Rhian, Palisade

There are some who believe all things are inevitable…

Just fucking with you. This isn’t The First One, and if you haven’t read it, what the hell are you waiting for? And if you have read it, you’ll soon realize this story is nothing like that one, except for most of the people in it, the fact I’ll be telling some of it, the fact Andrei Strauss will be telling the rest of it, and the fact it starts exactly the same.

Anyhow. It was about seven months before the events of The First One, and the six women surrounding me held my destiny in their hands and whatnot.

As you might remember, I’d landed myself in a pot of boiling water on account of something terrible that happened in Delphia. You might already know the result, but at the time, I reckoned there’d only be three possible outcomes of the trial.

The first, I’d be absolved of all my sins and life would carry on as normal. Good stuff. The second, I’d be tossed into the asylum until the end of time. Not so good stuff. And the third, I’d be relieved from duty altogether and be sent on the Chase. You know, where I’d be set free, hunted down, and killed by my own people. Frankly, that was the best case scenario and I was surprised it hadn’t already happened. At the time, I hadn’t even considered the fourth possibility—that is, being landlocked at Palisade indefinitely while being forced to teach tiny Partisans how not to die. Whatever.

The first hour of my trial consisted of the six Councilwomen introducing themselves as we all didn’t already know who they were, me introducing myself as if they all didn’t already know who I was, and Michael introducing himself as if we all didn’t already know who he was. All for the record and whatnot.

Behind a small desk over by the door, a pasty Celestian scribbled away in a book.

The Isle of Palisade was generally overcast, so there wasn’t much light coming through the glass roof that day. Lucky for the scribe, Partisans can see in the dark, and the blazing torches in each of the corners were only there for vanity, I reckoned. Everybody looks better in firelight. The room was shaped like a hexagon, and in each corner there was a podium—one for each Councilwoman.

Of all the members of the Assembly, The Councilwoman of Delphia cared the most about her appearance. As long as I’d known her, Adelaide Blanchett never went anywhere without her fancy clothes and a face full of makeup. I’d always suspected it was on account of she had the most to hide. That day, her big, curly red hair was piled on top of her equally big head. It all clashed terrifically with her purple ceremonial robes.

Somehow she made it work.

“Enforcer Rhian Sinclair, you stand before us today under accusation of theft, heresy, fraud, conspiracy, murder, malicious destruction of property, arson, negligence, and aiding and abetting the escape of several recorded defects. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“That sounds about right,” I replied.

“You’re admitting guilt on all counts?”

“I’m agreeing those are things that happened, but no, I don’t feel guilty.”

To my left, one of my oldest and dearest mates, Michael Reider, stood ready to defend me if it seemed I was about to step in some shite. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in that position, and it wasn’t the first time Michael was there to back me up. The side-eye told me he didn’t like my answer, but there was nothing I could do to change it now. Besides, it was true.

“Let me speak plainly for you,” Councilwoman Blanchett continued. “Are you responsible for the deaths of five Barren noblemen, including the Liaison himself?”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Aye, I’m taking full responsibility for what happened to those men. But look, I had to escape that mess just like everybody else. I’m a lot of disgraceful things, but suicidal isn’t one of them. Also, I can tell you’re trying to fish around in my head, Councilwoman. I may not be able to read them myself, but I know my rights.”

Goddess-be-damned telepaths. The Delphi Partisans tended to forget the extent of the training most Strachan Chasers and Enforcers had against their mind tricks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a smirk on Councilwoman Kelly’s face. Seeing as she was my Councilwoman, she wasn’t allowed to vote in the end, but she was still allowed to be there. It seemed she was having a blast already. Glad to be of service and whatnot.

There were only two other members of the Assembly I could see from my place in the middle of the room. The first was the one-hundred-fifty year old Senec. She was a mute, and a stoic, and I wasn’t getting much from her, so I didn’t even try. The other was the Councilwoman of Amalia—Councilwoman Faust. She was old, and wrinkled, and her bird-like expression wasn’t giving much away, either. She usually had my back in these situations, but I’d always figured there’d be a limit to her generosity. I wondered if this would be it.

Back to the Councilwoman of Delphia—the one with the fiery red hair, and the one who had the most at stake in this trial. She didn’t look impressed. “Your rights? We like to think of these more like guidelines, as in, they are discretionary.”

I rolled my eyes as far back into my head as they’d go.

“Do you think I like having to accuse one of our own of such atrocities?” she asked.

As a matter of fact, I did.

“As a matter of fact,” I said. “I do.”

“Well, I do not—none of us do. And besides, Enforcer Sinclair, I’ve seen enough to know you are being sincere. I’m prepared to hear your story without further intrusion.”

She didn't need to know that she saw only what I wanted her to see.

“Praise Stracha.” I flashed her a big smile. I’m told I have a charming one. Even with the chipped tooth and whatnot. “It’s my lucky day.”

Councilwoman Blanchett’s cheeks turned redder by the second.

“Does your Councilwoman Kelly accept such lip from you?”

“Naw,” I said. “Kelly doesn’t just accept it—she’s grateful for it. See, the minute I stop yapping is the minute I’m dead and no longer useful to her.”

Glancing over my shoulder to the southeast, I winked.

Councilwoman Kelly waggled her fingers.

It was then the Celestian scribe piped up from the background. “I should call attention to the time, Councilwomen. Lunch will be served in the lounge shortly.”

Well, I could have used some lunch. Pity I didn't get any.

After agreeing to a recess, the Assembly all stepped away from their podiums and filed out the door with the scribe at their tail. That’s when I took a moment to examine the two I couldn’t see from where I stood—the Councilwoman of Celestia and the Councilwoman of Endica. The latter had always been fair, and I reasoned she might see my side of things when it was all said and done. The former, though—yikes.

Left alone in the chamber with Michael, he looked at me with his serious face.

“Okay, Rhian—if I’m going to be of any actual help to you today, I need you to tell me everything. Start at the beginning.”

I plopped down on the floor and waited for Michael to do the same.

The thing about Michael, he was a plain looking fellow but it worked for him. He had a nice build, being highly active and Amali and all, but as far as his features went, they were rather ordinary. Everything exactly where it ought to be, and everything exactly the right size. He kept his brown hair short, and his grey eyes were a shade darker than mine.

“All right, here goes,” I said. “I was born on an embark on the twenty-fourth day of the eleventh month in the year 803.”

Michael sighed, but I reckoned he was having fun anyhow. Beats whatever the hell else he’d be doing at the minute.

“Rhian,” he said.

“Michael,” I said.

“I need you to start at the beginning of everything that happened in Delphia. The reason I’m half-assed defending you in trial. Again.”

“All right, fair enough,” I said. “I’ll save the cheek for the Assembly.”

Michael nodded.

Knowing what was coming next, I crossed my legs and settled in. “So, me and Gus had just arrived on the Isle of Inspiration, and you should know, we were a day ahead of schedule…”