“What was the condition of the world when you arrived?”
“The Land of Youth was locked in time. The only people we saw—
soldiers; patrons; and their princess, Killian’s wife, Amadara—had
become wooden.”
“How long were you there?”
“Time was stalled, so I cannot say for certain, but it cannot have
been more than an hour. Our entrance into the world compromised the
hold on time.” The queen appears mildly displeased with my response, so I clarify. “Entering the Land of Youth was akin to walking across thin ice. Our presence disrupted the tear in time, which led to instability and, very quickly, the collapse of the world.”
“Did the prince try to stop this collapse?”
“No. In fact, he trapped my husband and me and left us there to
die while he left for the Land of the Living. We barely escaped.”
Murmurs break out in the crowd.
“Thank you, Miss Donovan. You may leave the circle.”
My brows turn down over my eyes. “That’s all? But I didn’t answer
any questions about my family.”
“Your testimony has been very helpful,” the queen replies. “We’ve
no more questions for you at this time. Please leave the circle.”
Markham wears a smirk, little but sharp, like a thorn in my insole.
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I address the justices. “Her Majesty said I would be given the chance to testify about my personal experiences with the prince.”
“And you have,” Imelda answers, her gaze darting to the council.
Every one of the magistrates dons a scowl of irritation or impatience.
“Everley,” Osric whispers, “you’ve done all you can.”
“I haven’t told the council what Markham did to my parents and
siblings,” I reply just as quietly. “This is why I’m here. This is why I’ve come all this way. I’ve waited for this trial since I was a child. I cannot step down, Osric.”
“Miss Donovan.” The councilwoman’s stern announcement of my
name booms through the theater. “The court orders you to leave the
witness circle this instant. We require no further testimony from you.
You are dismissed.”
The circle of birch-tree runes around me pulses a glow. I open my
mouth to speak, and an invisible tightness binds my tongue. My eyes
gape as I clutch my throat. I can breathe, but my voice is strangled.
Osric gently clutches my arm. “Now that the council has dismissed
you, the runes will prohibit you from speaking as long as you’re in the witness circle. You’re finished, Evie. I’m sorry, but your testimony is done.”
But I’m not done. Not anywhere close.
I try to compel my voice to come out, but the binding spell grows
tighter, choking me. I stumble out of the circle and gasp. My ability to breathe returns, but my tongue remains bound.
Markham stares ahead, his eyes laughing. Only after I cross the
stage back to Jamison does the binding leave my mouth. I lean forward and rub my aching throat.
“Evie, what happened?” Jamison asks.
“I don’t understand,” I rasp, my tongue thick and heavy. “Imelda
said the justices wanted to hear from me. I thought I would get to speak about what Markham did to my family.”
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Jamison speaks quietly, his voice lower in pitch than usual. “I knew she couldn’t be trusted.”
“Give her time,” Osric replies. “The queen is focusing on Killian’s
most significant offenses because she wants a quick conviction.”
“Are you saying the slaughter of Everley’s family is insignificant?”
Jamison asks.
“I’m saying be patient.”
Queen Imelda’s voice carries across the stage. “We will now hear
testimony from Jamison Callahan, who also hails from the Land of the Living.”
Jamison pulls upright and strides to the witness box. The birch-tree runes pulse a glow as he steps inside and faces the council.
The queen begins. “Jamison Callahan—”
“Lord Callahan.”
The audience whispers. A smirk tugs at my lips. He’s using his lord-
of-the-manor voice.
“Pardon me?” asks Imelda.
“I’m the marquess of Arundel, a nobleman in my world, and that
remarkable woman”—Jamison points at me—“is Lady Callahan, my
wife. The court shall address her as such.”
“The court has taken note of this correction,” the queen replies
dryly. “Lord Callahan, were you in attendance when Prince Killian trespassed into the Everwoods and entered the Land of Youth?”
“I was with the prince and Everley.” Jamison stares coolly at the
council of justices. “Everley’s older brother Tavis was also with us. Prince Killian murdered him before our eyes.”
Louder whispers sound in the audience.
“Lord Callahan!” snaps the councilwoman. “You must only answer
the question asked of you. Queen Imelda, control your witness.”
“My apologies, Your Honor.” Queen Imelda hurries her interroga-
tion along. “Lord Callahan, did the prince construct a tale known to humans as The Legend of Princess Amadara?”
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“Yes.”
“And did this elaborate fabrication conceal the prince’s true identity as an elf?”
“The tale did that and more. Prince Killian wore a glamour charm
to appear human so we would not suspect he wasn’t of our world.”
“I must remind you to answer the questions plainly,” Imelda replies.
“Or we will switch to yes-or-no replies. Is it true that you served under Prince Killian’s command while he was posing as a human sailor in your queen’s navy?”
“He was an admiral, but that wasn’t good enough for him. The
prince wanted more control, more access. He lied to earn our queen’s trust, and she appointed Killian—”
“Prince Killian to you,” interrupts the justice.
“He’s not my prince,” Jamison counters.
“That is true, Your Honors.” Queen Imelda looks to them for how
to address this statement.
The councilwoman purses her lips. “Proceed.”
“Lord Callahan, please explain the nature of Prince Killian’s assem-
bly into your queen’s royal navy.”
“My queen appointed Killian as governor over a penal colony
located on the cursed isle where the gates to the Everwoods are hidden.”
“Did you know the prince was an elf?” asks Queen Imelda.
“No one did. As I said, he was hidden by a glamour charm. He
wanted us to believe he was human so he could lie to us—and lie he
did. He persuaded Everley’s brother against her, against their father, who he murdered along with her mother and two siblings in a failed effort to steal the sword of Avelyn.”
Outrage erupts across the theater, momentarily drowning him out.
Markham dons his mask of martyrdom, a mixture of humility and
devastation.
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Jamison speaks louder, near to shouting. “Killian tried to murder
Everley too. She was just seven years old at the time of her family’s assas-sination. She has a clock heart now because of what he—”
“Lord Callahan is ordered to step down!” the lead councilwoman
bellows.
Jamison opens his mouth. His throat bobs as he tries to speak. The
noises in the crowd simmer down, the air fraught with tension.
Que
en Imelda’s face and neck are flushed. “This concludes the final
witness testimony,” she says. “Lord Callahan, you will step down.”
“Why is she doing this, Osric?” I demand. “Why won’t Imelda let
us speak?”
“I fear the queen is under instructions from the council. They may
have decided to hold Prince Killian accountable only for the offenses that adversely affect the Land of Promise or Avelyn as a whole. The
death of your family was terrible, but our justices will not condemn their prince over the death of a few humans.”
A wall of fury hits me. “You’re saying their deaths are
inconsequential.”
“I don’t think that.” Osric speaks quickly, his breath hot and his tone sharp. “I would never think that.”
“Your council does. I can tell by their sour expressions that they
don’t want us here. Jamison and I are nothing but servants to them,
helpmates to pick their fruit and clean their manors.”
“Evie, you must open your mind,” Osric pleads. “Proving that
Killian is responsible for the ruin of a world is our truest way of convicting him. Don’t let Imelda’s means of doing so blind you from what’s happening here. Killian’s punishment won’t just be for the Land of
Youth. He will pay for all the blood he’s shed.”
My family’s blood is just a drop in a very large bucket, lost in a sea of silence.
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Jamison returns to us and steps into the circle. The second he
regains control over his tongue, he speaks. “I’m sorry, Evie. I tried. I tried to tell them.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I say dully. The fault is mine. I naively
thought that today would be the day of Markham’s total reckoning.
The queen stands below the balcony of justices and quietly con-
verses with them. Her hands move wildly, her motions adamant. Imelda shakes her head, and the lead justice glowers, as though she has asked Imelda to do something and Imelda refused. Imelda’s shoulders slump, her arms go down, and she nods. The queen has lost whatever argument just ensued.
“The day isn’t over yet,” Osric utters, his tone dismal.
But Jamison and I were the final witnesses. No one else has come
to testify.
Queen Imelda returns to face the audience. She smooths down the
skirt of her black dress and squares her shoulders, her delicate chin held high. “The justices summon the accused to the witness circle. Prince Killian, please step forward.”
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Markham steps into the witness circle, the chains around his wrists
jangling. My clock heart ticks so violently each beat echoes across the open theater.
The prince’s shoulders curl forward, his chin lowered in false
humility. He’s chosen to play the victim of his sister’s cruelty and vin-dictiveness. According to the audience members’ pity-filled gazes and sympathetic frowns, they believe his act.
“Why does Killian get to speak?” Jamison demands. His voice car-
ries across the stage and out to the rest of the theater. “A world has been destroyed. The people of the Land of Youth have no voice. Why should he get one?”
Osric gestures for him to calm down. “The accused has the right to
speak. You must stay quiet or they’ll remove you from the stage.”
“Maybe I should let them,” Jamison says. “Then I wouldn’t have to
listen to whatever hogwash Killian is about to tell everyone. He hasn’t even spoken yet, and I can already tell they believe him more than us.”
All of the justices and countless members of the audience scowl at
Jamison. I slide my hand into his and glare back at them.
“We’ve come this far,” I say. “Let’s see it through.”
Jamison squeezes my hand, and together we stare out at the crowd.
“Prince Killian,” starts the head councilwoman. “I will be addressing you during this portion of the trial.” The justices must have determined
Emily R. King
Imelda is unfit to interrogate her brother or thought it inappropriate given their blood tie. The queen stands off to the side, ready to jump in if given the chance. “Your Majesty, the council is troubled by the witness testimonies that have been given about you this day. We have many questions for you.”
“I’ll do my best to clarify, Your Honors,” Markham replies.
“According to both humans’ testimonies, you located the gate to
the Everwoods on an isle in the Land of the Living. Is this true?”
“Yes, but I could not have done so without Everley Donovan’s help.
She guided our party and me to the gate.”
The justice sits taller. “The woman led you to the Everwoods?”
“I couldn’t find the way on my own. Miss Donovan, pardon me—
Lady Callahan—offered to assist me, and I accepted.”
“What’s he doing?” I whisper.
Jamison boosts his chin. “Deflecting.”
“What was your agreement with the human woman?” asks the
justice.
Markham bows his head in regret. “She was to guide me to the
Everwoods and into the Land of Youth. I warned her the world was
unstable, but she insisted we go, and I was desperate to see my wife, Amadara.”
I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches. That isn’t what happened
on the expedition. Markham blackmailed me into helping him, and
then, when we scaled the castle tower in the Land of Youth, he plunged my sword into Amadara’s chest and cut out her heart.
“You went into the Everwoods, where only the elect may enter?”
the councilwoman asks.
“All the portals leading into the Land of Youth were frozen, so
we had to pass through the Everwoods to enter the world,” explains
the prince. “My wife and every other creature in the Land of Youth
had turned to wood, just as Lady Callahan testified. Amadara herself was entombed in an elderwood tree. The castle was indefensible. The
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humans in my party preyed on the opportunity and stole coins from
the collection plate in the chapel.”
“That’s not true,” Jamison whispers hotly. “Why isn’t the witness
box binding his tongue? How is he able to lie?”
“He isn’t lying.” I shut my eyes, remembering our visit to the castle.
“Laverick and Claret pinched coins from the chapel, and candlesticks, I think.”
“That foul nidget,” Osric swears. “The runes don’t detect falsities
when they’re based on the truth.”
Markham knows he can exaggerate all he wants. He will edge up to
the line between truth and falsity, and his efforts are bearing fruit. The crowd is captivated. Their looks of sympathy nauseate me.
“Then what happened, Prince Killian?” prods the lead justice.
“I’m reticent to say, Your Honor.”
“You must answer the question, Your Majesty.”
Markham sends me an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry, Everley. I
know this must hurt you, but I owe my people the truth.” He puts on a fake brave front and speaks to the council again. “Lady Callahan’s older brother, Tavis, harvested the heartwood from my wife. When I tried to stop him from taking it, he fought against me. My blade was true, and he fell by the sword. Everley sought revenge against me, so I left her and Lord Callahan in the Land of Youth and escaped to prevent the
heartwood from falling into their hands.”
“Liar!” I yell. “Tavis harvested the heartwood to help you, and you
killed him!” I try t
o step out of the circle, but the protection runes knock me back.
“You see her fury?” Markham questions. “The woman will say any-
thing to take her revenge. She has pursued me and harassed me and
plotted against me for months.”
“You murdered my brother,” I growl.
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“Silence,” orders the councilwoman. “Lady Callahan, you may not
speak out of turn again, or we will be forced to remove you from the trial.”
Commander Asmer hustles over to me. “Everley, you need to be
quiet.”
“Markham is twisting the truth,” Jamison replies. “He killed her
brother.”
Asmer drops her voice to a whisper. “Killian wants them to believe
Everley is an impulsive, hotheaded woman. Her outbursts only give him credibility. Evie, do you understand?”
A large lump forms in my throat. I manage a nod, tears burning in
my eyes. The commander warns Osric to keep me under control and
then strides away.
“Your Honors,” Markham says, becoming bolder every minute, “I
suffered through this woman’s and man’s inaccurate testimonies without a word. Today they have shown you their bias against me. Emotions
clearly cloud their judgment and compromise their renditions of the
events in question.”
Heads bob in agreement across the audience. Even a councilmem-
ber or two let their facade of impartiality slip to nod along.
Queen Imelda goes to stand beneath the council’s box. “Your
Honors, the prince mustn’t be permitted to defame my witnesses. It’s only fair that I be allowed to redirect this line of questioning and regain the confidence of the court.”
The justices discuss this among themselves for a moment, and then
the head councilwoman grants her permission.
The queen marches over to the testimony box and starts in on her
witness. “Did you cause the destruction of the Land of Youth? Yes-or-no answers, please.”
Markham struggles to speak, fighting against the power of the
runes. “Nnnnnnnn—yes.”
Everyone in the hall hushes.
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“At the beginning of these proceedings, you uttered a plea of inno-
cence,” Imelda reminds him.
“If I may explain, I did indeed trespass through the Everwoods and
enter the Land of Youth, but I only wanted to find my wife. Everything I did, including lying to the humans and disguising myself, was to see her again. I thought I could wake her and break the curse, but once I saw her, I knew that could never be so. Had I the chance to do it over again, I wouldn’t have gone.” Markham’s eyes mist. “It was never my
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