by Casey Lane
“Johanna Kozak attacked that night, killing everything in her path in an act of revenge she should never have lived to carry out. House Kozak was burned at the stake eleven years ago, as traitors to the Council. I saw it with my own eyes, to ensure the job was done. This girl disappeared just before the burning, to hone herself into a weapon, and come back and kill us all.” Anastasia’s voice rose, and she was only a breath away from declaring my death sentence herself when her grandfather put a hand on her lower back—a gentle reminder of his power, and that she would not be decreeing anything. The tension in the room turned volatile as she gave him the most saccharine smile I’d ever seen. She didn’t respect this man and his power; she envied it.
“Miss Kozak descended on the meeting, tore our servants limb from limb, and killed several of the Born. Any hope I had of forming a treaty to stop the killings is gone, because of this girl.” The black energy coming from her poured out so rapidly it was hard to tell the difference between woman and monster. Two obsidian eyes stared down at me, ready to kill.
“So, I ask you, Johanna Kozak, half-breed from the fallen House Kozak, where is the honour your House prided itself on so much that it turned against the Council and our wishes? Where is your honour?”
This trial had turned to interrogation faster than even I’d expected, but I had my answer, and they would hear it. “Honour wears different coats to different eyes, Council Member,” I said defiantly.
Her lips curved up in snake-like smile. “There is no honour in killing one’s own kind. You slit Jayma Balewa’s throat and let her drown in her blood.”
My head moved slowly from side to side. I’d expected a string of untruths, but this was unbearable. Jayma had died from her throat being cut, yes, but I hadn’t been the one wielding that blade.
The families shuffled in their seats, murmuring to one another as they listened to her half-thought out lies, only held together by a thread of darkness.
Surely, they don’t believe this?
Even taking her power into account, it was unfathomable that some of these families could stand to hear the rubbish spewing from her mouth.
I clamped my mouth shut, biting my lip so hard it bled.
Anastasia took her seat, eyes still fixed on me; she leaned slightly to listen to something her grandfather was saying, and her lips twitched into a malicious grin.
My stomach churned as Aldric stood and addressed me. “Miss Kozak, have you anything to add to Miss Fortescue’s statement?”
Really? What could I possibly say to refute those blasphemous claims?
I swallowed hard and opened my mouth then closed it again as I considered my response. I hadn’t killed Jayma. She had. But who would believe me? Who would dare to challenge her?
“Miss Kozak?” Aldric pressed. “If you do not respond, your guilt is implied.”
“With respect, sir,” I replied, trying to stop my voice wobbling, “my guilt is already presumed. Council Member Fortescue has given an inaccurate account because I did not kill my friend.”
Whispers broke out in the chamber room, and Anastasia wasn’t such a fool to think that no one would question her story. Narrowing her eyes maliciously, she slammed her open palm on the table before her and yelled, “Silence!”
Aldric shot her a furious, warning glare as the table split in two from the impact. She stared brazenly at him with an ambivalent expression, almost bored. I saw it, though, the hatred that burned in her veins. She didn’t have a scrap of love for the man she dotingly called grandfather—if anything, she was a snake in the grass. Silently, she settled back in her seat, quietly trying to worm her way into my mind. For all her wicked powers could accomplish, though; my soul was untouchable. The dragon had blessed me with something more valuable than gold or power. My mind was unreadable.
Returning his attention to me, his expression blank, Aldric said mildly, “Emotions are running high today. We shall dismiss at this point and hear the accused’s testimony tomorrow.”
There was a long pause, Aldric looking at me as I glared at Anastasia.
The Council chambers broke out into uneasy murmuring as Aldric nodded to the guard at my side. “Escort Miss Kozak back to her accommodations.”
A rough hand grabbed my arm, wrenching me from my seat. I could fight it. I could fight them all, but what was the point when they’d already made up their minds?
I was going to die, and Anastasia was going to put the last nail in my coffin.
Chapter Three
The chamber had lost some of its glamour when they dragged me back the next day. The light streaming through the arched windows did nothing to raise my spirits; the smell of the books and polished oak walls were not comforting. They marked the place where Anastasia had dug my grave.
“You expect us to believe that?” Aldric asked, after I recounted what had happened that night. “That my granddaughter, a respected member of the Council, was responsible for the death of that poor girl?”
Unwavering, I maintained eye contact. “It’s the truth. I’m happy to give you a full account.”
My words fell on deaf ears. The cowed people before me were unwilling to see the truth.
His eyes narrowed as Anastasia snorted. “You expect us to believe a half…sane criminal over a member of the Council?” he said, covering his very-near-slip with a humourless laugh. While they persecuted my people endlessly, they never said it in so many terms.
My brows rose at his faux pas. Careful, Council Member. Your true colours are showing…
“Why wouldn’t they? She killed any possible witnesses. She’s well connected, revered even, by some.” My eyes flicked to House Lis. The cowardly bastards kowtowed to the Fortescues, always bending over backwards. “More reason to think she could frame me,” I stated, almost belligerently.
“Do the honourable thing and admit your guilt,” Anastasia purred from her grandfather’s side.
“Honourable?” I scoffed, struggling to contain the rage building within me. “What do you understand of honour? Where is the honour in slaughtering thousands of mixed lineage families because there’s a slight possibility they may challenge your self-appointed rule? The unspoken war on my people is not honourable, Council Member. It’s genocide.”
I stared her down, challenging her. The inky black substance of her hatred billowed around her, invisible to the others, as always. I see you, though. I know what you are.
Barely controlling her fraying temper, she said with a vulpine grin, “We only ever dispatch those who are a threat to our society, Miss Kozak. People such as yourself.”
Fists clenched, jaw set, I growled through gritted teeth, “My family was not a threat.”
The smug smile on her face had me so enraged, I would’ve happily torn her head off there and then. It wasn’t the dragon’s way though. With a deep breath, I calmed the simmering rage and levelled my tone. “They were peaceful, honourable people, and you slaughtered them. Jayma was honourable, and you killed her. You are the ones who lack honour. You exploit your position, use your power to manipulate and kill those who question your methods. You are the threat, Anastasia Fortescue.”
“Silence,” Anastasia hissed, shaking with contained rage.
The families before me muttered between themselves.
Making sure she noticed the twitch of my lips, I took my seat and looked at Aldric. I held him in my stare, defying his self-imposed rule, hating what they were, what they represented. I made sure he saw it, because while the Fortescues may have been king here, both they and I knew that just as kings rise, they also fall. He wasn’t a fool, and, as outrageous as Anastasia’s outbursts were, neither was she. I may’ve been about to meet my end, but the rebellion would live on, and I would be a martyr. If they killed me, it would give legitimacy to the half-breed outcries of injustice. It would put to words that which they’d intentionally ignored for centuries, despite their crusade against my people. Against Jayma. Even in death, I would find justice for her. I had promised.
/>
Aldric tore his eyes from mine, looking at the blond Supe who twitched in his seat with disapproval. “Yes, Graeme?” Aldric asked, coolly.
Council Member Graeme shifted uncomfortably, and his bright blue gaze darted from Aldric to Anastasia then finally to me.
Don’t get your hopes up. They know better than to fight for you here. I dropped my gaze to the floor. Pretending to be unseen. Unheard.
Clearing his throat, he said, “All evidence must be examined.”
I snapped my head up, peering at Aldric through my eyelashes as murmurs of agreement followed his statement.
They’re speaking out…for me.
House Graeme had been part of the rebellion for years now, but minimised their involvement to keep the Fortescues off their back. While I stalked the streets and did the dirty work, the Graemes navigated much more treacherous territory on an everyday basis.
Aldric stiffened, a coldness entering his eyes as he looked at his challenger. “Indeed,” he said thoughtfully. Falsely. His cold eyes were taking in everything, and even the Council could see through his façade when he pretended to care what the others thought. He never gave a damn about anything except the throne he’d built from the bones of my people.
“No,” Anastasia snapped, “this is outrageous! A common criminal… Grandfather, no!”
Another voice rose above the murmurs. Female. “I fail to see how listening to two young women disagreeing serves to reach a sentence.”
That was House Berg, down to earth and steady as ever. They’d been with the rebellion even longer than I.
“The girl is entitled to a fair hearing,” another voice insisted. House Kearney, the newest family to be recruited. I’d won them over several months ago. The Irish were always an interesting lot, no matter the scene.
Anastasia was livid. “That girl,” she spat, “is a danger to us all. Hang her, and be done with it.”
The debate continued, her outburst ignored, as the families agreed and disagreed over my right to a fair trial. I kept my eyes firmly on Aldric, gauging his response. His dark, calculating eyes followed the debate that had taken over his Council chamber. He wasn’t listening for my sake; he was feeling out the traitors among them.
They need to tone it down or they’ll be caught. There’s no rebellion if everyone’s dead.
Anastasia was the first to speak out, assaulting them all with the authority behind her words. “Enough! This hearing is adjourned for today. We will continue tomorrow.”
Aldric gave a curt nod of agreement, turning his furious gaze on her as the guard hauled me from the rickety chair and pushed me out the door.
It was a relief to be back in my cell. The atmosphere in that chamber was aggressive, invasive, so much so that it still clung to my bloodstained shirt like a fog that wouldn’t lift. I worried for the others, knowing how big a risk they were taking in standing up for me.
Foolish. They’re going to get everyone killed. Underneath the chaffing and scolding, I knew why I worried. I don’t want another death on my hands, another Jayma.
I lay on the steel bench, staring at the ceiling for a while, replaying the events in the chamber over and over. To openly challenge a Fortescue! It was both brave and incredibly stupid. Why would they risk it all for me?
Footsteps along the corridor drew my attention briefly, and I wondered if they’d decided to reconvene. I didn’t bother to get up as the door creaked open, and didn’t look at the guard as he stepped inside.
“Thank you, Caleb. Lock the door.”
I almost toppled to the floor as I scrambled from the bench. “What are you doing here?” I whispered, rushing into his open arms.
“Visiting,” he said, smoothing a hand over the top of my head.
I pulled back, studying his face. “Oli, if you’re caught… Wait a minute now—how did you get in?”
“Oh, you know, a pretty face and favour from House Fortier…gets you everywhere.”
I smirked at his lopsided grin and nudged him with my shoulder as I returned to the bench and sat down.
“You shouldn’t be here. If they catch you…” I shook my head.
He sat beside me and placed a gentle arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. I’m… We’re all more worried about you. You’re here because of us. You took the fall for us.”
I sighed, choking back tears, and whispered, “Jayma…”
“I… Jo, there was nothing you could’ve done. She didn’t see it herself. Please, don’t…”
He was wrong. I wasn’t going to tell him that, though. The only thing worse than losing the person you love is knowing they saw it coming—and still chose to go. To leave you. I wasn’t going to put that burden on him.
“She died for me, Oli. Because of me.” I turned and buried my face in his shoulder. I focused on the how, not the why. She may have known it was coming, but I was still the one who’d lived to see the next sunrise. I should’ve killed Anastasia Fortescue when I had the chance.
He held me for a few moments, unsure how to proceed. For all his wit and charm, he’d always been hopeless with displays of affection. I’d softened over the last few years with Jayma. She was so touchy-feely, always linking our arms or rubbing my shoulder, it was becoming natural for me to seek the physical comfort of a welcoming embrace.
Tightening his arms, he said, “I loved her, Jo. Part of the reason I’m doing this was so we could be together without risking her life, without my family facing the shame of…the pain of losing their only son. She did all this so that we, and others, could live without fear of them and their retribution.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. “You didn’t do this. They did.”
Despite my grief, I smiled sadly at his unyielding loyalty to her, even after her death. Every risk, all the dangerous situations he’d placed himself in, it was all for her. For them. My best friends. His family loved Jayma. His parents would’ve supported them, but at the cost of their reputation and social standing. Without that, they couldn’t influence and monitor the Council. They couldn’t have kept him or Jayma safe. Not that I was sure how they could save him anyway, when word got out that he was here.
“When the time comes,” I said quietly, looking up, “I don’t want you there.”
“The time isn’t coming, Jo. I won’t lose you both,” he said firmly, his steel-blue eyes flashing with quiet rage. “They won’t take you from me too.”
I knew that look. Knew what his determined tone meant. “Oli, please…”
“It’s all in hand. Just do what you have to do here. I’ll handle everything else.” Movement outside, a light tap on the door, halted our conversation in its tracks. He offered me his best smile, his eyes shining as he kissed my forehead. “I’ll come back.”
Before I could say anything, he removed his arm and winked, striding out the door. I stared blankly at the space he’d left. My cell suddenly felt too big. Too sparse. The loneliness sank like a stone in my stomach as I settled, cross-legged, on the bench.
There was only one way into this place. Only one way out. If I walked out of here alive, it would be through that door, and that door alone. Oliver was good, and he was smart, but we both knew there was no way Anastasia would let me leave this cell unless it was for a march to the gallows.
Chapter Four
A sharp rapping startled me out of meditation. There was a clinking of metal against the door, the hinges complaining with a screech as it opened. I peered up at the golden half-breed before me, holding a plate of food in one hand and a washcloth in the other.
“Can I help you?” I asked flatly, too tired for another round of questioning. I’d had enough in the chamber the other day.
His eyebrows quirked up as he looked over me, a ghost of sadness in his eyes as the guards behind him pulled the door shut. Closing us both in. “My name is Alec. I brought you something to eat…” His voice trailed off at the stony look on my face.
“I gathered,” I said, pulling my legs back to my chest. I nodded
to the spot I’d just made, motioning for him to sit.
He looked down at me for a moment, assessing me. “You don’t seem too anxious, for a girl who’s on death row.”
I liked his honesty; it was refreshing in this den of vipers.
“Fortescue lackeys don’t come for friendly chats, bearing gifts,” I murmured, gesturing to the plate on his lap. “Yet here you are. What do you want?”
“Touché,” he said as he handed me the plate of food. Cold ham, hard bread, and a chunk of cheese. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the porridge they’d been passing off as food. The blond-haired man leaned back against the white walls, looking far too bright, even in this sterile room. His golden eyes glowed with an effervescence that reminded me so much of my Jayma that my heart ached.
“So, tell me, how are you doing it?” he asked suddenly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His face turned towards me, rapt with interest.
“Doing what?” I asked around a mouthful of bread. I knew full well what he was asking, but I wanted to make him say it. If he wanted information about me, he’d damn well work for it. Also…it was lonely down here. Any company was better than these four walls. Was that selfish? Knowing I was going to die and wanting a few minutes with another living being? I didn’t think so.
“Remaining calm. You’ve been here five days, you know.” He wanted to know how I wasn’t babbling to myself yet and clawing at my own eyes. Maybe they were just hoping they could wait me out, and I’d do the job for them. No. Anastasia was too spiteful for that. She craved the display of power over me, the glory of striking the final blow…or kicking the chair. Whichever.
