The practiced scritch scritch of Charity scratching out my opening statement the only sound in the now deathly quiet room.
“What the fuck?” Harper's scandalized utterance not loud, but loud enough to fill the void. The sharp click of her teeth also audible as her mouth comes snapping back shut.
“Miss,” says Parnell, “please refrain from any more outbursts or I'll have you removed.” The man looking at the assemblage. “Unfortunately, it seems the topic of what occurred in the harbor is not the reason that we find ourselves gathered here today and, as such, that topic has no place in these proceedings. This tribunal has been convened to examine the events that occurred last cycle in the graveyard.” Parnell looking straight at Magpie. “Macarthy has stated her name for the record and, because you are also being charged, would you please be so kind as to state yours, as well?”
The girl completely floored, blinking repeatedly but otherwise not moving. Parnell reaching out his hand, gesturing for her to rise, and Magpie slowly getting to her feet. “Um, Mr. Parnell, sir, my name is Grace Upton.” Waiting for a response but not getting one. Sitting back down, her eyes bouncing back and forth from the people at the front of the room, Parnell to the Augur to Parnell to Charity, diligently taking notes off to the side.
Harper's hand shooting into the air, a particularly eager student seeking attention from a teacher.
“Yes, miss?”
Hopping to her feet. “Before we get started I would like the opportunity to confer with my clients.”
“Your clients?” Amusement and incredulity warring in his response.
“You said this was an official military tribunal, correct? If that's the case they should be entitled to representation. I assume my clients are aware of the charges, the charges that they're being charged with, that is.” Her glance at us only betraying a mild touch of hysteria. Nodding at her. “And I would like to confer with them.”
Parnell's earlier amusement not surviving Harper's reiteration. “Alright,” he says, “we'll recess for ten minutes. That should be plenty of time for your,” acid dripping from the next word, “clients to fill you in. You can confer with them in there.” Pointing off to the side at a confessional booth.
The three of us walking across the entire room and trying not to look to our right. The entire House watching us, with our escorts following a few steps behind. Charity actively avoiding my gaze. All three of us squeezing into one side of the confessional and the dull drone of conversation outside starting up after the door had closed.
“Holy fuck, that guy is nuts,” says Harper. “And this a military base, they're all wearing uniforms.”
“That's what they're like.”
“I've always liked how their uniforms look,” says Magpie, forcing Harper and myself to concede the point. “Anyway, Sir Parnell has a reputation for fairness. He's obviously angry at Mac for what happened, but Mac, with what you said, he can't do anything to you about it.”
Sir Parnell? Oh, Magpie, having a starstruck crush on a guy like Parnell isn't going to end well. Charity may have gotten her hooks into him, for now, but we'll see how that all ends.
“Magpie, listen to me very carefully. Parnell does what he thinks is right. If, in his head, something is right, then obviously doing it is the right thing to do. That's how he operates, and he'll use whatever he needs to get what he wants done. The only reason he's even going through this charade of an inquest is to create legitimacy, for everyone out there and probably for himself, too. People can justify or rationalize anything if the procedure, if the right ritual, is followed, first. That's how they can do whatever they want and then still think they're good people afterwards. I'm really sorry I got you involved in this and I'll do my utmost to take the blame for both of us. My spell was the only thing we did.”
“What spell? What actually happened?” says Harper.
“Last cycle they came to kick me out of the graveyard. We wanted to compromise and they wouldn't. I froze one, some threats were made, he unfroze and they left us alone. The plan today was to talk to them about it, and then the harbor happened.”
“That's it?” Nodding. “No damage, no nothing?” Nodding again. “Any other incidents in the recent past that would make them want to kick you out?” Shaking my head. “Then you should plead guilty and apologize. See if we can get them to agree to something in exchange. Community service. They probably have a ton of laundry or cleaning or whatever they need done.”
“That... could work.” If it doesn't help me hopefully Magpie gets off easier. “But the reason we came here today was so we'd be allowed back into the graveyard. Evie has to go there because of her thing, and me and Magpie have been helping her in there for a number of cycles now.”
“Because of her thing?”
“It doesn't like undead.”
“I don't blame it,” says Magpie. “They're creepy.”
“Julie, you have to admit they're pretty creepy.” Harper making no such admission. “A bunch of these Wyrmsblood people are actually in the same situation as Evie, they've sworn to destroy the undead and there are just loads of 'em roaming around the graveyard.”
“The undead in the graveyard are roaming freely?” Harper less annoyed now than a few moments earlier. Considering my statement. “I suppose destroying them would make sense. And you're helping – Evie, was it? - you're helping Evie do it. So that's the story. Even if that guy doesn't like you, we've got the whole House here, and if a bunch of them are in Evie's position then hopefully they understand when we explain. He may have struck what you said earlier, but they all heard it just the same. That must've created some reasonable doubt in their minds about your character, and he can't be that unreasonable in front of them.”
“Julie, were you studying to be a lawyer before coming out here?” says Magpie.
“No, but I used to watch some of those shows, too. Both of you try and seem like you're sorry when you're saying sorry.”
The door to the confessional opening and the three of us half falling out. A few cursory glances in our direction from some of the audience, but most continuing with their conversations. Parnell, Charity, Walker and a few others having a conference at the central table. Heading back to our defendant's pew and taking a seat, our other escorts sitting behind and around us once more.
“Order. Order.” With his conference concluding Parnell's relaxed command for silence echoing around the room and the various conversations quickly coming to a close. “I hope you've had enough time to confer with your clients. If you're acting as their counsel, please state your name for the record.”
Getting to her feet. “Juliet Harper.”
“Ms. Harper, it's my understanding that you're a new arrival. Welcome.” Harper nodding politely. “If you'll indulge me for a moment, I was wondering how exactly you came to be acquainted with Macarthy.”
“Oh,” Harper momentarily at a loss, “um, we ended up meeting at the gala a couple minutes before that thing attacked.”
“Is that right?” The man clearly skeptical, and not even bothering to look at the woman next to him, who'd gone wide eyed. My blood starting to boil.
“Just so you know I tried to stop that thing then and there and wound up getting killed by it for my trouble.” My statement prompting a few chuckles from behind me.
“One of life's little ironies, I suppose.” The chuckling in the room spreading. Squeezing the seat of the pew while trying to keep my anger down. “Ms. Harper, is there anything you'd care to say before we begin?”
“Yes. After consulting with my clients I have two proposals. First, due to the fact that no one was harmed during the altercation in the graveyard, I'd like to put forward a guilty plea for them in exchange for merciful sentencing. An apology to those affected and to your House, and community service to you as restitution. Second, I'd like to get their access to the graveyard reinst-”
Parnell banging the table and shaking his head. Trying not to smile, so obviously trying not to let it be seen. “I don't know what your,” the word drenched in disdain, “clients told you about what occurred, but the offenses are greater than whatever they've said. First, for Ms. Upton, trespassing on multiple occasions on House Wrymsblood territory without seeking approval, even retroactive, from the House. It has been many cycles since she started this behavior and it has progressed to the point where it needs to be addressed. Second, the incident in question. Ms. Upton put a sword in the face of one of our number, a Mr. John Smith, seated right over there.” Gesturing in the direction of the rightmost pew. The man standing and then sitting down.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Now, if those were the only offenses I'd entertain your first proposal, but your other client has a much more weighty charge, by far.” His gaze turning to me. “Macarthy, Ms. Macarthy, excuse me, you should be immeasurably glad that I am a God fearing man. You should be immeasurably glad that due to your circumstances I consider the stains of your past largely washed away. If that were not the case the list of charges against you would be without end. You, at least, had the presence of mind to seek our approval before entering our territory, the incident in question your one violation. As for the incident itself, casting a paralysis spell on Mr. Abraham Campbell, also seated over there.” The man standing, and back down. “You then pulled a knife on Mr. Campbell and threatened to drown him in the Rotting Bog. But, as callous as that may be, that isn't your true crime, not by a longshot.” Parnell gathering himself. “Your true crime is corrupting the innocent. The Cleric Evelyn Riley, the Empath Kate Wolfe, and your two companions here, Ms. Harper and Ms. Upton.”
Almost losing my shit, my anger almost boiling over, clenching the pew with both hands to prevent it. Resisting the urge to create that cracked, bloodsplatter, that mutated, cancerous stain. My judgement on him and the world, and Erase him.
“What have you done with them? You claim you're a God fearing man but I'll teach you the fear of God.”
My words met by a short silence, then, from behind me, the beginnings laughter, turning into guffaws. Parnell glaring in hate as laughter spreads throughout the gallery in patches. Our staring contest continuing well after it had run its course, and had been replaced by awkward coughs and shifting creaks from the pews.
Parnell clearing his throat. “I will assume you said that out of frustration and not add that outburst to the list of charges. Nancy, please strike that from the record.” Turning back to me. “I will say that I'm glad you at least outwardly seem concerned with their well being. It gives me hope that one day you may yet find redemption. To answer your question, I didn't do anything whatsoever with them, but it's my understanding that they're undergoing an intervention by their own respective institutions. I hope you can understand that it's for their own benefit.”
The boiling anger slowing to a simmer. Had assumed the worst. The temperature ticking up a few notches. Intervention is a pretty broad term, it still could be the worst. Probably not, calm down. There's nothing to be done about it right now, anyway. Focus on getting these two out of here.
“Julie,” in a soft tone, “don't waste any time worrying about me. I'm fucked. Make sure you focus on you and Magpie.”
“You're joking.” Her reply an incredulous whisper. “That is the most ridiculous charge I've heard in my entire life.”
“You don't understand. You need to look out for-”
Pounding from the desk. Parnell. “I call on Mr. Abraham Campbell to relay his version of events. Take a seat, right here.” The man walking from his pew to a chair near the tribunal. “Mr. Campbell, be aware that any testimony you give is being verified for truth. Please tell us what happened.”
“Commander,” says the man, “last cycle I was entrusted with a mission to inform Macarthy there,” his finger pointing at me, “that her access to the graveyard had been canceled. Upon delivering the news we had an argument and Ms. Riley put up a sanctuary in order to have a chat with her.”
“A sanctuary?” Parnell's gaze flicking over to me.
“Yes, Commander. So they're talking inside the sanctuary, and I don't know what it was that Macarthy said to them - her back was to me at the time - but whatever it was it really got them upset. I'm talking real upset. So the sanctuary ends and they all come walking up. Now, at the time, I didn't know that this Macarthy was actually the Macarthy.” Harper cocking her head a bit, at that. “Ms. Riley asks to see if we can hold off enforcing the expulsion. Now, at the time, I figured four first year girls would be easy enough to persuade, and that's what I tried to do.” Magpie cocking her head a bit, at that. “Unfortunately, in retrospect, they were obviously operating under duress.” Cocking my head a bit, at that.
The three of us glancing at each other. Magpie's brow knitted in frustration. Harper squinting at me and mouthing something, 'The Macarthy'. Trying to channel my nonexistent psychic energy to urge caution. Not really working. Magpie growing no less angry and Harper no less intrigued. Slowly reaching out my hands, instead, and seeking theirs.
“Don't worry about me.”
“-so there I am, completely frozen. Macarthy's got a knife in my face and Upton over there has her sword in John's. Macarthy says I'm going to either suffocate in the bog, best case, or something's going to come by and eat me. That's a crazy threat, just to put out so casual. The rest of you in this room, I know some of you laughed earlier, but remember what she said to the Commander. You heard the girl say it, but you didn't really comprehend. That was an earnest threat. If you ever get frozen like I did, and that psycho is waving a knife in your face, you'll understand what I mean.”
“Focus on getting Magpie out of this.”
“After that we gave our report at the Mausoleum and organized a couple search parties to check out their usual hangout, but they weren't there. They probably left right after.”
“I see,” says Parnell. “Thank you for your testimony.” Looking to the woman to his left. “For the record, was all of that the truth?”
“Yes, it was.”
Parnell making a show of giving a heavy nod. “Since that is the case, I would say that it's clear the facts speak for themselves. You are both guilty of all charges and-”
Harper leaping to her feet. “What kinda kangaroo load of absolute crap is that?” Starting to reach out my hand. Very tempted to use the shield to grab her but the girl moving out of my range. “We don't get to cross examine? We don't get to call our own witnesses? What kind of proceeding is this? This isn't even on the level of teevee court.”
“What would the punishments be?” On my feet and attempting to interrupt, causing Harper to look back at me. My escort in the pew behind me also getting to their feet and their weapons coming out. Standing absolutely still.
Parnell ignoring me, staring at Harper until she'd turned to face him once again. His attention flickering to me, then back. “Let's see, for Ms. Upton, some light fines, a hundred silver for each of her visits to the graveyard. I'm not exactly sure of the number of violations, but let's say five hundred silver. For drawing her weapon I'll go with your suggestion, Ms. Harper, an apology to Mr. Smith and ten hours of community service here.”
Magpie breathing a sigh of relief. Harper losing her worried look and glancing back at me. Nodding at her. Please take this deal.
“For Ms. Macarthy, similar punishments, one hundred silver for trespassing and twenty hours of community service, more because of the spell and the threat. Not here, though, I don't want her here. Somewhere else. For the last charge, death, and then to be killed on sight if she enters our territory for the foreseeable future.”
Harper regaining her worried look. Nodding at her. Please take this deal.
“Of course,” Parnell lazily gesturing at me, “such a lenient sentence requires that the crime no longer be occurring on an ongoing basis. Until such time as you have actually repented for your actions, and have made good faith efforts to change your behavior,” his tone making it clear he thought that an impossibility, “your influence on all of their impressionable minds must be removed entirely. Frankly, this whole situation would have been so much easier if you'd accepted our earlier judgement, and you hadn't gone and done what you did. For everybody.”
Zen, Harper had said. My state out in the field last cycle. Is that what this emotional state is? His admission driving me so far beyond fury that it's come all the way back around again to calm. Tracing on my entire hand.
“That's totally unacceptable,” Harper saying, in a not very zenlike manner. Big gesticulations.
“Mac.” Magpie on her feet and reaching out a restraining hand. “We're going to get you out of this.” Not a very zenlike expression on her face, either. Noticing, now, our escort surrounding me, their weapons out and ready to strike.
“-ludicrous, and that's not even getting into what I think about your sentence.” Harper still going, from the sound of it. “I'm going to fight that third charge. She had a good reason for being there and not your twisted interpretation.”
Parnell listening to her harangue with a solemn expression. “Ms. Harper, I understand you're upset.” Holding up a hand. “Ms. Harper, please.” Harper finally running out of steam and letting him speak. “If it will make you feel better I will allow you to present a defense for your supposed friend, but please understand that, as of this specific moment, I consider you a victim in all of this. Both unknowing and unwitting.” Harper not immediately responding. She must have heard that threat. Julie, be smart, focus on you and Magpie.
“I'm calling Grace Upton to the stand.” The willful girl deciding to ignore all of my earlier advice and instead pressing onward. Magpie releasing my arm and walking toward the occupied witness chair. The current witness standing and starting to walk away. “Be prepared for me to call you back for a cross examine after her testimony,” Harper saying at his retreating form.
“Wait, why her? I should take the stand.”
Magpie's restraining presence had been replaced by a knife at my throat, held by Walker. What's his first name, again? Starts with a, um, something.
“These people hate your guts – so many people do, it's incredible,” says Harper. “I don't think they'd believe a word you say, even with an Augur.” Gesturing at Magpie. “And she has more courtroom experience than you.”
Closing my eyes and quickly counting to ten. Told them not to worry about me. Begged, in a way, but they're doing this anyway. They both have to know what it means - his threat should've been clear enough - but they've made their decision and now there's no choice but to respect that. Maybe a miracle will occur. Certainly less probable things have happened.
“Thank you.”
“This is some bullshit,” Magpie says.
Nope, no miracles today.
“Seriously, thank you.”
Looking up at the man holding the knife and his name springing to mind. “Matt, can I go back and take my seat for this last little bit?” His eyes searching mine. “You know, before you get to it.”