Magic Rising

by Camilla Chafer

  “You may be seated,” said Lisette over the ripples of conversation I could hear behind me at Georgia’s directness. “The defence may now present its statement.”

  Steven rose to his feet. Mirroring Georgia’s movements, he took up the same stance on the opposite side of the courtroom, in full view of everyone. He waited while Georgia returned to her seat. She was flaunting an imperious air of having already won.

  “Stella Mayweather, like the other young people in that house, was there for safety reasons and to receive training from her elders. Look upon her. She is neither cruel, not murderous, nor shielded by anyone. Instead, she stands before you here today, to prove that she acted only out of concern for her friends and the residents of the safe house where she was sent by the Bartholomews. Indeed, our honourable former Leader, Robert Bartholomew, requested that she stay there to protect her from his own wife, as his suspicions were already roused by Eleanor’s previous actions.” Steven paused to take a breath. The audience hung on his every word as he addressed them directly. “Stella Mayweather was left alone at a tender age, to fend for herself, alone, after the brutal murder of both of her parents. This event will finally come to light if these charges are brought to trial. It was Eleanor Bartholomew herself who orchestrated Stella’s so-called ‘rescue’ and who insisted she be brought to the Council. Inside her mad delusion, she had her own illicit reasons. It was she who attacked the safe house, she who murdered her own husband, and she who killed anyone who crossed her path in her desperate attempt to finish Stella off. She was unable to do so previously, when Stella was a child. As soon as Stella knew her friends’ lives were in jeopardy, she did the only thing she could. She protected them.”

  While he spoke, Steven was gradually drifting to the centre of the courtroom and standing with his hands wide, and his palms open to the assembly. In his closing argument in my defence, Steven said, “Stella is not a murderer, nor is she responsible in any way for the death of Jared Dorling. We are prepared to call all of the surviving witnesses who were at the house that day and believe their full accounts of the events will prove Stella’s innocence.”

  “I heard she was protecting her demon lover!” a voice yelled from the audience and a collective gasp circulated through the crowd.

  “Silence!” Lisette’s voice carried through the room.

  “If the court will permit me to respond?” Steven waited. Finally, Lisette nodded. Steven turned to the audience again, his wise old eyes scanning the room. “Stella attempted to protect everyone. Everyone,” he repeated. “We are confident accounts of that day will prove that Stella’s actions saved many lives; and although she could not prevent Jared’s death, she was by the same reason not responsible for it. The defence calls for these charges to be immediately dismissed on the grounds that this courageous young woman did her best to save lives, not end them.”

  “The judiciary will retire for one hour to consider the merit of this trial. We will recess until then.”

  This time, as the gavel banged, the judiciary dematerialised.

  A clerk approached us and Steven bent his head to listen. “We’ll wait in the side room,” he told me when the clerk stepped away. “Come on.”

  I felt sick to my stomach in the small windowless room. It seemed like time was leeching away from us, yet whenever I checked my watch, only minutes had passed. Every time I closed my eyes, the image of Jared’s lifeless body lying on the floor where he fell made my throat grow hot and tight. “Maybe I am responsible,” I said, in a voice choked with tears. “Eleanor wanted me. She only attacked everyone else because she couldn’t get to me. Maybe, maybe if…”

  “Stop it,” Etoile said suddenly and very decisively. “We can’t change anything. Robert told us to protect you, that’s why he did what he did. Jared is dead and you are no more responsible for that than you were responsible for Georgia trying to slip Chyler Anderson out of her own body!”

  “But I didn’t save Jared!”

  “Because you couldn’t! You can’t save everyone.” Etoile rested her back against the wall. “You think we don’t all wonder about what we could have done differently? For a month afterwards, that was all we talked about. If only we’d known a little more about Eleanor’s motives…. If only we’d put extra wards on the house… Evan even wondered if he should have asked Robert more about why he was being asked to train you, rather than a witch. Marc always wanted to know why none of the witches in the community ever investigated where his magic went. Perhaps if they had, she would now be on trial for your parents’ murder as well as treason. Astra… oh, even my poor sister wondered why Eleanor’s influence worked so flawlessly and if she couldn’t have tried harder to struggle out from under it. We’ve all wondered what could have been, Stella. But not once, NOT ONCE, did we ever, ever, blame you.”

  My jaw trembled and I wiped a tear with the back of my hand. I needed to hear that. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” Etoile turned away, her arms folded. I’d never seen her look so pale.

  “I hate it, you know.”

  “What?”

  I took a deep breath. “I hate that I wanted her dead. I hate that I called for her heart. I still killed her, and now I wish I hadn’t.”

  “It was either you or her,” said Etoile, simply. “Does that make it any easier?”

  “No. But given the choice, I would choose me again.”

  “Me too.”

  Steven laid a hand over mine. “If this goes to trial, everything will come out,” he assured me. “Everything. Perhaps, as the judiciary confers, they will consider what this trial will say about the Council as much as what it says about you. At least, you have the knowledge that you acted in defence of others and your motives were honest and pure. What can they possibly say to excuse their own failures?”

  This time, when the clerk appeared, I felt less frightened. Still worried, but less scared. I’d faced terror before and gotten through it; and like Steven said, if everything came out, perhaps that would be a good thing. The rest I would just deal with when it happened. He was right. What ifs would get me nowhere. If Georgia wanted to fight this out, for whatever reasons, I would meet her one-on-one.

  Lisette waited for us all to be seated before she began. “The judiciary has considered the request of the prosecution to add the second crime to the indictment.” We waited breathlessly. “And we will proceed to trial. Estrella Mayweather stands accused of murdering Eleanor Bartholomew; and the second charge alleges her responsibility for the death of Jared Dorling. The prosecution and defence will both approach the bench to name their witnesses and offer evidence.”

  I barely heard Lisette’s pronouncement as the audience broke out into loud conversation. From odd words I gathered here and there, there was some confusion as to whether this was a good thing or not. Some were interested to know the true events of that night, while others believed I was a killer and should be immediately sentenced. Some others still thought I was innocent. With so many voices talking, I couldn’t venture a guess as to how the assembly was split, much less how the judiciary could come to such a catastrophic — for me, anyway — decision.

  Etoile and I sat silently together watching Steven’s back as he and Georgia Thomas approached the table, and consulted the judiciary. It seemed like ages before Steven returned to us.

  “Though this is not what we hoped for,” he began, his voice so soft that only we could hear. “I have some good news. Our witness lists match, so it is likely that the trial will proceed quickly. They have evidence, which we will be able to see shortly. I really think it’s a matter of the questions to be asked and how it will be spun.”

  “So, no matter what the truth is, it’s just how it appears that matters?” I asked, my whispered voice matching his. “All Georgia has to do is structure the questions in such a way that my answers will make me look guilty?”

  “Georgia could make the sunshine sound like a bad thing,” agreed Etoile.

  Steven shrugged. “We
’ll proceed this afternoon. With luck, it will be over before the Summit begins.”

  “How?” I asked. “Doesn’t it take weeks to swear in a jury?”

  Steven gave me a puzzled look, like he couldn’t quite work out where I’d gotten that idea from. “There won’t be any jury. The judiciary act as judge and jury.”

  “Isn’t that unconstitutional?”

  “Not here. Here, they make the rules.”

  “Just another reason why the Council is inept,” spat Etoile angrily. “Not to mention the conflicts of interest.”

  “Shh. You should keep your opinions to yourself while we’re in court,” chided Steven before I could ask what she meant. “You’ll do Stella no good by insulting the Council. You’ll get your opportunity to speak.”

  The gavel banged again, swiftly restoring the quiet. “Evidence begins in one hour,” announced Lisette. “I call recess.”

  “They love their recesses,” I muttered, but rose to my feet in unison with everyone else. “Why didn’t you ask for more time?”

  “We don’t need it. This is a good thing,” whispered Steven. “We have chance to review the evidence; and with the trial starting soon, it gives Georgia less time to pester the witnesses.”

  Given Georgia’s reputation, that could only be a good thing. Though I knew all the witnesses to the events of that fateful day, and expected their memories to echo my own, I still didn’t want them targeted through her manipulations and threats.

  “It’s time to set up our war room,” added Steven. I thought war was an excellent choice of words. “Etoile, you must remain here while I discuss Stella’s testimony. I don’t want us to be accused of not getting your story straight.”

  Ensconced again in the small room, just the two of us this time, Steven outlined his plan. According to the judiciary rules, he explained, the prosecution had the first shot at each witness, after which the defence presented their rebuttal, as Steven put it. With the right kind of questioning, we could lessen the impact of any less than desirable answer. I assumed he was referring to the question everyone wanted answered: what exactly happened in Eleanor’s final moments?

  Repeatedly, we went over the witnesses, with Steven asking questions in a slightly different way each time. Where was Seren when it happened? How long did I stay with Kitty? What did Marc witness? Did I remember the events correctly? Over and over it went, until my mind felt numb.

  “We’re ready,” he said after I summarised my memories one last time.

  ~

  The first witness called to the stand was Seren Winterstorm. She and Etoile were so similar they could have been twins, were it not for the year separating their births. They were, however, quite the opposites in personality. Etoile was short-haired and had a penchant for tailored clothing, while Seren had long, wavy hair and a much more laid-back vibe. I liked her immensely, but even that didn’t squelch the worry that was ricocheting through me as I watched her take the dais.

  Georgia started with simple questions. “When did you first meet Stella Mayweather?” she asked.

  “At the safe house,” replied Seren, her face neutral, neither hostile nor sympathetic to Georgia’s side. She sat with her hands clasped lightly in her lap and didn’t fidget.

  “And why was she there?”

  “The Bartholomews wanted to keep her safe from the Brotherhood so she could begin her magic training. Robert Bartholomew insisted on the safe house; as well as having my sister or me present at all times.”

  “Stella was untrained in her magic?”

  “Yes.”

  “But she possessed it?”

  “Yes.”

  That clear, Georgia continued. “What kind of training did she undergo at the safe house?”

  “I wasn’t directly involved, but Stella learned to control her shimmer and how to use telekinesis. She also received lessons in spellcraft from David Langstrom.”

  “You weren’t involved in her teaching… I see, so aside from David Langstrom, who was?”

  Seren hesitated. “My sister, Etoile, sometimes, but mostly, Evan Hunter.” A ripple of gasps went through the room at hearing his name. With surprise, I realised Evan was far more well known that I could have thought, even though I did recall him telling me so.

  “Evan Hunter is not a witch, is he?”

  “No.”

  “Would you please tell the court exactly what he is.”

  “Daemon.” Another ripple of whispers ran through the courtroom. Evan explained to me that certain prejudices, of which I was unaware, ran between our communities. Only now was I seeing the effects. Daemons were not liked in general, and certainly not trusted; but the snippets of conversation I caught suggested that he was, dare I say it? Revered. I wasn’t sure why. For the present, I was focused on Seren.

  “A daemon teaching a witch? Does that seem unusual to you?”

  “Yes.”

  Georgia paused to allow that answer to sink into the minds of the audience. She was presenting what they would, no doubt, surmise as a darker side of me, I supposed. With a sinking feeling, I wondered when she would bring up our relationship.

  “And Stella’s knowledge of magic improved under his tutelage?”

  “Yes. She learned how to control it better, after some practice and coaching.”

  “How well could she control it?”

  “Quite well, actually. She was new, but she did okay.”

  “Did she hold much power?”

  Again, Seren hesitated.

  “Ms. Winterstorm?” Georgia prompted.

  “Yes. We could all feel her power.”

  Georgia stopped for a long, pregnant pause. Then, just as the assembly got restless, she asked, “You knew from an early stage that Stella had the potential to be a powerful witch, didn’t you? What about a dangerous one?”

  “Yea—No! That is, we knew she had powers. I never thought she was…”

  Georgia interrupted her immediately. “Were you present the day Eleanor Bartholomew was killed?”

  “Yes. I was in the same room.”

  “Did you see what happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Stella Mayweather kill Eleanor Bartholomew?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “And was Jared Dorling caught in the crossfire?”

  “No!” Seren gave a quick shake of her head as she glanced towards his mother. “Jared was killed when he tried to prevent Eleanor from hurting anyone. Stella was nowhere near him at the time.”

  “But Stella was responsible for Eleanor being there, that day, in that room, where Jared Dorling was killed?”

  “Yes, but…” Seren gaped at us, trapped.

  “No further questions.” Georgia wheeled around and strode away before Seren could crawl out of the corner she’d been wedged into. Georgia had performed well. She made it abundantly clear that I was powerful, reckless, and much too close to a daemon, obviously aimed to incite suspicion into the assembly. She also received the direct answer to her most damning question: Did I kill Eleanor?

  “Mr. Haller, your witness,” said Lisette.

  Steven buttoned his jacket as he stood up and approached the stand. His face had assumed the masked expression that slipped over Seren’s face once again. “Did any member of the household ever express any concerns to you about Stella’s magic? The way she was being taught, perhaps?”

  Seren shook her head. “No. We were impressed by her control. She had a lot to learn in a short amount of time. Most of us learn to control our magic and how to use it properly during our childhoods. But Stella learned of her powers quite late in life.

  “So, you never felt in danger?”

  This time, Seren appeared surprised. “From Stella? Never.”

  Steven nodded as if he expected that. “Did any member of the household have concerns about Stella being taught by Evan Hunter?”

  “No. He was an excellent teacher, and he was personally sent by Robert Bartholomew. Robert told me it was a special request of a
friend.”

  “Did you have any concerns about Evan Hunter being in the house, especially given his heritage?”

  “None. I’d met him before and always found him… pleasant, I guess. He’s nice. And he really cares about Stella.”

  “Let’s fast forward now to the day Eleanor Bartholomew arrived at the house. Tell the court about the day’s events.”

  “Robert actually arrived first. He came to warn us.”

  “What did he warn you about?”

  “That it wasn’t safe for Stella to stay there anymore. He was worried for her.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No.” Seren took a deep breath. “No, he didn’t get chance to. Eleanor arrived shortly thereafter and… And she killed him.”

  “You saw it happen?”

  “Yes. Etoile, Evan, Stella and I were all in the room.”

  “What happened next?”

  “We ran. I went to find Christy and Clara, but I couldn’t. Stella and Evan went towards the kitchen. Then Jared… Jared rushed Eleanor and she killed him. She mocked him too, calling him a ‘fool’.” Seren wrinkled her nose at the word.

  “Let’s move further ahead for a few minutes. What happened in the final moments leading up to Eleanor’s death?”

  “Eleanor used her magic to assault Stella. Evan was badly hurt when he pushed Stella out of the way and took the blow intended for her. Then Eleanor attacked Kitty, and taunted us, saying we would all die. She was torturing Kitty and Stella tried to stop her.”

  “Could you explain what you mean?”

  “Stella tried to fight back with her magic.”

  “And did that stop Eleanor while she was in a rage?”

  “No. Stella had to stop her by other means.”

  “What do you mean by ‘stop her’?”

  “Stella killed her, but it was self-defence. It was the only way she could stop Eleanor.”

  “Why didn’t you stop Eleanor?”

  “I was trying to help my sister and Marc; and something blocked my magic. We couldn’t get out. We were trapped in the house.”

  “Thank you. No more questions.”

  “Seren Winterstorm may step down,” said Lisette.