“Nothing in words. Nothing explicit. But enough to make the accusation and force him to respond.”
“You’re sure.”
“I can show you.”
She didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know Gene could do such a thing. Just the idea made her queasy. Swallowing hard, she tried to steady her breathing. If Gene had betrayed their people and the Mundanes, persecuted Griffin to cover his own tracks, he had to pay for that.
Besides, the man she loved was asking for her trust. Val took a deep breath and turned to take his hands.
Full of love and regret, his mind touched hers. Then she was with him in the chair, waiting for Gene and Larkin to destroy him. She felt the crushing pressure on his mind, the constriction of his chest.
The love for her that had sustained him and now brought tears to her eyes.
I’m no traitor, he flung at his tormentors. A councilor is.
From Gene, Bullshit. Then that flash of fear and guilt, the image of the meeting, then Don’t let him con you.
Heartbroken and fighting tears, she leaned into Griffin’s shoulder. How could Gene have betrayed their people? Sent her to what might have been her death? He’d been the only father she’d known since the age of fifteen.
But her father would never have betrayed her. Or tried to have the man she loved executed for crimes he hadn’t committed.
Griffin’s arms closed tightly around her, offering refuge. His love for her and his grief over giving her this news brushed her mind in their bond. She held on to the solid, sheltering strength of his body and the steady warmth of his love, gathering herself, for a long moment.
Then she raised her head and kissed him. “Let’s go,” she said. “There’s a reckoning long overdue here.”
Griff kept a tight grip on Valeria’s hand as the deputies escorted them to the assembly room. Thank God, she’d believed him, but it had cost her. That bright smile hid a heart ripped with disillusionment and loss. A reckoning was indeed due, for the way Blake had used her in addition to everything else.
When they rounded the last corner, a clump of people from Wayfarer stood with Caro and Hettie by the assembly room doors—Marc, Cindy and Molly, Sally from the Crystal Grotto, Todd and his sister Robin, Missy from the bakery. Sam Peters, a couple of the other farmers. Ben Hayes, the scruffy young publisher of the weekly Wayfarer Oracle. The mayor, Elijah Kimball, his dark, wrinkled face alight with interest. Stocky, graying Sheriff Burton, who ran the softball league in his minimal spare time. A handful of people Griff barely knew.
They were far more than he’d expected, and his throat closed. His eyes stung. Blinking, he set his jaw and swallowed hard. He couldn’t believe so many of them cared enough about him to go to all this trouble.
Only Ben knew the truth. Valeria had needed him for her media push yesterday, but he’d sworn to keep the secret. The rest thought Griff was up for a seat on the board of the Georgia Institute for Paranormal Research, much lower stakes than he truly faced, but they’d come anyway.
Look at that, Valeria sent to him, all these people are here because they care about you.
He squeezed her hand but didn’t reply. He couldn’t trust his voice yet.
The squad of guards stepped back.
Griff nodded to his friends. “Hey, y’all.” At least he sounded normal even though his throat still felt tight.
Little Molly beamed at him.
Hitching up the unaccustomed suit trousers, he crouched to flick his thumb over her chin. “Hey, punkin’.”
“Hey, Gray.” She threw her arms around his neck for a quick squeeze that made him smile. Preening, she fluffed out her frilly pink skirt. “I got a new dress.”
“A gorgeous dress. You look like a princess.”
She twinkled in a way that promised trouble down the road for boys of her generation. “Todd’s gonna be my prince.”
Rising, Griff glanced at the gangly youth beside Cindy, Molly’s mom. The boy showed no after-effects of his encounter with the demon hosts.
Griff directed a level look at him. “Okay, Todd?”
“Yeah.” Todd gave him a solemn nod. “Thanks, Gray.”
“My pleasure.” They exchanged fist bumps.
“I’m here because you take time with the little kids—drawing, baseball, hoops, stuff like that.” Robin’s brown ponytail swung as she gave an emphatic nod. “It matters.”
“I think so. Thanks, Robin.”
Todd gave him a fierce look. “I’ll tell ’em what you did for me, how you saved us. Tell ’em all about it.”
If mage secrecy had to be blown with any group of Mundanes, the people in Wayfarer were probably the safest choice. Their laid-back attitudes and New Age interests made them more open to such prospects than most other Mundanes.
“Molly wanted to come.” Cindy stroked her daughter’s hair. “We all did. But they said we had to wait out here.”
Griff smiled down at Molly. “The first part’s just for members of this group.” Mundane ears shouldn’t hear a debate about magical murder. “I can’t thank you all enough for being here. It means a lot, regardless of how this turns out.”
Marc stepped out of the knot of people. “We have your back. This is going to work out. I have faith.”
“Me, too.” Valeria slid her hand into the crook of Griff’s arm. “We should go in.”
He nodded to the group. “Thanks, everybody, for coming.” He could feel their good will like a shield as he walked away.
The reeves stopped at the door. With his family and Hettie following, Griff and Valeria walked into the grotto and down the stairs. They took their seats at one of the two malachite tables flanking the obsidian chair.
Adrenaline hummed in his veins. His life was still on the line. No matter how things came out, though, the full assembly would have to listen to him, listen and know he spoke the truth. Whether they accepted it or not.
Judging by the hard looks people were directing at them, he had a big hill to climb. His fellow mages didn’t look very forgiving, and what would that mean for Valeria when this was over? He’d done his best to convince her not to stick so close, but she had her own ideas. As usual.
“I’m proud to be with you,” she murmured, “and I want everyone to know we’re together.”
Did she know what a high price she was paying for that? He couldn’t let her be an outcast, not for him. Not when the Collegium had been such a big part of her life.
His father and Hettie took the chairs flanking Griff and Valeria, with Caro and his mom sitting behind them.
Griff glanced sideways at Valeria. The sleek, royal-blue suit highlighted her trim curves, and lust punched him in the gut. He ached to take her to bed again.
If the strategy he and his dad had crafted could pull the rabbit out of the hat, maybe people would be more accepting than he feared. Maybe he really could have a future with her. If not, if the mages convicted him, he would find some way to protect her.
And to see Blake pay.
The High Council filled the opposite table, with the rest of the councilors again in front row seats. Griff’s eyes met Stefan’s encouraging ones.
A few minutes later, Will hurried down the stairs and squeezed into a seat a couple of rows from the front. He gave Griff the barest of nods. Javier Ruiz sat behind him, his dark eyes grim and focused. Javy’s wife, Karen, was not a mage and so couldn’t sit in on this proceeding. At the back, by the door, Lorelei sat with Chuck Porter and his wife, Dora, a high school English teacher.
Two rows below Lorelei and Chuck sat Tasha. Weapons were forbidden in here, except for the door wardens’ spears, but Griff would bet she had something lethal on her somewhere. The rest of Griff’s team was outside, in the overflow section on the lawn.
Sybil Harrison sat halfway up, with some of the other deputy reeves. Griff leaned over to Valeria. “Do you see Sybil?”
“Yes. Can’t read her expression, though.” She bit her lip. “I thought we were friends.”
“I know, love.
You will be again.”
The loremaster, Gerry Armitage, came down the stairs and over to Griff’s table. His face showed only neutral disinterest, and Griff caught no hint of his mood in the magic. “Valeria, whether we proceed against you will depend on the outcome of Griffin’s trial.”
“I know. Thanks, Gerry.”
He nodded. “Griffin, in accordance with the procedures laid down in the Caudex Magi, are you ready to answer the charges against you?”
“I am.”
As Gerry crossed to the Council table, Valeria touched Griff’s arm. “Nervous?”
“No.” Not anymore. Not if he could nail that bastard, Blake.
Gerry turned to the audience. “The wards are set.” He nodded at Will, who had helped set them. “A blue aura signals truth, green denotes evasion, and red, lies. After hearing the witnesses, the assembly will pass judgment.”
He paused, power crackling around him as his gaze swept the room. “On you who are to judge, I lay this geas. You must vote only if your mind is open now, not judge on any preconception, and you will not speak of this, will not write of it, until you vote on the morrow.”
The power of the geas, the binding, rolled through the room, encompassing the onlookers and giving each of their faces a brief, golden glow.
Gerry turned to Griff. “Griffin Rhys Dare, stand forth.”
Valeria gave his hand a last squeeze before she released it. He rose, buttoning his suit jacket, and took his stance before the obsidian seat. Although his heart was doing quick time, he felt strangely calm. No more running, no more hiding, no matter how this turned out.
“You stand accused,” Gerry said, “of the willful murders of Milt Alden, chief councilor of the Southeastern Shire Collegium Council, and of four deputy reeves, Terrence Lewis, Delia Swann, Max Argot, and John Darby, who attempted to stop you as you fled after killing Chief Councilor Alden.”
Gerry continued, charging him with murdering Allie, Sykes, and Corin, too. The silence, the concentration, in the chamber pressed on Griff like lead. Without the shackles dampening his power, he could feel the vibrations of the spectators’ magic in the air.
Finally, Gerry looked back at him. “What say you to these charges?”
“I accept responsibility for those deaths, but they were not murder.” Even to him, that sounded absurd. How could you be responsible for eight people’s deaths without being a murderer?
As though to taunt him with the question, Dan Jacobs, Griffin’s predecessor as shire reeve, father to Corin and Mitch, walked down the stairs and squeezed into a seat. Dan looked tired, old. That scumbag Blake’s treason had cost too many people far too much.
Gerry read out a list of other charges, all involving ghoul collaboration, all totally bogus, and Griff denied them.
“Finally,” Gerry said, “you stand accused of conspiring to bring demons through the Veil into the land.”
“I deny that, too. Shire Reeve Valeria Banning and I stopped ghouls from bringing demons through.”
“Having heard the accusations and having answered,” Gerry said, “be seated. Tell us what you would have us know.” He walked back to his own place, a marble stool set in front of the councilors.
Griff settled himself on the black chair, resting his hands on his knees. Even without chains, this seat would never be comfortable.
“I did kill Alden, because he was in league with the ghouls. One of my deputy reeves who was injured in a failed raid knew he was dying and wanted peace. He admitted to helping Alden warn the ghouls. I accused Alden in the Council chamber, he denied it, and no one believed me.”
He kept his voice steady, but the memory of what had come next still haunted him and probably always would. “In the firefight after that, four deputy reeves died. I consider that my fault for not managing events better.”
Of course their families and friends despised him for that. They had every right.
“As for the rest, I categorically deny having any dealings with the ghouls except for trying to stop them. I categorically deny doing anything to favor or help them. I deny killing Allie or Corin, though I feel responsible because they were trying to help me. I did kill Sykes in self-defense, after he killed Allie.
“And I absolutely, on my life, damned well deny ever doing anything for the benefit of demons.” His anger bubbled behind the words, and he let it. He’d had more than enough of being the mage world’s favorite villain.
The aura held blue as it faded.
Blake rose to question him on the council’s behalf. “Your father is one of our most esteemed attorneys, yet you never sought legal vindication.”
“I considered it.” Griff looked up at Dan Jacobs, Corin’s father. “Acting Shire Reeve Corin Jacobs tried to arrange a hearing for me. He phoned me to say the Council intended to grant me one, but only as a lure. When I surrendered, they would kill me. While we were on the phone, someone killed him.”
He let the pain of that memory show as he looked steadily at Corin’s father. Dan’s face tightened, with grief stark in his eyes.
Blake pursed his lips. “Corin Jacobs was killed with a staff weapon. You are the only mage in the Southeast who uses one.”
“Only I use one regularly,” Griff corrected. “Students sometimes train with them, and the Collegium has several in the armory.” As Blake well knew. Griff took a moment to master his temper, then bit out, “You don’t need much skill to blast a mage in the back.”
“Who do you claim killed Corin Jacobs, if not you?”
Griff narrowed his eyes at Blake. “Since the killer was screened, invisible to scrying, that’s the question, isn’t it?”
“Only if one doubts you killed the man who pursued you doggedly. You’re asking us to be conspiracy theorists.” Blake gave the room a cool smile. “You may believe what you say, Griffin Dare, but that does not mean you are correct. What proof have you of Alden’s supposed treason? Or anyone else’s?”
“I have no proof of Alden’s treason, as I’m sure you know. As for anyone else’s…” Griff paused, leveling a hard stare at Blake. “Yesterday’s session was illuminating.”
“Do you wish to make an accusation?” Blake bit out the words.
Gerry stood. “Accusations must be made in their proper form and time. Griffin, if you wish to lay a charge, you may do so when this proceeding concludes tomorrow.”
“Fine.” Watching Blake, Griff bared his teeth in a wolfish smile. “I’ll do that. As for the charge I made against Alden, I acted on a deathbed confession, as I said. It’s not something I can reproduce for you here.”
“Nor is it something we can verify. I assume you’ve tried scrying for proof?”
“I have. As we all know, scrying has its limits. It doesn’t display sound. It can’t reveal events that are screened or events yet to be. You can’t exactly use Google to browse for what you want.”
The crowd chuckled, breaking the tension. They might not like him, but a lot of them didn’t hate him. He could feel that in the magic they all shared.
“So you have no proof,” Blake repeated.
Before Griff could answer, a deep voice said, “I can corroborate the confession.”
Chapter 23
Val jerked her head in the direction Griffin was glaring, toward the Council seats. In the center of their bench, Stefan Harper stood, his hard, brown eyes fixed on Gene’s face.
Val leaned toward Hettie. “Did you know about this?”
“Only Stefan and I knew,” Stuart said softly. “Griff would’ve forbidden it, but this is critical. It’s the only way to clear him of murder in Alden’s death. Once that’s done, all the rest will follow.”
“Yield the chair,” Gerry ordered, glancing at Griffin.
Griffin’s eyes held Stefan’s for a long moment, and then he stood. His face stony, he walked back to his seat at the table.
Stefan took the black chair. His eyes swept the room. “I treated Deputy Reeve Zeb Vance. He was dying, wounded too badly for us to save, a
nd he was angry. He told me he’d helped Alden send mages to defend ghoul nests. Alden never told the deputies of the consequences. Zeb wanted absolution before he died. I told the shire reeve at the time, Griffin Dare, and I’ve kept silent all these years at his insistence.”
The aura around the chair glowed blue. The audience’s shock vibrated in the air, and only the crackling of the torches broke the silence.
Val slid her hand into Griffin’s. He looked too grim for a man hearing testimony that could clear him. “What’s wrong?”
“One of us with his ass on the line was enough.”
Val sighed. “Someday, you’ll realize you can’t protect everyone you care about. And you don’t have to.”
Griffin said nothing, watching his friend, but he laced his fingers through hers.
Stefan again looked around the room. “He has paid a high price for trying to protect us. We cannot, in good conscience, condemn him for that.”
“I’m sorry,” Gerry said, sounding as though he meant it, “but you aren’t to advocate while sitting there. That’s for after, for the accused or his counsel.”
Judging from the faces looking down at them, advocacy would be mere icing on the cake of Griffin’s acquittal. He and Val might actually have a shot at a life together.
Anticipation was a fool’s game, Griff reminded himself late that night, staring at the ceiling of his cell. He’d learned never to count on anything, especially anything good, until it arrived.
Yet he couldn’t get Marc’s words that afternoon out of his head. As a man sows, thus shall he reap, Marc had said, quoting the Bible, at the end of a somewhat embarrassing litany of Griff’s activities in Wayfarer. Hearing it all felt good, though. It made him hope, whether he wanted to trust that or not.
At least he’d left a good mark somewhere, no matter how this trial turned out.
Something moved near the door. He sat up, and the cell’s lights rose automatically.
Gene Blake stepped into view. Griff swallowed a triumphant grin.
“If you accuse me, they won’t believe you.”
Griff drew his unchained leg up, rested his bare foot on the bunk’s edge. “We’ll find out tomorrow.”
Renegade Page 24
