door. Without the use of her hands, Arista stumbled and fell, landing hard on her shoulder.
More laughter sounded from outside the carriage before it dipped as another man from the Watch stepped inside. A single lantern hung from a hook in one corner, throwing sinister shadows onto his face as he watched her.
Arista pulled her knees as close to her body as she could and lay in a ball on the cold floor. The carriage took off with a lurch, and her head slammed into the hard wood of the seat. Stars danced in her vision. Each time the wheels hit a rut, the carriage rocked and spikes of pain drove into her body.
The guard watched her closely, as if he enjoyed the agony that was inflicted. He most likely did, as the Watch’s reputation was not any better than that of the men Bones employed. It made her even more desperate not to show how much she was hurting.
By the time the carriage rolled to a stop, Arista could taste blood from biting her lip so hard. Tears were burning in her eyes, and her nose was running. She couldn’t stop crying; her body seemed out of her control. The Watch man dragged her upright by her arm, and it was finally too much. Fire exploded in her shoulder.
A frantic sob escaped her lips. He held her there on her knees and grinned. Tiny lights danced in her vision, and she fought the darkness creeping in. Through her life, she had experienced pain, but nothing compared to the raw agony ripping her apart now.
The door opened and the man shoved her out. There was no way to brace herself. The cobblestones raced toward her head—
She refused to scream—
Arms caught her before she hit and dragged her to her feet. A huge stone building loomed up out of the darkness, and even from the street she could hear the shouts and screams coming from inside. Her blood ran cold. Looming above was the massive stone structure every thief in London feared. Most who went in never came out. It was a dark and desperate place.
When she refused to walk, they simply dragged her through the huge iron door at the front of Newgate Prison. A hulking figure stood just inside to meet them. He was easily six feet tall, and had arms as thick as tree trunks. He watched her without a trace of emotion.
“What do we do with this one?” the jailer asked.
“There is to be no trial. Hundred witnesses. She’s to be hanged for murder at dawn.”
The Watch man yanked at the ropes. When they fell away, the blood returned to her fingers, causing prickles of pain each time she moved them. Angry red welts covered her skin where the rope had scraped.
“I’m not a murderer!” she said, but no one listened.
Instead, the jailer looked her up and down and grinned.
“I got just the room for her.”
He pulled a pair of manacles off the wall and snapped them shut around her aching wrists. Thankfully he let her keep her hands in front of her body, with a small length of chain that allowed her to move, albeit in a limited manner.
“Fill out the paper there, listing her crime, and I’ll be back.” His keys jingled as he turned and led her through a maze of dimly-lit hallways.
The groans and screams were so much louder inside, and the stench—God, it was bad. Arista had to fight back the bile that rose to the back of her throat. Fingers reached through the holes in the iron doors they passed. The people inside hissed and growled like animals.
The jailer finally stopped and jammed his key into the lock of a door that looked like all the rest. “Here.” When the door opened, he shoved her inside the dark room and she heard the door slam shut before she could even catch her balance. Arista stood in frozen terror.
She heard movement—scuffling sounds all around her—but could not see what made the noise. There were no lanterns in the room. She moved until the door was at her back, then slowly sank down until she sat, propped up, facing a room full of who-knows-what.