Judge Gast was shouting to be heard over the crowd, “Order! I will have order, or this will become a closed trial!” Judge Gast pounded a gavel on a wooden lectern in front of his throne. “Mr. Martin, do you have any witnesses to call or any evidence to present?”
“Yes, your honor, I would like to call to the stand, Professor Fiona Regan.” Several people stood up in their seats, and Demetrius was force to stand as well, craning his neck to look up and down the crowded aisles. A mane of unkempt brown hair could be seen moving, several rows down from Demetrius and on the opposite side of the room. She was still wearing the untidy green robes Demetrius had seen her in yesterday, with ink stains on both of the sleeves. She walked with her head held high, and the students moved to get out of her way as quickly as possible. After she descended the staircase and began the climb up to an unoccupied pillar directly in front of and below judge Gast, there was light applause in the audience.
Judge Gast pounded his gavel on the lectern again, and shouted much louder than was necessary, “Order! Order! One more outburst like that, and I’ll have you lot removed and detained for contempt of court!”
The silence was almost complete when Martin turned to face her across the gap, he said “Can you please state your full name for the court.”
The director of Research and Development said, “Fiona Lynn Regan.”
“And in your own words,” Martin continued and Demetrius wondered who else’s words she could possibly use, “can you please tell us of your interaction with Kimble Lane yesterday?”
Professor Regan took a deep breath and shook out her hands, she looked down at director Lane with the purest malice in her gaze, “Director Lane,” she paused and placed two fingers on her chin, “Former director Lane, came into my office yesterday and threatened me.” There was a collective gasp through the crowd, and Demetrius winced.
Professor Regan looked uncharacteristically fearful, clinging to her left elbow with her right hand, Martin spoke in a soothing voice, “He can’t hurt you anymore, Fiona, please, continue.”
With a glace down to the cage, Fiona continued, “He said ‘you’re either with us, or against us,’ and I didn’t know what he was talking about, he shouted at me and insulted me, and then he, he,” her voice caught, hitching into a sob.
“Take your time, Fiona, and remember you are safe here.”
“He summoned an orb of white energy and drew his sword! I think he meant to kill me!” She burst into overly hysterical sobbing, and hid her face in her hands.
The crowd had begun to murmur loudly again, but it was some time before judge Gast called for order, and after the murmuring had stopped, Martin said “That will be enough, Fiona, thank you for being so brave for us today.” He returned to Veles who had sat up brightly during the testimony, and was whispering into his ear. Veles looked strangely distant.
Fiona had turned as if she was going to descend down from the basalt pillar upon which she stood, when dean Stinson cleared his throat loudly and said, “Permission to cross examine the witness, your honor?”
Judge Gast said, “Yes, of course, do not leave the stand yet, Dr. Regan.”
Dean Stinson stood up, and walked a circle in the tiny space at the top of the pillar, before turning to face the witness, “Fiona, may I call you Fiona?”
The sad fearful expression vanished and she sounded affronted, “Certainly not!”
The dean smiled, “My apologies, hard to think of a former student as anything else, I called you Fiona for many years,” she seemed to bristle again, “I suppose you’ve earned it though, Dr. Regan. Now, you say that Kimble was in your office yesterday, and that he threatened you?”
She looked over to where Veles and Martin were whispering and then back to dean Stinson, “That is correct.”
“Do you recall what they used to call director Lane?” The dean had brought his pipe to his mouth and was chewing the stem idly, and picking at a piece of lint on the front of his robe.
Martin immediately spoke up, “Objection, your honor. Relevance?”
Judge Gast sounded bored, “Sustained. Otis, are you going somewhere with this?”
“Only trying to establish the witnesses knowledge of the accused.” The dean looked down at Kimble Lane, and then back at professor Regan. “Well, I know you know what they used to call him, because I taught all my students. They called him ‘The Red Wave.’ Do you remember why, Fiona?”
“Objection! Your honor, this is hardly the time for a history lesson on the accused, we already know he’s a man with a violent past.”
“Sustained. Otis, I don’t know where you’re going with this. If you have no further questions of relevance to yesterday, I’m going to let the witness step down.”
The dean smiled and nodded to the judge, and then said to Fiona, “If Kimble Lane, The Red Wave, actually threatened you yesterday, how is it that neither of you left the situation harmed?”
“Well,” she was looking directly at Veles now, and Demetrius followed her eyes. Veles seemed to nod ever so slightly, “We were interrupted by a witness, and I suppose he was afraid to act on his threats, for fear of winding up in that cage!” She gestured wildly with his inkstained hand to the man imprisoned on the floor far below her. Kimble looked up at her, his mouth bound and his expression fierce.
“So, you say he was afraid to act because of a single witness? And yet he attacked Alec Veles in front of half the school?” Fiona was looking desperately at Veles and Martin now, her face had turned bright red. “Now further questions, your honor.”
Judge Gast said, “You may step down, Dr. Regan.”
Fiona looked furious as she descended from the pillar. Her face was glowing and she kept casting hateful glances back up at Veles and Martin. She crossed the room and rather than climbing back to where she had been sitting in the stand, stormed out through the heavy double doors.
The room was nearly silent. Demetrius was startled out his thoughts by Cyndy’s voice. “Did I miss it?”
“What?” He whispered back at her, causing those sitting nearest to him to look at him suspiciously again. “No, they haven’t called me down yet.”
“What?” She sounded confused, “Not that!”
“Mr. Martin, do you have another witness you would like to call to the stand?” Judge Gast droned.
Martin inclined his head so his face was very nearly touching Veles’ and Veles whispered something fiercely, “Not at this time, your honor.”
“Very well. Dean Stinson, you have a witness you would like to call to the stand?”
The dean looked out into the crowd, and locked eyes with Demetrius, “Yes, your honor.” He waved, and Demetrius felt himself stand up. Those sitting nearest to him refused to move at first, they were crowding him standing up as well, trying to scan the stands for the surprise witness. Demetrius pushed his way through to the staircase, and began a slow walk down. He felt like he could feel every pair of eyes in the room, and he got further and further down the steps, the whispering in the crowd got louder. Cyndy was keeping perfect time with him, flying right next to his face, and he wondered if there was another person in untold number that could see her.
At the bottom of the stairs, he had to cross the floor directly past the cage that Kimble Lane was being held in. The director looked much older and weaker without his heavy armor. He nodded at Demetrius as Demetrius passed and Demetrius tried to keep his face impassive. It was a ghastly sight to see such a powerful figure stripped and bound. Behind each basalt pillar, there was a very narrow set of stairs. Demetrius climbed to the top of the center pillar, feeling more shaky with each step. By the time he reach the top, he was trembling. He stared up at the judge, afraid to look at the fall awaiting him at the side.
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“Step to the center please.” Judge Gast sounded very sympathetic and smiled down at Demetrius. Demetrius fixed his gaze forward, and took one very timid step towards the center.
Demetrius saw that the distance between the pillars was incalculably more vast than he had thought watching from the stands. The dean may as well have been in another city, but when he spoke the acoustics carried his high voice, “Can you please state your full name for the court?”
“Demetrius.” Said Demetrius.
“Your full name?” The dean sounded slightly amused.
“Er, that is my full name, sir. Demetrius.” Cyndy giggled near his ear and said something that sounded like ‘share’ and ‘mud on a.’
The dean smiled and said, “Very well, Demetrius, can you tell us of the alleged interaction you saw yesterday between Kimble Lane and Alec Veles?”
Demetrius clenched his eyes shut, and imagined himself sitting in the dean’s office, “Yes, sir. I was finished cleaning the administrative building, and I was making my way across the courtyard back towards the men’s dorm. I noticed that the crowd of people was still standing in front of the permit office, and I stopped to listen. Professor Veles was standing on a box and he was shouting about oppression and the military jackboots.” He was speaking very quickly, anxious to have all of the words out of him so that he could step down and return to his seat. “I didn’t see any jackboots at the time though, just a few of the campus security officers, and they seemed to be protecting Veles the people that were holding signs. Erm, as it is the FE,AR signs are well and good, but I don’t think it should be written on the walls. It’s a right pain to clean.”
The dean laughed, and said, “Please, Demetrius, try and stay on topic. What happened next.”
“Well, sir, director Lane showed up.” Demetrius managed to open his eyes and looked down at Kimble Lane in his terrible black stone cage, “He said that their permit expired, and that they’d have leave and ask for a new one. Professor Veles asked what would happen if they didn’t leave, and director Lane said ‘try me.’ Then Veles started acting all afraid, but he still didn’t get off the box. He put his hand in his pocket, Professor Veles that is, I think director Lane had his hand on his sword. As soon as professor Veles put his hand in his pocket, he got knocked off the box by a white ball.” Demetrius finished hurriedly, and noise erupted in the amphitheater, the crowd seemed to be on their feet.
“Objection! Your honor, speculation!” Demetrius looked over at Veles and Martin, Martin looked irate. Veles was gesturing to him, but Martin was staring at the judge.
“Overruled.” Judge Gast was banging his gavel on the lectern again. “Order, order I say!”
A dark, slender girl wearing blue fifth year robes burst through the double doors that Fiona had left through. She was bleeding from a long cut on her face, and clutching her side, blood was seeping through her robes onto her hands. Demetrius recognized her with mounting horror. Abigail! Several students jumped to their feet and began running down the stairs to help her. Noise erupted again, and judge Gast banged his gavel and called for order.
“Let her speak!” The judge roared, and acoustics carried his voice through the auditorium like thunder.
Several students were trying at once to support her, her voice was faint and Demetrius couldn’t make out what she was saying. Looks of horror erupted on the faces of the students that were supporting her weight. Demetrius looked around the room, feeling trapped and helpless on his elevated island.
“Now! It has to be now!” It was the syrupy voice of professor Veles, he was on his feet shouting, and as Demetrius looked, Martin threw a strange looking brass ball. It whizzed through the air with a high pitched buzzing sound, trailing a thin cord behind it that stretched back to Martins hand. In the time it took the ball to cross the distance, Martin had attached his end of the cord to the pillar he was standing on.
The ball crashed into the stained glass window, and rather than bouncing off the thick glass, it seemed to stick to the surface. Spindly legs erupted from the ball, and a horrible screeching noise filled the air. Cracks formed in the beautiful stained glass, and in a rain of bright fragments, the window shattered. The buzzing sound started again, and the brass legs began to spin madly, carrying the ball out into the open air. Veles, and then Martin, jumped from the pillar they were standing on, and flew past the pillar judge Gast was standing on, and they were gone. The cord that had carried them detached itself from the pillar, and shot through the air like an arrow.
Below, Demetrius could see Kimble Lane raging against the fetters that bounds him. Every muscle in his arms stood out as he struggled against the chains. Demetrius heard the dean call for someone to release Kimble, and heard the judge banging his gaven against the lectern. A stampede had erupted in the stands, as the staff and students tried to get to the exits, or to get to Abigail, who was now pressed under a crush of people. Demetrius watched the chaos erupt from his isolated island above it all, and heard Cyndy say, “One of the extras got trampled when they were shooting this scene in the movie.”
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Demetrius was sitting in his room, listening to the sound of yelling. After the attack, staff and students alike began demanding access to weapons and equipment to defend themselves. The dean had managed to get Kimble free, and it hadn’t taken him long to seize control. His office had apparently been raided however, and with it the vast majority of the school’s arsenal. Demetrius was surprised that the rumors of an underground facility in the administration building had been substantiated. The dean had helped Demetrius get out of the courtroom, and then had led him back to his room after explaining what had happened.
“Whole thing was a snipe hunt. Sorry to put you on the stand like that for nothing m’boy, but don’t worry, we’ll get things under control in no time!” He had patted Demetrius on the arm and closed the secret panel that led into his tiny bedroom.
Everything Demetrius had learned since then, he had learned the one time he’d left the now overly crowded men’s dormitory to eat. No one was allowed in or out of the campus grounds now, a full lockdown had taken effect until further notice. This meant that the cafeteria had been almost full when Demetrius had worked his way in to get a popkin from the kitchen staff. The dorm was more full than Demetrius had ever seen it, as all the students who lived off campus were forced to stay there.
The worst part though, had been how many people wanted to talk to him. Demetrius had been on the stand when it happened, the whole school had seen him. The walk to the cafeteria had been like a gauntlet. Everyone wanted to ask him what he knew, and to ask him to verify what they thought they knew.
“Is it true they’ve shut down the tele-reception chamber?”
“Is the switchboard really down? I need to contact my family, but they confiscated my ring!”
“Did Veles really fly off on the back of a griffin?”
Demetrius shrugged noncommittally to each of these questions, and forced his way to the kitchens. The cooks were also terrified, none of them lived on campus, and they wanted to know when they’d be able to leave. Luckily, none of them had been at the trial either, so they didn’t think that Demetrius knew anything more than they did. He got his popkin, and decided that he had better stock up. It didn’t seem there was going to be any shortage of food any time soon, the dry and cold storage were stocked to the brim, and Demetrius filled a sack up with fruit, bread, hard cheeses, and cured meats. He made his way back to his room as surreptitiously as possible.
Now he sat on his bed, trying desperately to think of anything besides the pain he heard in the fearful voices that carried through the walls. He had lit a candle, and was holding his ‘lamp’ in his hand, willing it to light. It flickered momentarily, and then faded.
Cyndy appeared near his hand, and looked up at him, “What’re you doing?” She asked, looking between him and the stone in his hand.
“Trying not to think. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t read for all this yelling. I was hoping trying to turn this on would take my mind off things. I’ve turned it on a couple of times, you know.” He looked at the stone in his hand, and tried to imagine it glowing again.
“Oh yes, I’m sure you’ve turned it on more than you know, cutie.” She flew up from his hand and hovered very near his face, “But what do you mean, you don’t know what to do?”
“I’m scared Cyndy! This is my home, and it’s all going crazy!”
She flew really close to his ear, and her voice was slightly faint, “You need to go get Emile.”
“Who’s Emile?” Demetrius was momentarily distracted from his intense concentration, and the stone in his hand burst into light. It was brighter than the flickering candle on the floor, but only slightly. “I did it!” He looked down at the stone in time to see it return to its dull, lightless state.
“Emile! The Queen General!” Cyndy’s voice was growing louder with every word, “The Tower Crasher! The Ill Wind!” She flew from his ear to back in front of his face, and he noticed for the first time none of her skin was showing, she was dressed in black from head to toe, her yellow hair pulled back tightly behind her head, “She pulls the strings, or cuts them. She’ll set everything straight.”
“Really?” Demetrius said, setting the stone down, “Well, I can’t go get anyone right now, the campus is on lock down. No one can leave.”
Cyndy put her hands on her hips, “Demetrius, you grew up here! You’re telling me that you don’t know a secret way out?”
“I mean, I’m not supposed to leave, and anyway, why should I trust you! I’m still not even sure you’re real!”
She looked hurt by his words, and started to turn her back on him, “Really? After all we’ve been through?” She started to fly away from him very slowly, “I’ve never lied to you, you know, but if you’d rather I could just leave.” Shrouded in black as she was, she was beginning to vanish into the shadows as she flew farther away from him.
“Wait, no! Don’t go! I mean, I suppose they’re not going to expect me to keep up on the cleaning with everything that’s going on.” He thought of Madam Druce’s words Would it really be that bad for you if they did? What’s the worst thing that can happen?
Instantly she was right in front of his nose again, “So you’ll do it! She’s not far now!” Demetrius looked around his tiny room, lined with borrowed books. Even his clothes technically belonged to the University, nothing in his life actually belonged to him. What have I got to lose?
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