The battle for her very freedom had no right to be so boring. Karen rocked in her seat, stifling a yawn as the prosecutor continued to drone through his opening statement. Dixon was the hunter here, a lithe man in a well tailored suit with a neat ginger beard, but she couldn’t see him as a threat. He just loved the sound of his own dry voice, even after listing out her charges- assaulting civilians, assaulting an officer, assaulting an official, disrupting the peace, theft, trespassing, and poaching.
Nevermind that there wasn’t even a Jury for him to address. Hugh had said since she was a minor, she was simply on the mercy of Judge Graves. Beyond him, there were some sleepy bailiffs in uniform, a secretary typing beneath the miner and angel crest of Idaho, and some public in the galleries. Karen’s ears twitched as she twisted to glance back, and meet her Pa’s eyes, sitting two rows behind her. Beyond him were some curious onlookers, journalists with notebooks, and she spied the grizzled figure of Agent Kirk lurking in the far back row.
“Thankyou, Prosecutor Dixon.” Judge Graves had a deep baritone voice, and his dark, wrinkled scalp caught the light as he looked over. “Counsul Carpenter, do you have an opening statement for the defence?”
“A shorter one, your honour.” Hugh bounced to his feet and strode to the middle of the clear area, his dark blue suit neat and smile contagious as ever. “Now, to lay it plainly, we are here to examine the actions of Miss Karen Thomson, over the several hours of the twenty sixth and twenty seventh of November, in their context and order.”
“So, a vital piece of context which Mr Dixon slipped past slightly, was his terming of Miss Thomson as a ‘Gryphon’. That’s both over -simplified, and poor pronunciation. I’ve known Karen here, for over a decade, and she’s all born and bred human. Some exposure to magic has recently left Miss Thomson as… part griffin? Were-griffin? You got a preference, Karen?”
“Uh, half?” Karen blinked as she opened her flask of Veil.
“Very well, half Griffin. We’ll get to that more later, it’s quite a tale.” Hugh chuckled, “That said, it’s been a stressful time being cursed like this, and while her actions may not have been saintly, I’m certain by the end of this, you’ll see that she is the true victim here. Thankyou.”
He shuffled back, as the Judge peered through frameless glasses, and nodded, “Thankyou, Counsel. Miss Thomson, a word please?”
Karen finished a gulp from the flask and quickly stood, stumbling slightly. “Uh, yes sir?”
“Your honour.” Hugh reminded her as he sat down, adjusting his glasses.
“Yes, your honour?”
“I am given to understand that you revert to the form of a griffin normally. May I ask what you were drinking there, and why you came to court as… a satyr?”
“It’s complicated.” She breathed, slipped her hands behind her back, and tried to look as innocent as possible. She’d worn a neat dark skirt, pastel blouse and blue blazer, her coppery hair tied back in a long loose braid, enough that Hugh had called her adorable. That was his grand plan; play the role of a cute innocent cursed girl, as if she had no control over her life.
“We’re here to handle complexity, Miss Thomson.” said Judge Graves.
“Okay, well I didn’t want to come like this- I wanted to be human- but the amulet I need for that is locked in evidence, and my veil form’s too big for nicer outfits. But this ridiculous faun form is close enough to wear it- aside from shoes- but I washed my hooves.” She explained, screwing the lid tight. “And I gotta drink potion every two hours or I turn back to a griffin which… uh, can’t talk so… not good?”
The Judge pursed his lips, eyes sceptical, “Very well. Miss Thomson, do you understand why you are here today?”
“To… decide if I’ve broken laws, and hooow to punish me for stuff?” She fought to keep her voice sweet and soft. Like Maddie. Noone could accuse Maddie of crimes.
“Correct. You may sit.” Judge Graves ordered, “Now, Counsel Carpenter, you intended to explain matters?”
To her horror, both lawyers then joined in passing out copies of the OAR file documenting her change, to examine in great detail. Dixon focussed on the strange and dark circumstances of her change, attack on Logan, panic and the sheep. Karen crossed her arms, ears twitching as Hugh did no better, reading out a list of traits OAR apparently diagnosed her with- distractible, claustrophobic, domineering, paranoid, instinctive, intimidating, aggressive, affectionate, unpredictable…
Each sounded worse than the last, scraps of her personality aired out in front of any random nosy biped. Half she disagreed with- why would she scent mark people? Butting them was just a nice harmless gesture. Why was eye contact bad?! Karen cringed, twirling hair between her fingers as they moved onto safety procedures and advice- her carnivorous diet, the span of her wings, room sizes, and in case of emergency she had a-
“I’ve got a tracker?!” Karen snarled, snapping to attention, blinking at the ginger lawyer.
“Order!” Judge Graves warned, “Do you have something to add, Miss Thomson?”
Realisation struck like lightning. That’s how she’d been tracked down, despite her hunt being so perfectly silent. OAR had bugged her.
“Yeah- why do I have a tracker?! Where is it!? What is it!?” She was aware of Hugh adjusting his glasses, the signal to play meek. But her anger burned hot and sharp, “How long’ve I had it?”
Dixon took a step back, flicking through papers, “Since custody- well, it’s all here in your papers. Was your file unavailable to you, Miss?”
“No, my Pa was given it…” Karen blinked as her stomach dropped, blazing rage finding a clear target. She stumbled over her hooves, grabbed the bannister to scream across the gallery, “PA?! YOU KNEW!? WHY DIDN’T YOU-”
“Order in court!” Graves’ thunderous voice snapped. Bailiffs moved in her peripheral vision, sudden and quick.
“Steady, Karen, behave.” Hugh was on her first, a hand around her shoulders, keeping her close. “Ah, Judge Graves, mind if we take a quick recess? This feels like a private family matter, not one for the whole state, eh?”
Her father’s gaze was downcast, jaw clenched, shoulders tight. Guilty.
“Acknowledged. We reconvene in half an hour.”
* * * * *
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me!?”
Her voice echoed, sharp and clear, down the corridor alongside her clopping stomps.
“I lost you once, kiddo.” Pa sat in a chair before her tirade, looking at his callused hands, “I don’t wanna lose you again.”
“So just stick a secret tracker on me!? In me!?” Karen snarled, tears running down her cheeks, “Is it magic?! Tech? Where is it?!”
“You don’t need to know that, Karen.”
“Why the hell not!? It’s my body! It’s my LIFE!” She grabbed his shoulders, unsurprised to find her vision flickering into a blurred ultraviolet as she met his eyes. “Pa, where!? Why not tell me!?”
“Because you’re like to try and claw yourself open to tear it out!” He growled, “You need to think! People are scared of mystics- Logan was in hospital when they first found you. Remove it, and you’d end up back here- or worse.”
“They’d have to catch me first.” She broke first, turning to stomp shakily away, shivering with rage.
“Listen to yourself.” Pa warned, levering himself to stand, “You want to run away for real!? Why? What for?!”
“To fly- to be free! I… I don’t know, to get away from all this bullshit!”
He watched her pace, giving a long low sigh as her tail snaked out beneath her skirt, dark tuft of fur brushing off the floor. “Karen. No. Of all the days to throw a tantrum, this could be your worst. You understand what you’re under threat of?”
“I need it to fucking balance on these ridiculous hooves!” Karen spat back, “And timing? You’re one to talk! After all those lectures on communicatin’, on talkin’, and you never even told me I’m bugged, you fucking hypocrite!”
A flash of anger, rare and fearsome, crossed her sire’s face. Then he stepped forward, slowly and methodically, looming like a mountain. “That’s true. It was pathetic of me. I should’ve sat you down, spelled it out. But you’ve barely listened- I know you’re keepin’ secrets from me! From your Mom!”
“From a woman who’s scared of me… no, no, that’s not even it.” She wiped her eyes, tail lashing, “She hates me now, doesn’t she? Cos of Gramma?”
“She doesn’t understand. Because you don’t explain yourself. What’s so vital that you can’t share!?”
“Secrets I promised to keep! Who did you promise to keep the tracker secret for?”
“You’re not forgettin’ this any time soon.” Pa sighed, looking sadly at her, “Alright. Let’s breathe. We can pick this up another day- and no, no, I’m not tellin’ you where it is. If you scratch it out, OAR will cart you off.”
Karen pursed her lips, stalked over, and slumped against the wall, tail coiled over her fuzzy knees. “I hate this.”
“Then don’t act wild.”
“Be a good little girl.” She scoffed, “Do I still look innocent enough?”
“The tail and eyes need to go.”
“Why? They’re more honest than the rest of this face!”
Pa shook his head, came near and hunkered down, “Yeah, and you’re about one question away from turnin’ into a griffin in the courtroom and scarin’ them somethin’ fierce.”
Don’t show weakness.
Karen swallowed, wiped her eyes, and shoved away his hand as he ruffled her hair. Hugh’s plan was the opposite.
Do show weakness.
* * * * *
There wasn’t a chair in the witness stand. Karen idly considered that it was called ‘stand’ afterall, brushed some coppery hair from her vision, and leaned on the counter.
“There she is,” Dixon stood near, at an oblique angle, “Thankyou, Miss Thomson, now first of all, I’d like to go through the chronological events of that night, the twenty sixth, before we move ont-”
“Didn’t you read my testimony?” Karen tutted, “I told the police all this. They had a recorder and everything.”
“Do not disrespect the court, Miss Thomson.” Judge Grave rumbled.
“Ah, just ignorance, I’m sure. It’s a lot for a young mystic to take it, between all the moving parts, the people, and her own memories.” The red bearded lawyer clasped his hands, as if praying, “Now, I did listen through your testimony, but we’ll revisit it to see if you recall any other details, any differences, and to examine some particulars. For example, how was school that day?”
“Fine.” Didn’t quite cut it. Hugh watched her close over Dixon’s shoulders, prompting her to exaggerate, to mention the stress of the noisy corridors, the stupid weaknesses no one needed to know. They lingered a little on the movie night, confirming that the boy she’d attacked was a friend now, though even that definition of attack felt excessive.
“And so, what caused you to fly off? Do you remember the time?”
“Yeah, we’d been… talking about family shi- stuff. About my gramma.” Karen tried to match what she’d said to Hugh, to Pa, “How… she doesn’t know about me. My curse. I’m not sure she knows we exist, most of the time. Then, I noticed the Bad Egg was listening, and thought it was going to targ-”
“I’m sorry, the bad egg? Is that a… gadget? An app?” Dixon frowned.
“No?” She scoffed “It’s a mystic. Uh, it’s called the Siren, or X-19?”
The man looked from her to the Judge then to Hugh. “I’m not familiar- can you tell me about this… Egg?”
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Karen obliged uneasily, the hair on her neck standing on end. Something was wrong. Why didn’t they react to her ghostly encounter? Hugh seemed to enjoy it, she spied a couple of subtle thumbs ups below his papers, but the others, and even members of the gallery just looked at her with the same disgusting look of pity she’d seen before. It turned her stomach, even if it was a success. She was meant to seem like a cursed victim, right?
“I see, so your actions were operating under the belief that this entity was threatening your family? In what manner?”
“I… I wasn’t sure. Curses. Think it cursed me.” Karen frowned at him, “Wait- you believe me, right?”
The lawyer looked at her, oddly. His green eyes aimed over her shoulder perhaps. “I think that you believed there was a threat. S-”
“So I’m… what, paranoid?” Karen shot, “Or lying? Or… seeing shi- stuff? I’m not. It’s real. Ask Kirk- he’s at the back, he knows. He’s meant to be hunting it down!”
“Miss Thomson, for the moment, you are the one providing testimony. We’ll ask other witnesses and experts afterwards..” Dixon reassured, in that clinical well practised manner. “He’s hunting it, hm? What about you, do you think about hunting a lot?”
“Sometimes.” She blinked, “Uh, I don’t go after stuff though.Got shot before, so I know not to poach without a licence.”
“But you go after pigeons?”
“After the Bad Egg. It uses them. It’s evil.”
“What would you hunt if you had a licence? Got a favourite?”
The question tempted her, “Hmm, deer? Boar, bears, wolves, I’m not… I mean… the griffin instincts don’t really care. Big animals, I guess.”
“What about a horse? Do you like them?”
“Yeah, I like ‘em too,” She breathed before she could think. No. What did bipeds think of horses? What would Maddie say? “They’re cool animals. They were the fastest way to travel for… uh, I dunno, like two thousand years? More? That’s impressive.”
He smiled thinly, “What about as prey?”
“Aren’t we doing this chronologically?” Karen cocked her head, “Less confusion that way, right?”
He couldn’t truly rebuke that, especially since she’d managed to half fumble through his word trap, so Dixon went back to discussing her flight. She tried not to brag about the impressive distance, or how many pigeon’s she’d killed, but had to admit her stop for directions had resulted in a brief standoff. Then she described her infiltration of the retirement home, her desperation to check on her Gramma, and worry of the Bad Egg.
“So you weren’t fully human?”
“No, I had… my eyes were avian, my tail was still around, my nails were a bit sharp, stuff like that.” Karen sighed, “Shape-changing’s hard, I can’t seem to get it perfect often.”
“Yet you decided to confront her anyway? In the dead of night? Looking half mystic?”
“I didn’t ask for this!” She snapped, “Would I have wanted to… to just me?! Yeah. But I was gonna tell her about magic anyway, so I went quickly, okay!?”
Dixon gave her a flat look, “And how did your grandmother react to you?”
“She… she welcomed me in. She was confused. Called me Sylph, Sylvia, my Mom’s name. Thought I was her, like it was twenty years back.” She slowed, freckly hands clenched tight around the railing, “But… a couple of times she remembered. I reminded her. She was so close to… to being how she was, and then she’d just slip away, stop making sense. I tried to ask about pigeons, about the Bad Egg, I grew my wings to show her it was real, and she… she…”
“Breathe.” Judge Graves advised from his chair.
“She clutched her head. She shook. When I tried to hold her, stop her hitting anything, she scratched me.” She felt the tears swell as she touched her cheek, “Like I was… it hurt. Then she fell, and I didn’t know what to do, and… then people came in, an-”
“Are you sure you didn’t cause it?” Dixon asked, “The seizure started during your conversation, didn’t it?”
“I didn’t hurt her, if that’s what you mean!” Karen snarled, hoofs stamping.
“Do you think you scared her?”
She couldn’t do much but glare through her tears at that. What else could she say without giving Ollie away too? “I… it was just wings. And eyes.”
“If you’d met a winged person with strange eyes last year, wouldn’t you have been a little scared?”
“I guess… I didn’t mean to, I just… I wanted to protect her.” She sobbed.
“Ahem, Your Honour,” Hugh stood abruptly, fixing his glasses, “May I request a small break for my cli-”
“I’m fine!” Karen snapped, drumming her hands off the rail, “Keep going.”
“She found the night quite traumatic, and pushing her may-”
“Shut up, it’s alright!”
Judge Graves stared at her, deep set old eyes weighing her already.
* * * * *
After another interval, they worked their way through the rest of her experience. The sudden onset of people, the nurses and Owens, and the policeman in the doorway. Dixon lingered there especially, questioning the order of her change into a full griffin, the officer’s shout, and her charge. When she exposed a shoulder riddled with scarring from a shotgun, he finally moved on past her headbutt, escape into the air, and panicked flight away.
“Where were you going to go, Miss Thomson?”
“I didn’t know. Away. I was scared of being shot. I didn’t understand what happened….” She admitted, “My wings- well, my body- was pretty exhausted. Think I was aiming for home, more or less, but don’t even know where I ended up?”
“Ended up?”
“Eventually I was too tired and hungry. Barely managed to land, just dropped out of the sky, and… I guess I looked for food on the fall down.”
“Food in this case being?”
“I… urgh, my instincts wanted the biggest quadruped I could spot. I didn’t really know what it was, might’ve been a cow, but-”
“Isn’t your vision quite excellent as a griffin?”
“Not at night.” Karen scoffed, “It was… mainly instinct. I felt like I’d starve if I didn’t get something, then… urgh, just blood everywhere, gore all over. I didn’t… I mean… I hadn’t, since I changed, but-”
“Except pigeons?”
“Except the Bad Egg.” She clarified, “But… I hadn't seen it since Ranelk.”
“Did you enjoy killing?”
Karen swallowed, “N- no. I didn’t ask for this! I didn’t ask to be a predator! It’s gross, it’s messy, it’s horrible.”
She hated the lie even as she breathed it. She’d tell Alastair how beautiful her kill had been, he might at least be able to appreciate it. Dixon himself considered her quietly, before moving onto the arrest as she ranted about being shot, pummelled by a lion monster, and stuck in a van. From there, it was unpleasant but honest. She didn’t need to exaggerate how much she’d hated the tight cell, the painful shot of her wing, the sense of being locked in a coffin to rot without magic or words.
“...then eventually Hugh got in, and I got to talk. He got me moved into the drunk tank, where I could lay at least.” She finished, throat feeling dry and raw from talking so long. “Got to phone my Pa, and… prepare for this, basically.”
“Thankyou, that was certainly quite the eventful night.” Dixon considered, “One last question if you would- if you could go back, would you act the same?”
“No?” Karen winced at the stupidity of the query. It had to be a trick right? “I’d… probably go home first. Phone. Talk to Mom, and Gramma, and… OAR or something.”
He exchanged quiet words with the Judge while a bailiff escorted her back to collapse in her chair, glad to finally be off her hooves. Hugh was jolly as ever, gave her a glass of water and a dose of Veil, a nervous eager energy rocking him like a schoolboy. “I was that convincing, huh?”
“Doubtful- this is where my work gets started.” Hugh whispered, “But remember what you said, just in case Dixon takes a second swing- consistency is key. For example, you apparently admire horses?”
“What else was I gonna say?” Karen sighed, and leaned back as the lawyers set to work. They brought up witnesses to the same stand as her, and grilled them in differing fashions. Dixon enjoyed presenting ideas, options, dry and clinical, while Hugh was cheerful and bumbling, full of his usual humour. They started from the gas station, with a clerk attesting to the terror of a dark winged monster swooping out of the night, and security footage showing she’d not laid a talon on anyone, and fled in peace.
Owens, the clerk from the Retirement Home, was summoned to talk of the weird girl who’d suddenly appeared, upset and frantic. He’d thought her a runaway, and called the police to try and help her get safely home, not noticing the mystic qualities until she didn’t return from the bathroom. He said he’d been scared, mostly for Veena, and also himself when the strange kid turned into a griffin in his grasp, as if ready to kill everyone present.
She enjoyed the interview of Officer Barker, her supposed victim, who Hugh pressed without mercy. He’d come to investigate a runaway youth, only to find worried orderly’s when she’d vanished. Noise from the old lady’s room had drawn them, only to find the winged girl present, quickly restrained while her grandmother suffered a seizure.
“... so he fell back, leaving you facing a juvenile female griffin? Gosh, sounds scary,” Hugh smiled, “How did you act, Officer Barker, do you remember?”
“Yeah,” The sharp tan man leaned thick arms on the stand, “First, I ordered it stop, calm down and-”
“Which one?”
“Huh?”
“Stop? Or calm down? Or, I believe Miss Thomson and Mr Owens recalled it as ‘get down’, but they were quite stressed?”
Barker grimaced, “That… that must have been it then.”
“Did you tell her she was under arrest, or read any rights?”
The stocky man reddened, “There wasn’t time- it was like an explosion, suddenly there was a monster in front of me. I was trying to take stock of the situation when it- she- charged and attacked me.”
Hugh nodded seriously, “My goodness, how did Miss Thomson attack you?”
“Charged me out of nowhere. It slammed me into a wall, lashed its tail at me, then took off running at the next person down the corridor.”
“Is it possible that she was just running towards the exit?”
Barker’s lips tightened. “Possibly. Or towards other victims.”
“Gosh, other victims? Who else? I seem to have missed the many people this sixteen year old kid maimed.” Hugh gasped in mock horror, “For that matter, are you quite healthy enough to be in court? I’d hate to strain you after such a harrowing encounter.”
“Well enough. Managed to walk it off.” He grumbled.
“Managed to walk it off. Marvellous, we truly are the cream of the crop, aren’t we?” He chortled, “Can I enquire as to the medical treatment you received? Any hospital bills the accused should cover?”
Barker’s face was near as delicious as horsemeat. No bills, no treatment. Karen relished his squirming as Hugh spelled out just how gentle his encounter with a panicked apex predator had gone, and sent him stomping off.
The ones after him were less interesting, enough to almost lose interest. A nurse from the home, who attested to the lack of physical marks or damage to Gramma, and the owner of the horse, Bethany Knight. She just went on about how good a horse Karen’s meal- Rusty- had been, her horror at finding the carcass in the field, her regret of not bringing it in for the night, and shock to see that the culprit was a cute little girl.
Dixon looked almost exhausted when Mrs Knight finally left the stand, having outdone even his love of superfluousness, but neatened his tie. “Thankyou, Mrs Knight. I have one final witness, if it pleases your honour?”
“You may proceed.” Judge Graves looked as focussed as ever, even after several hours. His eyes were keen, posture upright, as if he was more stone than man.
“In that case, I call Mr Rhodes to the stand.”
“Damn, he came?” Hugh grunted under his breath, “Behave, alright? No bluster.”
That only stirred her interest, and for easy reason as she recognized the broad man who filled the stand, coiled hair pulled back. He’d not changed for court, wearing just a tan blue shirt, dark slacks, and a palpable arrogance that set her hackles on edge.
“Now, Mr Noah Rhodes, to check may I enquire as to what kind of mystic you are?” Dixon began.
“My kind has been called Nemean Lion, Fu Dog, but I prefer Shi. Class B, so I’ll stay on top of the Veil.” He muttered dryly, before working through Dixon’s questions of the encounter, his task to track her down and retrieve her, and the shot through the wing.
“And, Mr Rhodes,” Dixon paced, spreading a hand, “In your expert opinion, is Miss Thomson a threat to civilians around her? She did assault you, after all.”
“Her?” The veiled lion cocked his head, brows furrowing, and looked to the Judge. “She din’t assault me, what’re you on about?”
“Reports from the policemen with you indicated that she pounced at you, and had a brief violent enco-”
“She’s a cub, man. She was playing. You call a toddler at your leg an assault? Nah, ‘course not. Cub can’t do nothing to me, even if she tried.” He chuckled.
Karen glowered at the brute, ears flicked up in irritation. How ungodly bloated was his ego!? Just for being born with a tough hide and a few years on her. He couldn’t fly. He’d needed human weapons to stand a chance, to avoid having her dive from above, or simply fly off.
“But surely you understand that you are quite exceptional, Mr Rhodes- while Miss Thomson may not be a threat to you, she is a serious danger to those around her, isn’t that accurate?”
“It’s not a fair world. I’m dangerous, ain’t got a tracker. Agent Kirk, up the back there, he’s dangerous, pure human too- and a liar, he said this was serious business, not some boring cub lecture.” Noah snorted, “Any of the people in this room could probably kill two or three others, easy, if they put their mind to it. So, we talking hypotheticals, or we talking what happened with Miss… thingy? Cos if you wanna lock up anyone dangerous, then you’re gonna be taking on a lot more work.”
“Thomson.” Dixon sighed, “So you refute the charge of assault against your person?”
“That’s what I said. Little jumping around, you know how kids are.” The arrogant brute chuckled, meeting her glare with a playful wink.
* * * * *
She was too tired to be nervous. Her ridiculous little tail hurt from the wooden chair, she wanted to rip her hooves off, and this much hair was never needed. Even so, she stood and trotted into the centre of the court as summoned, neatening her blazer as best she could.
“Present si- your honour.”
The stony judge steepled his fingers, considering her still, as if ready to change her sentence on the fly. He inhaled, glanced at the gallery behind her, then proceeded with a deep loud voice, “In light of the unnecessary cruelty of the punishments you endured in custody of Alderbank Police Department, and the testimony of the witnesses presented, it has been decided that your sentence shall be community service. You will pay back Knight Stables for the value of their animal, and may continue working there afterwards if you desire.”
Her heart bounced. No dungeon. No cells. She could go home! She could fly! She heard her hooves tap with excitement and relief, before steadying herself, “Right- thankyou. Uh, will the lady- Mrs Knight- will she be okay with that? With me?”
“It’s been approved. Technically it is a fine for damages, to the sum of four thousand dollars, but she wished to provide an accessible opportunity for someone your age to pay it back, enjoy, and gain experience along the way.”
Right, she’d said she loved horses. Karen swallowed, trying not to salivate at the thought of so much prey- she’d only get in more trouble if she succumbed to that temptation of hunting them.
Hugh read her expression, and stepped forward, “Excellent, that feels like an amenable solution, I’m sure Miss Thomson will learn plenty along the way.”
Then she was whisked off. Her amulet was returned, she was given space, and wearily turned back. She dressed in nice loose clothes, draped the familiar iron weight round her neck, and prepared herself. Horses were a simple matter. Griffin blood, lying parents and guilty siblings were so much more complex.