by Gail Dayton
"May I ask?” Kallista edged nearer to Nur, speaking without looking at him. “Why did you leave the temple?"
"Do you know what it is to have magic and not use it?” He replied in the same manner. “It seemed to us better to use the magic in constructive ways, ways that would help others, rather than simply—venting the pressure. When the temple walls fell—"
"Ah.” Kallista nodded. “I understand.” Then she straightened as the wide double doors opened. She'd have to ask later about the temple walls.
"What is the meaning of this?” The woman who had spoken for the presiding justiciars at the court arena stood in the open doorway, as if she would bar it with her body.
"I bring my response to your communication of this morning.” Kallista inclined her head in a slight bow. “Since you claim that you received no weapon to support my complaint of tampering with justice by means of drugs in the arena, I have asked Nur im-Nathain to bring another."
Behind the speaker, Kallista saw shadowy forms gathering in the dimmer light of the buiding's entry hall, at least one of them white-haired. With luck, that might be the head justiciar from the trial. Maathin, Obed had called her.
"I have had possession of this blade since the trial.” Nur stepped forward. Lifting the sword in his hands, he pulled an inch or so of steel from its sheath. “It was taken by our own healer nathain from one of the Habadra champions after he fell in the Varyl-Habadra trial. It has not been touched since it came into her possession in the infirmary."
The speaker-for-the-justiciars held out her hand, her face a blank mask. “I will take this weapon for consideration."
Nur lifted it just out of her reach. “As you took the last weapon out of my hands?"
The woman's blank mask cracked and fear showed through. “I—yes. That is—"
Maathin pushed her way through the door. “Did you receive an earlier sword, speaker? I thought you said you did not."
"I—I may have been confused—my memory—when the sword wasn't with the complaint, naturally I assumed I hadn't got it, and I—"
The white-haired woman cut her off with a brusque wave of her hand and gave Nur Truthsayer a questioning look.
"Not truth.” His mouth twisted a bit.
"Did you receive the sword with the Varyl complaint?” Maathin's voice cut as sharp as the steel.
"Erm—I—” The speaker turned her eyes all round, as if looking for escape. “I suppose I may have, yes."
"Truth,” Nur said.
"Where is it now?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
"Truth.” Nur sounded surprised.
Kallista wasn't. She knew how literal truth could hide lies. “May I ask a question?” She bowed a bit deeper to the head justiciar. Maathin frowned, but nodded.
"What did you do with the sword when it was given to you?” Kallista asked.
"Why, nothing."
Nur opened his mouth, but Kallista waved him to silence. “You didn't bring it inside and place it with the complaint?"
"Oh. Well, yes, of course I did.” The worry began to leave the speaker's face.
"Truth.” Nur's expression had soured.
"And then what did you do?” Kallista continued.
"Nothing."
Kallista wanted to smack the smug expression from the woman's face. “Nothing at all?"
"I listed it on the register of complaints and informed the Head.” She bowed to the white-haired justiciar.
"Whom you told that no sword had come with it."
"Yes.” The speaker blinked, realizing what she'd said. “No! That is, I'm sure I said nothing about the sword at all."
"Lie.” Now Nur was looking smug. Funny how it didn't make Kallista want to smack him.
"Speaker." The snap in Maathin's voice made the younger woman jump. “What did you do with the sword?"
"Noth—” She slanted her eyes at Nur and didn't bother finishing the word, falling into sullen silence.
"Tell me."
The speaker cringed. “I hid it behind the file shelves and sent word to Habadra, who sent someone to collect it. I truly do not know where it is now,” she cried in desperation, then sank back into sullenness. “Who knew these Adarans had another?"
"The healer collected five of them,” Kallista said.
"Why?" Maathin's voice held anguish. “Why would you subvert our justice like this?"
The speaker flinched, tucking her hands in the folds of her robe. “They have no respect for justice. You saw how she behaved after the first day of trial. They are a race of slaves!"
Even Maathin recoiled at that, but Nur shook his head. “That is not all the truth. It is very little of it.” He pointed at her hands. “What are you hiding there?"
The speaker glared at him, defiant.
Maathin put out her hand, palm up. “Show me. Now."
Reluctantly, the younger woman brought out her hands from the folds of her white robe. Rings adorned four of her ten fingers, gold rings with glittering stones.
"How much did the Habadra pay you?” Kallista asked quietly.
The speaker turned her defiant glare on Kallista, refusing to answer.
"Whatever it was,” the head justiciar said, “it was not enough.” Maathin snapped her fingers at the Justice Chamber champions and indicated her be-ringed junior. “Take her away. And bring me paper and ink. I am writing out a warrant for the arrest of Habadra Chani for perversion of justice."
Kallista bowed and backed away, satisfied at achieving her goal. She was still curious though, and watched as Maathin turned to Nur.
"It seems we owe you thanks again, Truthsayer,” she said. “Shall I appoint you justiciar?"
The young nathain bowed deeply. “That is not my role, madame. I do not judge, only speak truth."
"Perhaps truthsayer is a new position for Daryathi justice.” Obed startled everyone when he spoke. “Edabi held a trial not long ago with a truthsayer. I am sure they would be willing to share their experience. Especially since Edabi Skola will no longer be providing champions for the trial arena, and I am sure the other skolas will soon follow their lead."
"Nine-marked.” Maathin gave Obed a deep bow—deeper than the one she'd given Kallista. “We will consider your words."
She turned aside to write on the portable desk held by a junior apprentice. When the ink was dry, she rolled the paper, sealed it and handed it to a six-marked justice champion.
"Thank you, Aila.” Kallista bowed again as Nur gave custody of the second sword into the head justiciar's hands. “You give me hope for Daryathi justice."
Maathin's mouth twisted. “I do not like change. Our ways have worked—perhaps not well, but they have worked for a hundred years. Still, if there is a better way..."
Kallista's smile flickered into being. “Exactly. Now, if you will excuse us—"
The head justiciar held up an imperious hand. “Do not interfere with this arrest."
Kallista feigned shock. “I wouldn't dream of it. But—if there's trouble your people can't handle, we can help.” She gave the old woman a bland smile. “Surely you cannot refuse that."
"Do not interfere,” Maathin repeated, and with a brusque bow, disappeared inside chambers.
"So.” Kallista returned to her godmarked. “At last, we ride against Habadra."
"You heard what the justiciar said,” Allanda warned. “Do not interfere."
"I heard.” Kallista swung onto her horse. “Three times now. And we won't. I promise. Unless."
"There's always an ‘unless',” Torchay said, not helpfully.
"The justiciar's champions can't handle a demon.” Kallista led the way back into the street.
"What? Demons?” Allanda scrambled to follow.
"You think Chani harbors the demon?” Obed asked.
"She's one of the few I haven't dared search.” Kallista waited to let the escort form around her.
She glanced at Padrey, who sat awkwardly on his horse next to her. He obviously hadn't ridden this muc
h since childhood, if ever. Kallista eased a bit closer. “How are you bearing up?"
He flashed her an ill-at-ease smile. “Fairish. I don't like being in the front of things. It's bad for a thief to be noticed. Or a spy.” He paused for another, cockier smile. “But I like hearing everything first hand. I like knowing."
Kallista laughed. “That's my spy.” She urged her horse ahead as they started toward Habadra House. “Tell me—what do you know about Habadra's slaves?"
Padrey's smile vanished. “She has more than fifty, at least half of them too young for magic—maybe more than half. Of the adults, three of the women and one man have magic—all south. Two bakers, a weaver and a brewer. She bought two of ‘em, from smaller Lines. Poorer ones."
"Ah. How are they treated?"
Padrey shrugged. “They're slaves. They're fed, kept alive, but—"
Kallista felt the sadness and anger through his link and sent love and promises back. Then she changed the subject a bit. “Where are they kept?"
"In the back. Behind the kitchens. There's a big room—"
By the time they reached Habadra House, Kallista knew everything Padrey did about Habadra's slaves.
The Adarans hung back, across the broad square fronting the house, as the champions approached and demanded entry.
"Joh? Ride close and watch for me.” Kallista sent him off with his escort. Dressed today in working clothes as they all were, he wouldn't be as easily noticed as Kallista, and she could watch through his eyes.
What would Chani do? How would she react to this outrage? And no question, she would consider it an outrage. What if she truly was—as Kallista had come to suspect—demon-ridden?
Kallista held her hand out to Padrey and sidled her horse closer to his. “Come, sit behind me."
"Why?” His look wasn't quite suspicious.
"Because I still have to touch you to reach your magic.” She beckoned to hurry him. “If I have to call it quickly, I want to be ready."
He slid from his saddle onto Kallista's horse. He almost fell before settling behind her, his arms round her waist.
"One hand here.” She moved his hand from her waist to rest on the bare nape of her neck beneath her queue. Over her mark. It tingled just a bit, as if the mark recognized him. “Skin to skin, remember? This way, my hands are free. Just don't let go."
"I won't.” He leaned into her, breathed warm on her neck. “Seems a strange way to go into a fight, though."
Kallista had to smile. “It is. But it works. We've done it before, when Joh was new. Don't let me fall off the horse."
"Are you likely to?” Padrey sounded a bit alarmed.
"Not if you hold on tight.” Kallista squeezed the hand still at her waist. “Poor Padrey, so many strange things. I can see through Joh's eyes. But while I'm watching, I tend not to pay attention to what I'm doing. I've been known to fall off perfectly still chairs. And since this horse isn't still..."
"Right.” His grip tightened.
"Hold on.” Kallista slid down her link with Joh and blinked her vision into alignment with his.
Joh stood just outside the outer gate, at an angle where he could see the inner gate without being easily seen himself. He'd dismounted and his infantry dun tunic blended nicely with the local shades of dirt. His guard, in red-and-white-trimmed black, was a deal more noticeable.
Through Joh's eyes, Kallista watched the justiciar's champions wait while Habadra Chani was summoned from within the house. As they did, the outer courtyard filled with more and more champions wearing Habadra's purple cranes painted and embroidered on their kilts, until those in justiciar's black-and-white could barely be seen.
I don't like this, Kallista whispered through Joh's thoughts. Aloud, she said, “We need to move closer."
The six justice champions were beginning to look a trifle concerned about the situation as well. Kallista brought her people to stand behind Joh and pulled back into her own vision. She called magic and sent it questing out for fresh demonstink, then called more, piling it up to be ready, in case.
Finally, Habadra Chani sauntered through the inner gate into the outer courtyard of her Line's House.
The six-marked champion in charge of the justiciar's company handed the scroll to Chani who cracked it open and read it. The champion with tattooed hands and feet nodded at his underlings. Two of them moved to take the Habadra by the arms.
The sound of a double score of blades clearing sheaths hissed through the courtyard, but the justiciars held firm. Chani wadded up the warrant and let it fall to the paving.
"I am Head of Habadra Line,” she said. “I do not submit to arrest.” She shook off those holding her and this time, they allowed it. Naked steel had that effect, even on the bravest.
"Do you defy Daryathi law?” the six-marked asked.
"I see armed Adarans at my gate.” Chani sneered at Kallista, waiting in the street. “Is that Daryathi law?"
"This is Daryathi law.” The champion pointed at the warrant crumpled on the ground.
"No, I am Daryathi law,” Chani retorted. “I am Head of Line, of the richest, most powerful line in all Daryath, and I do not submit to the accusations of foreign upstarts."
Kallista had listened to enough. She didn't take offense at Chani's sneering words. Kallista was foreign, and she wasn't from a prominent family, which she assumed made her an upstart. How could she take offense at truth? But she'd never had much patience, and she was tired of listening to them argue.
She siphoned off a good-sized chunk of magic and shaped it to hunt. She gave it a nice sharp spear point, and she hurled it at Chani. She hurled it, and the magic flew.
It didn't ooze or dribble or trudge, it flew fast and hard and straight and true, and it slammed into Chani, cutting off both speech and breath.
Time seemed to freeze as everyone went still, most not understanding what had happened to the Habadra. The rest waited to see what the magic would find.
Chani screamed, the sound slashing through the air to shatter the stillness. “Kill them,” she raged. “Kill them all!"
Her champions attacked the justice company, cutting half of them down before they could draw weapons.
"Help them!” Kallista cried.
At the same moment, Chani shouted, “No, them—the Adarans. All the Adarans! Start with the slaves."
A party of purple-clad champions split off to dash back into the house. Kallista snatched magic and dropped them, sent them to sleep. She called more and put the rest of them down—all but Chani and the justice champions.
Kallista had intended to leave the justiciar's people awake, but Chani should have gone down with the rest. Kallista scrabbled for her hunter-spell and pulled back a stub.
The demon boiled up out of Chani—Khoriseth who had hidden from Kallista six years ago inside Serysta Reinine's High Steward. Now it had hidden inside Chani during Kallista's searching, Khoriseth, who had quenched her magic in Arikon before Leyja's marking as their then-ninth had enabled Kallista to drive it off, if not destroy it.
Kallista grabbed for magic. She wrenched it from her iliasti and still could not demand more than was poured into her. Kallista threw up shields, creating a pen around the demon. It shrieked on a plane not audible to human ears. But the horses heard it, or sensed it, for they panicked.
Padrey shouted as the horse he shared with Kallista went up in the air. He tried to hold on, Kallista tried to hold him, but she didn't dare let go the reins. He fell, hard, the impact shuddering through Kallista still in the saddle. The horse crow-hopped away from him. But the magic didn't break.
She still had hold of that joyous eagerness he brought to the whole. Had the link formed so quickly? How? Did it matter? She slid from the saddle, unable to concentrate on the magic and fight the frightened animal at the same time. Her shields began to buckle under the demon's violent attack.
"Is that a—?” Padrey's horrified whisper reached her as he caught her hand.
"Yes.” She didn't have time now
to explain about the link forming, so she let him hold on while she called more magic to shore up the weakening shields. One more order to give before she could forget everything but destroying this demon.
"Send a company to the slave quarters,” she said to whoever was nearest. “Get all the Adarans out and back to the embassy."
"Yes, my Reinine.” Joh answered, gave the order.
Half the escort broke off and trotted on foot through Habadra's gate. Kallista still stood outside in the street, she realized. No matter. She was fighting Khoriseth, not Chani.
Gathering her strength, Kallista wrapped magic around the shields she'd built and began to squeeze, compressing the demon trapped within. It squalled, eating away at the shields like acid on glass, tearing at them with a thousand new-grown demon claws. But the shields had been shaped only to keep it inside. The new magic surrounding the shields was made to destroy.
The demon broke through the shields and shrieked as the magic attacked it, dissolving it from the outside in. It fought, punching at the magic that enveloped it. Kallista wrapped hands in the links to her mates and hauled out still more.
It was working. Khoriseth could quench some of the magic, but it could not stop all of it at once. Kallista laughed out loud. She was winning.
The demon lunged at a corner of the trap she'd caught it in. The magic gave, bulged out. Before Kallista could slap a patch over the weakness, the demon burst through and escaped.
It skipped across the sleeping champions and flowed through the walls to take up residence on the shoulders of a well-dressed woman in a sedan chair, then left her for a man on horseback, and him for a racing youth.
"Follow!” Kallista cried. “We have to follow it.” She looked frantically for her horse. Surely someone had caught the reins. “Where's Gweric?"
"At the embassy.” Torchay had the horse. “Watching for attack against the children."
