The way Artemis drew back her lip met the technical requirements of a smile, but there was nothing friendly or reassuring about it. She didn't say anything; she'd let Much have the pleasure of telling the Sheriff just how little had had left to stand on.
She had been into the dungeon where the Sheriff had imprisoned Marian and her boys, an evil little place, built for cruelty. It was yet another thing she intended to make him answer for. There was no crime Artemis despised more than the theft of another person's freedom.