by J. A. Comley
A deep drum roll welled up from behind the wall. Cursing, the Baron tossed Starla to the ground. Two sets of footsteps echoed from the front doors, followed by two identical curses. Starla watched through her tears as the Makhi the Baron had been speaking with healed the Baron's lip.
“Heal her, too. And erase,” the Baron spat, throwing Starla a murderous glare before disappearing through the side door.
Captain Trent pulled Starla to her feet, his fingers digging into her arms. She felt numb. She was barely aware of the pain disappearing from her lip, eye, neck, and wrists as the Makhi healed her. Roughly, the Captain positioned Starla before the hole in the ground again. The Makhi gripped her head tightly, murmuring spells. He cursed, then let her go and Starla sank back to the floor, not making an effort to understand his words as he spoke to the Captain.
It felt like hours in that numb place. Her brain felt fuzzy. She couldn't quite remember why she was afraid, why tears were leaking out of her eyes, or why she had blood on her hands. Still, the Baron's grey eyes loomed out of the haze, lustful and murderous, and empty. Mostly empty. As if what had given him life was no longer there. Slowly, Starla shook herself, drawing strength from Father Joe's lessons, from Raoul's admiration, from the High Lord's trust, even if that last was temporary.
Grabbing a fistful of her tunic, Starla wiped at her chin and neck. Crimson smears appeared on the grey fabric, matching her bonds. She stared at her arms for a minute. The scratches and bruises were gone. The Makhi must have healed everything. She struggled to her feet on shaking legs as the drum roll reached its peek.
Captain Trent was still behind her, pretending to guard her. Tears began stinging her eyes again. She swiped at them furiously. She feared her legs would give way if she tried to walk. The other, the Makhi, had vanished.
Suddenly the drum roll ceased. The wall before her parted and swung open. Starla fought for some semblance of composure. Breathing deeply, she stared at the chain connecting her to the floor, reciting constellations in her head.
The chain grew taut and began to move down a small niche carved into the floor. Starla looked up at the ceiling as she took the first step toward the court, hoping to drive the tears back. Above the doors, on an inner lintel hidden when they were closed, three words had been carved. Starla was surprised to discover that she could read them.
HALL OF JUSTICE
The drums began again. A different beat this time. A drum roll for the condemned.
Continuing to calm herself, Starla hoped that justice is what she would find as the chain dragged her forward and the drums rolled on.
Chapter 6
The Hall of Justice
“We can't just leave her there!” Lua protested as they landed in Beky's memorial glade.
“We need to wait. We need a plan,” Alli insisted, tossing her curls and watching Gaby pace like a caged animal.
“Wait? We can't wait! You all heard the Baron as clearly as I did. They are going to execute her!” Lua shouted. “She trusted us and—”
“Shut up,” Gaby hissed, stopping mid-stride.
Lua burst into tears. “She's our friend!”
“Shh! I thought I heard something.”
Gaby lifted herself a short way above them, vines holding her up.
“Sounds like wings,” Rya muttered absently, her voice empty, staring at nothing.
A second later, a brown blur shot overhead.
“Aimee!” Kal hooted, his tail wagging, a light jingling coming from the yellow bobble at its tip.
Aimee circled once and then landed, exhausted, on the ground. The Guardians and their companions formed a circle around her, all talking at once.
“Let her speak,” Heny's deep, rumbling voice broke through the babble.
“What happened, Aimee?” Gaby asked.
“Don't tell me that they've already—” Lua choked on fresh tears.
Aimee began to tell them of how Starla had sent her to find the Inagium Queen and how the guards had found Aimee there. Of her escape over the wall. Of flying all night trying to find the Guardians after she saw that the animals were no longer at Sunset Ridge.
“The worst part is that it was all for nothing. That house has been unused for months,” Aimee finished, her keen amber eyes on Gaby.
“What?” Gaby demanded, getting to her feet. “Are you sure? Did you go to the right house?”
“Of course. How many houses have a winged spiral etched into their roof under a great glass bird?”
“So, the rumours were true,” Rya said, voice still flat. “What does it matter anyway?”
“How can you say that?” Alli demanded. “We're supposed to protect the land, to help Astria find a way to end this war.”
“We're exiled. We can't stay and do any of that. We have no purpose.” She shook her head, dismay evident in her eyes. “All for nothing.”
“We only have no purpose if we give up,” Lua said, uncharacteristically firm.
Alli's eyes narrowed at Rya as Gaby nodded to herself.
“You all know what we have to do now,” Gaby said.
“You mean leave? If we leave, our connection to the Stones is weakened. If Kyron attacks—” Alli trailed off.
Rya's eyes brightened fractionally as Gaby's meaning took hold.
“Leave? But … Aimee, did you see Starla?” Lua asked.
Aimee started. Starla wasn't here. She was so exhausted that she hadn't even noticed.
“I assumed she was freed with you.”
“Gaby is right, Lua,” Rya said, rising. “I see no other option left to us. We need to rouse Ezira into action.”
“But wait, what about Starla?” Aimee spluttered.
“We can't help her. We weren't freed. We were exiled. We're no longer welcome on Galatia.” Anger filled every word.
“Will they exile Starla, too? Couldn't we wait a little longer for her?” Aimee pleaded.
“The Baron wants her executed.” Alli had to raise her voice to drown out Aimee's screech of despair. “But I do not believe that the High Court will stand for that. Not without evidence.” She picked up Kal.
“If she even gets to court,” Rya muttered.
Aimee looked frantically from face to face, searching for a glimmer of hope. She found none.
“I am going back,” she said, fluffing out her feathers and preparing for flight.
“No,” Gaby said, catching and holding her firmly. “You can't help her that way. No one there will be able to understand you. You will just be killed, too. If you want to help, then help us. We will need you with Mistress Ezira.”
“But, she's—” Aimee tried to wriggle free. “I won't leave her!”
“Listen, if you can help us convince Mistress Ezira of what Starla carries and how she got here, she will help us. Your memories of how you got here could be the only thing that will make Ezira help. It is the only way to save Starla should Galatian law fail.”
“Aimee,” Lua said softly, “they are right. A case with a potential death sentence usually takes several days or weeks even to begin because all evidence must be gathered, first. We have a little time. The shortest time before the trial and sentencing I've ever heard of was four days.”
“Ezira lives mostly as a recluse. She never sees anyone. But you, a creature from Earth, will be sure get her attention.”
“All right. Let's go.”
Rya began to walk in a wide circle, muttering spells as she went. A thin sliver of white light trailed her footsteps, enclosing the circle.
“Wait. What if they don't … you know. What if they choose to exile Starla, instead,” Aimee asked, clinging to any small hope that she would see Starla again.
“I've already thought of that,” Gaby said, stepping out of the circle.
“You're staying.” Rya's voice had a little emotion back, now that they were actually doing something.
“Someone has to.”
“Gaby, be careful.”
Litzie clung to Rya's shoulder, noddin
g in agreement.
Gaby nodded.
“Lua, may I ask that Biki remains behind with Flek, Heny and me? Her ability to turn invisible may prove useful.”
Lua hugged Biki close, then swapped her for Aimee.
“Be safe.”
Gaby simply nodded and cast the final part of the spell. She watched her friends within the circle vanish. Looking up, she saw the light of the afternoon sun crest the trees on its journey south. Day one.
***
Starla put one trembling foot in front of the other for the last time. The walk seemed to have taken hours through the sea of staring faces. Some of those faces jumped out at her for their strangeness. In one place stood a cluster of snow-skinned people with cat-like ears that seemed to twitch in agitation and alert, pale eyes. A man in the back row had golden skin and was playing absently with a lump of metal, its shape changing as he waggled his fingers. A few others had eyes of vivid yellow or orange, their slit pupils following her every move. The rest were a blur. Giant, dark-wood doors stood behind the stand on which they sat. The main entrance, she guessed.
Before her was the High Stand, its gilded High Chairs sparkling in the early afternoon sun shining through the glass roof. Starla quickly lowered her eyes. The Baron would be up there somewhere. She didn't think she had the strength to remain standing if she saw him, though she didn't quite know why.
To her left and right ran semicircles of redwood stands filled with people who were all murmuring softly. By their clothes, these were mostly minor nobles and Makhi. Ahead, and slightly to each side, stood two low platforms, each with a single step leading up to them and both within a huge circle of stars that had been carved into the floor. Rising out of the floor directly in front of her was the crossed sword and staff, piercing the heart of a carved flower at the centre of the star-rimmed circle. This close, the flower's petals looked almost like wings.
The same Makhi who had bound her outside stepped forward from one of the side stands. Waving her staff, the chain connecting Starla's cuffs to the floor lifted up and wrapped itself around the sword and staff. Starla stopped at the edge of the circle of seven stars carved into the ground.
“You, the accused, have been brought before this Hall for judgement.” The High Commander's clear voice echoed in the oval room. “Enter the circle and be judged,” she intoned ominously, waving her forwards.
Obediently, Starla stepped into the ring of stars and the drum roll ceased. Her length of chain grew shorter, drawing her in until she was just a pace away from the crossed sword and staff. They reached as high as her shoulders but still gave her a clear view of the bench ahead.
Starla limited her trembling to her hands as she glanced to the side stands. They were full. Minor nobles, Makhi, richer merchants, all watching her intently. The cat-eared people were whispering to each other. Her eyes froze as she noticed a small group of civilians and minor guards slightly separated from the rest. The witnesses.
Come on, breathe! She could feel the traitorous tears welling in her eyes again, the panic squeezing her chest.
“Bow to your Lords and Masters,” the Commander instructed, following the protocol.
Her voice sounded a little odd. Without looking up, Starla automatically began to curtsy, then, realising her error, corrected herself and, in the same movement, bowed awkwardly to the High Stand. She then turned to make less-deep bows to the side stands.
There was a rustling of cloth from in front of her.
“All rise and bow before your King and Prince,” the High Commander ordered, suiting her own words.
All remained bowed until the King and Prince had retaken their seats.
Starla noticed the High Commander glance at her again and managed to push her remaining tears away. She kept her eyes down. She still wasn't certain that she could face the Baron and his penetrating grey eyes.
In the corner of her eye, she saw the same page boy from the dungeons step forward, a scroll in his hands. He unfurled it and began to read solemnly, “This trial, held in the Hall of Justice, shall be ruled over in final judgement by King Eldos Hypaeon of Galatia. Assisting in the sorting and presenting of evidence shall be Prince Niden Hypaeon-Paleon of Galatia and the King's advisors, Larkel Dios, High Lord of the Makhi Order of Trianon and Baron Braxton Malion. Leading the proceedings shall be High Commander Medara D'Ordeley of Galatia's army. All present will take a general vote at the end of the trial for the King's consideration before final judgement is passed.” The page bowed and moved off.
Starla flinched as a raspy voice crept through the Hall.
“I, Baron Braxton Malion, shall read the charges,” he said, sounding almost bored. “They are as follows: The accused, aware of the illegality of her actions, did knowingly plot with and aid magical creatures to enter the city; the accused lied to and blackmailed an officer of the Citizen Guard to enter the city undetected; furthermore, the accused assisted said magical creatures in cutting power to the Sacred Stones in an attempt to enter the Imperial Circle and reach our most beloved Queen's residence, in a possible assassination attempt.” Gasps of horror from the side stands made Starla want to scream. “The loss of our Shield also coincided with several Corruption attacks, which will also be attributed to the accused by extension. The final charge, therefore, is for high treason, the penalty for which is death by execution at sunset on the day of judgement,” he concluded, voice smug and sure, as if the King had already condemned Starla.
Starla felt her inner fire roaring brighter. She clung to it, drawing strength. Yet shame rose up in her, too. Unfortunately for her, much of what he had said was true. But not the last. Breathing deeply, she resisted a shudder. She could feel his eyes on her as he resumed his seat. Soon it would be her turn to speak. She felt herself strengthening, getting under control. She looked up and felt a pang of regret. She had hoped that the Queen would be present. No such luck. The gilded chair to the King's right remained empty. Before anyone could notice her looking for the Queen, she lowered her eyes to where the High Commander stood before the High Stand. She seemed … relieved. Odd.
The High Lord, resplendent in his white robe, his silver belt of stars glistening, stood and bowed to the King, his hair held back by his silver circlet of office.
“I, Larkel Dios, with my King's permission, shall swear the accused to her oath.”
Starla looked up to him as he spoke. He sounded stiff, like he was holding back anger. The King nodded assent and the High Lord raised his right hand and indicated that Starla mimic him. In his left, the stones on his staff began to glow faintly. As soon as her hand was raised, a beam of silver light flowed from his hand and connected with hers, making her feel like she had just plunged it in to ice. Slowly, she became aware of his presence again, but it seemed more distant than it had in the dungeons. However, unlike in the dungeons, the Hall did not begin to fade away. She stood aware of him and everything around her.
“This is a Verelios Beam,” he began in his strong voice. “Once you have sworn your oath, it will shroud your hand. If, at any point during the proceedings, you say something that you know to be untrue, its light will burn red. Do you understand?”
“Yes, High Lord,” Starla said, her voice sounding small in the cavernous hall.
“Then I shall swear you to your oath. State you true name.”
“Starla Marvou,” she said, automatically, just as the memory of her last night on Earth made a lie of the statement. She saw herself standing in the kitchen, asking if the Marvous had been her birth parents. She heard again Father Joe utter the 'no' that had changed everything.
Instantly the beam connecting them turned a brilliant red. Starla winced.
“A lie! She lies to this Hall already!” boomed the Baron, practically jumping to his feet. “Clearly she is making a mockery of this court!”
A scandalized babble filled the Hall as those in the side stands began to whisper, watching the beam fade slowly back to silver.
Starla felt the bile rise i
n her throat, staring at the Baron's back as he turned to the King. She opened her mouth to protest when she felt the High Lord briefly probe the memory of Father Joe saying that the Marvous were not her birth parents. As Father Joe left the kitchen in her memory, the High Lord released it, then spoke for her.
“My Lords and Ladies,” his deep voice intoned, commanding attention, silencing the room instantly, “I have seen the reason for this 'lie'. She is not dishonest, she merely does not know the answer, herself. She is an orphan. The name she gave is that of her adoptive parents. I asked for her true name. She doesn't know it.”
The Baron made a disgusted sound but sat as the King nodded then motioned for Larkel to proceed with the swearing in.
“Starla, do you swear to be truthful to this Hall in answering all questions put to you during this trial?”
“I swear,” Starla said, happy that her voice sounded stronger.
“Then to that promise I bind you,” the High Lord finished, the beam disconnecting from his hand and wrapping itself around Starla's.
Larkel looked down at Starla as he took his seat. That memory had been full of a deep pain. He had read as little of it as possible, not wanting to pry. She had stopped trembling, now. She looked ready to fight her case. Good.
But why had she been in such a state when she'd entered? Subtly, he increased the power of the Verelios Beam.
An elderly Makhi in the side stand nearest looked up, quirking an eyebrow at the High Lord, his cat ears twitching. Thankfully, he said nothing. Larkel hoped any Makhi who had noted the increase in power would chalk it up to his simply perfecting the beam.
Starla was watching the Commander ordering her papers as the page began to list the order in which the witnesses were to be called. He carefully increased his presence within her mind. He waited, sure she would find him as she had before. He fought to keep his face smooth as she appeared.
