by Lincoln Cole
“Speculation, at least, would not have self-interest. How do we know he isn’t making things up or withholding information for his own purposes?”
“What purposes? What reason could he have for lying about what happened at Raven’s Peak?” Frieda asked.
“Perhaps, he is being coerced, or he simply wants to tell a fantastical story about—”
“Enough,” Aram said, his voice low. “No one in this room will call my son a liar.”
The room fell silent while exchanging glances. Haatim found himself a little surprised and gratified to hear his father defend him, even if they sat on opposite sides.
“All right, then,” Frieda said, after a pause. “Haatim’s testimony has been submitted into evidence. If there are no further objections, we shall move on.”
No one spoke up. Frieda nodded at Haatim, signaling he could leave his place at the table. He stood, stifling a groan, and walked to his corner of the room, from where he could observe. His entire body felt sore, and he couldn’t remember a time when constant pain hadn’t plagued him.
Every day, he woke early, went on a long hike, sparred, did more exercises, and then went to bed. Not given enough time to rest or think or recover. Just a steady and grueling process that felt physically and mentally draining.
His body had grown stronger, but it seemed an incredibly slow process. Dominick focused mostly on low-impact tasks to minimize injuries, and Haatim just did tons of them. Still, it felt like every time he took one step forward, he ended up taking two steps back.
Then again, he’d never slept so well in his entire life.
Luckily, because he had to participate in the trial, held early in the morning, they had skipped out on their hike. At least he had one day to relax.
Haatim, the only outsider allowed into the trial room, had a special dispensation because he also acted as a witness. They hadn’t even allowed Dominick inside, and Haatim wasn’t supposed to share any details outside of the room.
The hotel had filled up with more mercenaries over the last two weeks. They patrolled the outside and surrounding areas and carried heavy weapons, giving it the feel of a military complex. It all had a dystopian feel for Haatim, locked away from civilization.
Add to that the purpose of this trial, deciding life or death for Abigail in, essentially, a space for a corporate gathering, and the image became complete. The weight of what the Council was doing in a hotel conference room felt hard to wrap his head around.
This made the third day of the trial. The first two, they hadn’t allowed him to watch, but Frieda told him they’d gone well. The discussions leaned heavily toward forgiveness and reprimand, and now that he’d given his testimony, he hoped that most people still on the fence would side with Frieda.
After all, Abigail was a hero. No matter how else they described her, she had saved the lives of countless people in Raven’s Peak. He didn’t even need to embellish to prove just how amazing and selfless Abigail was.
“Who is your next witness?” Frieda asked, directing the question at Aram. Apart from Frieda, he made for the only other person actually in the room. The rest had connected remotely through the AR glasses.
“My next witness against Abigail,” Aram said. “Is Delaphene.”
Frieda spoke up immediately, “I move to strike this witness.”
A look of anger flashed across his father’s face. Everyone had heard about what testimony Delaphene would give, but unless they logged it in as evidence, it would serve no purpose.
“She has testimony to give about actions taken prior to Abigail’s entrance to Raven’s Peak.”
“She is a demon,” Frieda said. “On that fact alone, we cannot give her testimony any weight. It is in their nature to lie.”
“I second the motion,” Jun Lee said from across the room. “I have no wish to hear the lies and half-truths of a demon. Even if she did speak the truth, she would have an ulterior purpose.”
“She has damning evidence,” Aram said. “She claims deals were made and could give specifics.”
“Then, are we to make deals with her ourselves to find out what she knows?” Jun asked coolly, meeting Aram’s gaze.
Aram hesitated for a second, just long enough to show his apprehension about this testimony. “She has no reason to lie, and we should allow her to speak.”
“If you cannot prove Abigail’s guilt without this witness, then your case is a smokescreen,” Jun said.
“It will be brought to a vote,” Frieda said. “Those who do not wish to treat with a demon should, at least, be allowed to voice their objections.”
Aram, clearly, didn’t like the proposition, but he also didn’t have any alternatives. He nodded. “Very well. All who would like to hear the testimony of Delaphene about the actions Abigail took against the Council, vote yea.”
A flash came in the middle of the table, and a counter appeared, showing the votes as they poured in from all over the world. It didn’t differentiate who cast the votes but did track them as the voters cast them.
It only took a few seconds to realize that Aram wouldn’t have his way. Overwhelmingly, they voted to dismiss Delaphene’s testimony as evidence.
“The nays have it,” Frieda said, a note of smugness in her tone. “Delaphene and all of her testimony will be struck from the record.”
“Very well,” Aram said. “The Council has spoken.”
“I believe that is all of the evidence that is to be submitted today,” Frieda said. “We will break and pick up in the morning to have more discussions and cast our final vote—”
“One moment,” Aram said. “I have one more piece of evidence I would like to submit, with the Council’s approval.”
Frieda frowned, dismayed with where this had headed.
“You made no mention of this before?”
“It only just came to my attention,” Aram said. “I apologize for the unusual request but feel this evidence necessary to our final deliberations.”
“It was not submitted earlier in the trial,” Frieda said. “So, I do not believe it should be submitted.”
“It is even more important to the nature of this case than Delaphene.”
“What is it?” Frieda said with a cold grin. “Another demon?”
She said it in jest, but it didn’t go over well in the room. At best, she got a few half-smiles, but no one laughed, and one red-headed woman even coughed.
“May we vote to hear the evidence?” Aram said. “With Delaphene removed, I feel it even more important that we show equality in our considerations of each item. I assure you, what I have to show is completely necessary to this trial, and quite compelling.”
“Seconded,” the woman with red hair said, raising her hand. She had a distinct Southern accent and wore a dress that matched her hair. It made her freckles stand out and gave her an unattractive ruddy appearance. Haatim thought that maybe her name was Deborah, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Very well,” Frieda said, wary. Aram had backed her into a corner with no easy way out. “We should vote.”
A second later, the tally began flashing. This one a mirror image of the last, with eleven votes tallied in favor for presenting this new evidence.
Aram smiled at Frieda after the vote finished.
“All of the evidence to this point has included Abigail’s willing opposition to orders from her leader. This evidence will show her complete disregard for her place in the Order and her willingness to disrespect the Council.”
“Please, get to the evidence,” Frieda said, an edge of annoyance in her tone. “Spare us the theatrics.”
Aram ignored her, still addressing the other members of the Council.
“The Council, after the original events of Raven’s Peak when Arthur lost his life, gave Abigail an explicit directive. One of them, to stay away from the children whom Arthur saved that day. We didn’t know what role she might have played in their capture while under demonic possession, and we didn’t want her presence to ca
use issues with their recovery. Was this not so?”
“It was,” the red-haired woman said. “We all voted for it.”
“Unanimously,” Aram said, now turning to Frieda. “Was it not?”
Frieda hesitated. “Yes, everyone agreed that until we had further information about those events, we should keep Abigail away. But only because we didn’t face the original problem correctly—”
“So.” Aram turned toward the Council. “It would be a direct violation of a Council order if she went to one of those girls, would it not?”
Everyone stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He paused, gloating, and then said, “I have incontrovertible evidence that she ignored such a Council order. Further, she not only visited, but directly interacted with, Sara Heinelman.”
He moved to a table on the side of the room where a laptop sat. As it came to life, so did a television in the corner of the room, showing the screen. Aram tapped a few times and played a video. Haatim recognized it instantly, and his heart sank.
It showed the park he’d gone to with Abigail to see Sara. The view came from up high with a wide-angle lens, and on the screen, he could make out Abigail walking down a park sidewalk.
She stopped in front of a little girl. The image looked unclear, but he knew Sara immediately. On screen, Abigail knelt in front of her, handed her something, and then touched her thumb to the little girl’s forehead.
When she did this, the image on the screen flickered, going out of focus from a disruption. Haatim heard drawn breaths when this happened and knew how damning the evidence would look to someone not there.
Hell, it didn’t look good to him, and he had been distracting children at that time.
It only lasted a few seconds. When the image came back into focus, Abigail looked exhausted and drained, kneeling in front of the little girl and struggling just to keep her balance. Sara felt her forehead and ran off, disappearing out of the frame.
Another few moments passed before Abigail found her feet and staggered off in the other direction, disappearing off-screen as well. When she disappeared from view, Aram stopped the video and turned off the laptop.
A blanket of silence wrapped the entire room as its occupants tried to absorb what they’d just seen. Haatim supposed the only saving grace for him was that it didn’t show him too. At least they didn’t get to see his pathetic and creepy attempt to distract the children so Abigail could have that moment alone with Sara.
Finally, Jun spoke up, “This action is clearly in direct violation of our orders.” He addressed Frieda. “Did you know of this?”
Frieda hesitated, which Haatim knew further damned her. She looked about to lie but changed her mind. “One of my Hunters, monitoring the children, informed me,” Frieda muttered. “However, when that report came in, we also noted that the link had severed and the scar on her forehead healed. Our doctors proved unable to achieve such a result after months of work.”
“It doesn’t matter what our doctors were or were not able to do,” Aram said, savoring the moment. “This was not her decision to make. Nor yours in keeping it from the Council.”
Frieda didn’t respond, keeping her face passive, but Haatim could see the cauldron of emotions raging. He thought to bring up the fact that his father had known about this as well, so why did he withhold the information until now except to get as much impact out of it as possible?
However, that wouldn’t help Frieda or Abigail. The damage done, their only hope now lay in the fact that this new evidence wouldn’t make too much to overcome in a final vote.
Surely, even with this new information, it wouldn’t offer enough to punish someone with death, right?
“That is the last of my evidence,” Aram said. “Do you have anything else to present for the defense?”
Frieda didn’t respond except to stare at him. Haatim just felt glad that she aimed her look at his father and not himself.
Aram seemed to have a similar feeling. His smile faded, and he looked a little uncomfortable.
“Very well,” he said. “We will reconvene in the morning for our final vote on the matter. Thank you, everyone.”
***
“She just stormed out?” Abigail asked.
“As soon as my father finished speaking and dismissed everyone, she ran out of the room. I’ve never seen her so angry.”
“I have,” Abigail said. “But usually directed at me.”
Haatim smiled. They sat in Abigail’s room, him in an armchair, and her on the edge of her bed. He came by every day, at least for a little while, filling her in on what happened outside the walls of her little prison. Continually, she asked him about how the trial went, but this made the first time he could give her an actual answer.
The Council would be angry if they knew he’d told her about it, but he didn’t care.
“You seem to be doing well,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she said. “It’s nice having the trial underway. For better or worse, at least I’ll have an answer.”
“Tomorrow,” he said. “I can’t believe it’s here already.”
“I know.”
“It must have been a nightmare just waiting around like this. People making such a huge decision about your future, and you can’t even be involved in it.”
“You have no idea,” Abigail said. “Don’t get me wrong; I definitely would prefer getting good news tomorrow.”
“Unless they find you guilty,” Haatim said.
“Yeah. Unless that.”
“They won’t,” Haatim said. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I met several of the Council members today. They seem like genuinely good people, who want to help others, not hurt them. I’m confident that they will realize we live in a more beautiful world with you in it than if you weren’t.”
As soon as he spoke the words, he realized how sappy and romantic they sounded. Abigail, however, either didn’t notice or chose not to point it out.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “I knew going to see Sara was a bad idea, but I don’t regret doing it. I needed to know.”
“I get it,” Haatim said, unsure if he agreed with her—not in a million years would he have acted against the Council the way she did—but, at the very least, he could respect her decisions. Beyond impressed by her willingness to stand up for what she believed in, he would have liked that trait in himself.
But, he had enough honesty to know that he wasn’t made of the same stuff. He worried too much about what people thought of him to act so unilaterally.
“Thank you,” Abigail said. “For coming to visit and keeping me company. It’s miserable not knowing what’s going on, and I’m grateful that you’re willing to put up with me.”
“Always,” Haatim said. “Only one more day to worry, and then you’ll be free once again.”
“You’ll be back tomorrow?”
“Of course,” he said. “As soon as the trial is over. I can’t wait for the opportunity to come and tell you that you’re innocent!”
She smiled at him, but a sad smile. They sat in comfortable silence until a knock came at the door. A few seconds later, Dominick poked his head into the room.
“Ready to go?” he asked Haatim.
“Go where?”
“Hiking,” Dominick said.
Haatim groaned. “Now?”
Dominick grinned. “Oh, buddy, do I have something special in store for you,” he said. “Meet me outside in two minutes.”
Then he disappeared. Haatim sighed.
“Sounds fun,” Abigail said, chuckling. “Wish I could go.”
“I wish you could, too,” he said. “Instead of me.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad?”
“I’ve never felt so tired in my entire life. I feel like one of those stuffed chew toys you give to your dog and it flails around with it.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Dominic
k.”
“It’s freezing outside,” he said. “Snow isn’t my thing.”
“Mine either,” she said. “At least, I get to stay inside where it’s nice and toasty.”
Haatim laughed. “You’re mean.”
Abigail smiled. “You might hate it now, but Dominick is one of the best people I’ve ever met. If anyone can help you learn how to take care of yourself, it’s him.”
“Yeah,” Haatim said. “That’s what Frieda keeps telling me. In fact, every time I have to do something crappy, everyone tells me that, one day, I’ll look back on it as a learning experience and feel grateful it happened.”
Abigail shrugged. “It builds character?”
“Why can’t sitting around and eating a tub of ice cream build character?”
“It does,” Abigail said. “But only if you’re lactose intolerant.”
Haatim chuckled. “True. I better not keep Dominick waiting. I’ll be back tomorrow as soon as the trial is over.”
“Okay,” Abigail said. “I look forward to it.”
“It’ll be good news.” Haatim headed for the door. “I promise.”
Abigail smiled again but still didn’t believe him completely. “Sounds good,” she said.
He headed out into the hall to meet Dominick, praying he had it right about the trial. He didn’t know what he would do if they found her guilty.
***
“How much farther?”
“Only a little,” Dominick said. “Stick with it.”
Every time they crested one hill, another waited for him on the other side. Haatim felt convinced that Dominick was just leading them in circles, always pretending like they were on their way back to the Council hotel but secretly leading him further away.
Probably to kill him. By now, he couldn’t feel sure of anything. They’d stayed out here for hours, at least twice as long as their normal forays.
Light snow fell, which meant he couldn’t prove or disprove his theory by using their tracks. Everywhere he looked, a fresh dusting of snow covered everything, and it all looked the same. Mountains, hills, and valleys all around.
These mountains aren’t beautiful, he decided, revoking his earlier opinion on the matter. They are evil and terrible.
