One Last Breath

by S. C. Stokes

  Every bone in her body told her to be defiant but shackled and outnumbered six to one in the tiny cell, even Kasey didn't fancy her prospects.

  Now it seemed she would get her day in court after all—whether she wanted it or not.

  One agent stood on either side of her as they escorted her out of her prison. Then, with Blondie McJawline and another agent running point, an agent at each side, and two bringing up the rear, she made her way through the cells.

  The party walked past row after row of cells, eventually reaching a large steel door. The door was open, and the party proceeded through it into a hallway. The trailing agent sealed the steel door shut behind them.

  The hallway was only slightly more furnished than her cell had been. It had tiles instead of the cobblestone floor, cheap wallpaper and a faded blue carpet runner that ran the length of the hallway.

  The party trudged along the hall for what seemed like an eternity.

  Kasey busily scanned the corridor looking for any opportunity to escape. The agents kept a close eye on her, their hands never far from their weapons and their eyes watching her every movement. No doubt the Chancellor had been explicit in his directions. If there was going to be a chance to break out, she would have to manufacture it herself.

  Kasey did her best to measure the distance from the cells to the Council Chamber to try and gauge the location of the prison, but distracted by the agents surrounding her, she soon lost count.

  The party arrived at a set of hardwood stairs. The tacky wallpaper that had lined the corridor gave way to wood paneling. Kasey recognized the style from her earlier visit to the Council Chambers. She knew they were nearing the end of her journey. No doubt, the stairs would take them before the Council and the assembled court.

  The party started up the stairs. Kasey was on the fourth step when the agent beside her slipped. He knocked into her as he fell on his face. She stumbled back, flailing for a handhold. Her back slammed into someone. She toppled down the stairs, landing in a heap with two other agents.

  Kasey did her best to extricate herself from the mess but with the cuffs it was difficult to untangle herself. The agent behind her wrestled himself free. An older agent with a thick salt-and-pepper beard reached down and scooped Kasey up. He set her on her feet, then looked down and checked her cuffs. As he did so, she felt something pressed into the palm of her hand. The agent’s hand clasped shut around her own.

  She looked up at the agent who gave her the faintest smile before winking at her. The motion was so quick Kasey wondered if she had seen it at all. A second later the smile faded.

  “On your feet now, Chase,” he snapped. “We’ll not have any more of that tomfoolery from you. Another stunt like that and the Chancellor will have your head."

  Kasey nodded along and dropped her hands. The last thing she wanted was for the agents’ suspicions to be aroused. The agents collected themselves and escorted her up the stairs.

  At the top of the stairs was a heavy oak door. The lead agent opened the door to reveal the Council Chambers Kasey had visited only weeks before.

  As Kasey was escorted into the hall, the audience erupted. Hurried whisperings broke out in the gallery as the crowd strained their necks to get a better look at her.

  She looked at the roof. It seemed the damage that had been done in their previous escape had since been repaired.

  She entered the courtroom, searching the swarm of assembled spectators for a familiar face. The crowd whispered and jeered. It seemed from the spirit in the room that Kasey's fate was a foregone conclusion. Those gathered were eager to watch a verdict be handed down and enjoy the temporary pleasure to be had watching another's misfortune unfold.

  Then in the midst of everything, a face she knew all too well. Front and center behind the defendant’s desk was her mother. She stood there with an expression that could have been carved from stone.

  As Kasey's eyes locked on to hers, she caught a glimmer in her mother’s eye that threatened to roll down her cheek. Jane's hands gripped the wooden balustrade before her until her knuckles turned white.

  Kasey had never seen her mother so distraught. The ADI cordon guided Kasey through the room and sat her at the desk. She slid her chair forward until she was safely ensconced behind the table. The ADI departed and took up their posts around the chamber.

  Shielded by the table, Kasey took a moment to look down and check on the object that had been pressed into her hand.

  It was a key.

  Clenching her fist shut, she studied the agent that had given it to her. He, along with another agent, stood below the council’s raised lectern. The agent nodded slowly. For the first time in two days, Kasey had hope.

  Above the agent, the Arcane Council sat behind their raised bench, forcing the occupants of the court to look up in order to see them. Kasey tried to get a read on them, but their faces were impassive. Everyone except for the Shinigami masquerading as Arthur Ainslie; he looked positively jubilant.

  Note to self, he needs a punch in his smug face.

  Blondie McJawline raised his hand for silence. When the courtroom didn't respond, he shouted over the din, "Silence! This session of the Arcane Council is called to order. Please, be seated."

  The assembled masses took their seats and Kasey braced herself.

  With the courtroom silent at last, he continued. "As you well know, Kasey Chase was recently apprehended by the ADI. The list of charges levied against her by the council is substantial. Prosecutor, if you'd be so kind as to read them for us, so that the court might understand the gravity of the charges being considered today.”

  Kasey glanced to her left, to the table that housed the chief prosecutor. The man wore a simple pinstripe suit, and his jet black hair was slicked back. The corners of his mouth edged upward. Clearly, he was excited for his day in court.

  Kasey hated him immediately.

  The prosecutor stood, buttoned his suit, and then lifted a file off the table. Strutting out from behind his desk, he addressed the Council.

  “Witches and wizards of the Council, the case against Miss Chase is extensive. Her utter disrespect for the law is matched only by her disregard for human life. The charges against her are as follows. Two counts of break and entry. One count of theft.” The prosecutor paused and eyed the room before adding, “That we know of. Thirty-four counts of damaging Council property with damages totaling in excess of five million dollars. Tampering with evidence, obstructing an ongoing investigation. Ninety-six counts of assaulting an agent. Widespread vandalizing and damage throughout the city, including attacking and defacing the priceless Lady of Liberty. Aiding and abetting a felon, in particular the notable ex-director of the ADI and the man responsible for the murder of Theodore Getz.” The prosecutor finished with a flourish.

  The court erupted into a furor of whispers and muttering.

  Arthur Ainslie raised his hand for silence. "Silence! We will have silence in the court, or we will eject the gallery from the proceedings."

  The whispers died down.

  Arthur continued. “Miss Chase, the charges against you are extensive. The council has recommended that you obtain legal counsel, which suggestion you have rejected entirely. Before we proceed, you must understand that lack of adequate counsel will not prove sufficient grounds for a mistrial. If you proceed unrepresented, our verdict here today will stand, and you will bear the full consequences of your actions. Do you understand me?"

  "I do," Kasey replied, her heart pounding.

  Another member of the Council, an elderly woman, leaned over the lectern. “Very well, Miss Chase. How do you plead?"

  Kasey leaned forward until her mouth was mere inches from the microphone. "Not guilty."

  Chapter Eighteen

  The courtroom exploded into a frenzy. The gallery whispered furiously.

  "Order! Order in the court!" Arthur rose to his feet. "We will have silence, or the gallery will be ejected. This is your final warning."

  As the gallery
quietened down, Arthur's gaze narrowed on Kasey.

  "Miss Chase,” he said, “I fear I must have misheard you. Could we have your plea again? Thank you."

  Kasey leaned forward and tapped the microphone. The dull thud echoed through the room. "Oh, it is working. It must just be you, Chancellor. The plea was ‘not guilty’ and your threat to empty the gallery twice before we've even begun in earnest has me wondering. Why are you so anxious to conduct the proceedings of this particular trial without an audience?"

  "Because it's a courtroom, not a circus, Miss Chase. I will not have you making a mockery of our justice system."

  Kasey grinned. "I wouldn't dare. Besides, the noise being produced by the gallery could scarcely be attributed to my disrespect for your criminal justice system. I think you are merely afraid of how you will look in the court of public opinion. After all, the Chancellor serves at the will of the people, does he not?"

  "That's enough! It’s you who is on trial, Kasey, not me."

  Kasey nodded. "I'm aware of that, Chancellor. You have my plea and I maintain my position. Not guilty on all counts.”

  The counselor beside Arthur, an august woman of advancing years, pulled the microphone away from him and toward herself. "Miss Chase, my name is Alice Hoskins. You are aware that we have video footage of many of these crimes being committed. There is little doubt in the council's mind that you are the person in the footage. Might I ask on what grounds you could possibly contend that you are not guilty? Or, as the Chancellor has asserted, are you merely trying to make a mockery of this courtroom?"

  Kasey had her audience and she was ready to perform for them. "That's an excellent question, Councilwoman, one that lies at the very heart of what I feel we truly need to discuss today. The grounds on which I make my claim are simple. The lesser charges we could deal with one by one, but first if I might speak to the more serious allegations against me, I would offer my defense that at the times in question, I was not acting as a private citizen contravening the laws of the Arcane Council. I had, in fact, been deputized by then Director Sanders to conduct those activities, which he had sanctioned. In many instances, we were opposed by other agents of the ADI who had been subverted by the Chancellor to act on his behalf and further his interests, but never at any time to date have I taken action contrary to what Director Sanders had instructed me to do."

  The prosecutor scoffed. "Objection, your honors. Director Sanders stands accused of the murder of Theodore Getz. As a result of which, he was removed from office by the Chancellor and is currently being hunted by this Council and its agents. Unfortunately, he remains at large and so cannot be here to answer for his own crimes. Neither can he corroborate this outlandish claim. Miss Chase’s ridiculous defense rests on a fallacy and fiction that we simply can't entertain.”

  Councilwoman Hoskins slid down her glasses and looked at Kasey over their wire rims. “Miss Chase, the prosecutor has a point.”

  The prosecutor sat down, a grin crossing his face.

  "Oh, he would, your honor, if any of it were true. It is correct that Director Sanders is currently being pursued by the ADI. But he is being pursued for a murder he did not commit and for which he has not yet been tried nor convicted. Therefore, I move that he remains innocent until proven guilty by this court, and assert that I was, in fact, acting under his rightful direction to help bring the true murderer of Theodore Getz to justice—a pursuit and duty of his office that he continues to carry out to this day, in spite of his recent, unlawful, and baseless removal from office. So, as I have said, the only actions I took against agents of the ADI were to contend with those acting under the usurped authority of Chancellor Ainslie. The allegations that I broke into this building are inaccurate. I contend that I walked in through the front door, escorted by the Director himself."

  The prosecutor was on his feet in a heartbeat. "Using an illegal illusion spell, designed to imitate agents of the ADI—a serious charge in and of itself."

  A balding Councilman on the far left of the platform waved his hand. “Sit down, Mr. Prosecutor. You'll have your chance. Now, let Miss Chase finish so we can move on."

  The prosecutor slumped into his seat and folded his arms.

  Kasey continued. "It was an illusion that was cast not by myself, but by the director, not only to protect ourselves from harm but also to protect agents of the ADI acting under the wrongful influence of the Chancellor. It was Director Sanders’ greatest desire to preserve and protect the lives of his agents, irrespective of whose commands they were currently following. The illusion was a means for us to carry out our mission without causing undue harm to come to the Council or any of its agents."

  Arthur chortled. "For all the good it did. You landed dozens of agents in the Administorum and caused millions of dollars of damage to this facility. Damage that we have video footage of you committing. You also broke into the evidence lockup and tampered with evidence surrounding the Getz’s case."

  "That's a lie," Kasey said, clenching her fists. “We did enter the evidence lockup, that much is correct. But we both know the only piece of evidence we touched pertained to a scuffle that took place in St. Patrick’s Cathedral earlier that day."

  Arthur smiled triumphantly. "I wonder why you would have tampered with that particular evidence? Could it be that you and Director Sanders were behind the attack on my life in the cathedral? An attack that left an elderly priest unconscious. One that could have killed him? An innocent normal and a pillar of the community. We haven't even begun to draft charges for those actions, Miss Chase, but at your admission we can happily have them added to the docket."

  "I will not perjure myself,” Kasey said. “It was me in the church. The attack the Chancellor is asserting did in fact take place, but at no point in time was there any attempt against his life. The Chancellor himself was incapacitated. Had we harbored him any ill will, we could have killed him there and then. It was in fact the elderly priest we were concerned with. We worried that someone may have stolen his identity in order to attack the Chancellor. We believed it to be the same person who had perpetrated the murder of Theodore Getz. The attack was in fact an attempt to save the Chancellor's life. One for which we have never, ever been thanked."

  The courtroom’s gallery broke into frenzied murmurs.

  "The only danger I was in that day was from you and the director," Ainslie countered. “I'll not thank you for staging an elaborate ruse. And my comments regarding my dear friend, the Archbishop, stand."

  "Indeed, they might,” Kasey said, “but the attack you refer to utilized tear gas against a normal. I'm an agent of the New York Police Department. I was employing police resources in the furtherance of an ongoing investigation. Any issues the Archbishop has can be dealt with in the courts of the land. We have no need to waste the council’s time with these trivial side quests."

  Councilwoman Hoskins interjected. "While they may pale compared to some of the crimes of which you stand accused, be assured, Miss Chase, we consider them each a serious offense. The Council will not have its laws flaunted. While we've given you latitude to explain your bizarre and unbelievable plea, it rests with us to determine the merit of it. Having entered your plea, I hand the time over to the prosecution to make its case. Miss Chase, in the interests of time, I will instruct you not to interrupt the prosecutor's remarks. You will have ample opportunity to make your own case at the conclusion of his remarks, before any verdict is reached and any sentence is handed down. Do you understand me?"

  "I do, your honor." Kasey leaned back in her chair. "This ought to be good."

  The prosecutor stood, adjusted his suit, and rounded the table. Strutting back and forth before the council's lectern like a peacock, he addressed them. "Our venerable council. As Miss Chase has so rightly declared, the judgment for many of the actions she has committed hinge on the guilt or innocence of Noah Sanders. It seems difficult, if not impossible, to accurately decide her fate while the case against the Director remains incomplete. Now, I believ
e this is an elaborate ruse prepared by the defendant to forestall the hand of justice. We have on excellent authority that Miss Chase and Mr. Sanders conducted an unsanctioned raid of a criminal organization during which they made off with a substantial sum of money. With the millions they have illegally obtained, Mr. Sanders has not only his prodigious arcane talent but these immense resources at his disposal. He can ensure that he evades the authority of this council almost indefinitely. As we cannot conduct a case against one who is not, and may never be, present, I feel it necessary to raise the evidence against Mr. Sanders here, so that the members of the Council might view Miss Chase's actions in the proper light. That is, someone acting under the influence and directions of a murderer, not a vigilante hero as she has so eloquently asserted."

  Kasey bit her lip. With every fiber of her being, she wanted nothing more than to leap the table and punch him in his smug mouth. He was a gifted lawyer—she had to give him that—but if she'd been given five minutes alone in a room with him, she had no doubt there would be little left but a pile of broken bones.

  She took a deep breath to suppress her rising rage.

  The prosecutor walked back to his table, opened his case and pulled out a file. "I would present to the court exhibit A—a ballistics report taken from the slugs that ended poor Theodore Getz’s life. Ballistics on the weapon in question were a precise match to the service weapon of Noah Sanders. Sanders’ own gun was the instrument of Getz’s death, a weapon that was never reported missing and has not been seen since. Second, video evidence of Sanders entering the building, dragging an unconscious Mr. Getz in a wheelchair. It was in the basement of this very building in which Mr. Getz was found the next morning, having been brutally tortured and murdered. It is very well that Mr. Sanders is not here today. Frankly, the case against him is as watertight as a mermaid’s brassiere."