by Viola Grace
The prosecutor stood. “Objection. Peacekeeper Cadet Ambermarle.”
The defense smiled. “Of course. Peacekeeper Cadet Ambermarle, the first attack must have been devastating.”
She gave the man a bland look. “It was certainly a surprise.”
“And you are human?”
“The creatures attacked a human. The attacks themselves triggered something else.”
The defense paused, confused. “What was triggered?”
“It is a personal condition that has no bearing on the initial attack.”
The defense counsel walked up to her. “You are under oath, and the results of the incident are important to the declaration of the threat of the creatures. We only have your word for it that the forty missing have not simply left for a holiday.”
“The claws of the larger creature caught me across the spine and cut through the edge of my sled. I was in pieces, held together by the front of my body. As I lay there, I got cold. It filled my body and replaced my blood. I screamed at the creature and emitted a jet of what appears to be a nitrogen derivative. I screamed again, and the arm shattered, causing the creature and its smaller companion to run for the woods. My dog team returned to me, and I rolled into the cargo space. They ran me home where my mother helped me, and when my father came home, he had my outerwear, shredded and bloody. My beast woke that day, and she put me back together.”
She looked at the defense counsel. “I am a dragon. I wasn’t, and now I am.”
He blinked and swallowed. “I see. So, do you feel the trauma of the shift was what caused you to hallucinate the creatures?”
She looked at the prosecutor, and he reached into a box and pulled out her fur and leather coat. “The blood on that coat is mine. It was blood from a human. The blood at the edges of the cuts is also mine. It is the blood of the awoken dragon. Now, how could I be human and then dragon, with only a large slash that cut through my flesh on my back? I have scars to prove it. They are faint but still visible.”
“I would like to see those,” the judge murmured. “If you would like privacy to display them?”
“No need.” Kabyl turned her back to the judge and peeled up the back of her tunic to her shoulders.
“Do they hurt?”
“No, your honour. They are just very shiny.”
“Thank you, Cadet Ambermarle.” The judge cleared her throat. “Defense, continue your queries.”
Kabyl had to explain about the medallions, the mage consultation, and working with the diamond dragon to find the source. The mineral maps were the key, and they all connected with the center of activity.
“How did you gain access to the mineral claim maps? Aren’t they kept under lock and key?”
She nodded grimly. “They would have been if the keyholder wasn’t among the missing. Another welfare check led to the building, and there were public records. As the keyholder was not there, I opened the files and confirmed that the defendant had applied for mining rights to the areas where the creatures had been neutralized.”
There was more yammering back and forth while she filled in the details, and when the defense rested, the prosecutor stood up. “Your honour, may I ask a final question?”
The defense frowned but shrugged. “No objection.”
“Cadet Ambermarle, how can you be so certain that those townsfolk were murdered? How can you know for certain that they didn’t go south for a mid-season vacation, as the defense alleges?”
Kabyl nodded. “That is an easy answer. We don’t have roads. Our location is northern, and we have no roads. We use dogsleds for most winter transport, and a family of three would need to borrow resources as well as get delivered a few hundred kilometers south, and that person would then have to return home. To put it simply. The people were missing, the dogs were missing, the sleds were intact along with all necessary supplies and outerwear.”
“So, there was no way of them leaving the area without notice?”
“No. Not unless a dragon took them, and I hadn’t transformed yet.” She smiled. “Before you ask. There were no flying dragons in the vicinity. The only way in or out was via ground transport... and those folks were—for the most part—in the general store the week before they disappeared.” She dragged in a deep breath. “It was twenty percent of our community that suddenly disappeared at the claws of those creatures.”
“Thank you, Cadet Ambermarle. No further questions.”
The judge cleared her throat, and Kabyl actually looked at her. There were familiar features in that face. “Thank you, Cadet Ambermarle.”
A little confused, Kabyl followed the bailiff to the side exit, and the next witness was called.
She was taken out to the karros that had brought her. She sat in the passenger area, and the vehicle drove off, taking her back to the Tals’ home.
She was driven to the house, and the door was held for her. She stepped out, and Creata smiled from the doorway with Amesthet waving cheerfully at her.
Creata smiled. “Lunch is ready. The judge’s office called to warn us.”
“Yeah. I am not quite sure why that happened.” Kabyl was still working over her shock at the familiarity of the judge. The judge was a dead ringer for her mother.
“Judge Cornish is going to come for afternoon tea.”
Kabyl was nervous. “Can she do that during a trial?”
“The trial is over. He was sentenced to death while you were being driven over.”
Kabyl blinked. “Ah. Right. I guess that is appropriate.”
“Come in. We can have some tea, and you can relax.”
Kabyl paused. “Would you show me how to weld?”
“What?”
“Welding. Most of our stuff is natural fibers. Metal is a rarity. We don’t have much chance to use it.”
Creata’s eyes began to glow with excitement. “Come with me.”
What followed was three hours of working with the scent of metal in her nostrils and her dragon cooling the metal as they finished the welds. When Creata finally tapped her on the shoulder, Kabyl was covered in grime and sweat. Welding was fun, and the base for a sled was already mostly done.
“Come on. The judge is here.”
Kabyl nodded and removed the protective leather coat she was wearing, washing her face in the basin that Creata had standing by.
She walked out with her new friend and noted the table that had been set in the garden. There was a tower of plates, a larger version of the ones at the teahouse. Creata smiled. “I will leave you to the judge.”
“I... can you stay?”
Creata paused and then nodded. “I will be back in a moment. I just need to order some more tea.”
Amesthet barreled toward them, and Kabyl picked her up.
Creata smiled. “She will help to be a mediator for you. She’s good at that. I will be with you soon.”
Kabyl inhaled and exhaled, turned, and walked toward the judge with the baby in her arms.
“Judge Cornish.” She inclined her head.
“Cadet Kabyl Ambermarle. Huh. You are taller than I imagined.” The judge was sitting straight, her hair up in a twist, and the business dress she was wearing was crisp and suited her.
“Well, my mother is very short.”
The judge smiled. “Yes. She always was petite. Sit.”
Kabyl arranged the youngest member of the Tal family. “Have you met Amesthet?”
“The Tals’ daughter? I have heard about her.” The judge eyed the little girl. “She looks healthy.”
“She is.”
“Do you want to have children?” The judge said it just as Creata arrived. “Ah, she called in reinforcements.”
Creata poured for them. “She has had an eventful few days, aside from being in peacekeeper training. If she would like a witness, I am here.”
The judge smiled. “Very well.”
Kabyl looked at the toddler. “I think I might. I have not met anyone that I am currently sexually interested in, though.�
��
The judge blinked. “That is blunt.”
“My parents have raised me to believe that life is short, and the best thing you can do is be honest with others and yourself.”
Judge Cornish smirked. “That sounds like your father.”
“My mom believes it, too. She has recently told me that no matter how tempting it is to let a lie masquerade as the truth, it will bite you in the ass when you least expect it.” Kabyl gave her a bland look.
“So, you know.” There was awareness in her eyes.
Kabyl nodded. “I know. I know Mom is a half-dragon, and my biological father is a full dragon who decided that a halfling wasn’t his style.”
The judge exhaled with deep sadness. “I never meant to push her into that relationship.”
Creata was nibbling at a sandwich with wide eyes. Amesthet wiggled and hit the ground running.
“But, you did, she did, and he did.” She chuckled. “I have to thank you. If you hadn’t pushed that hard, my mother wouldn’t have been sobbing, and my father wouldn’t have stopped to help a lady in distress. It all worked out, and I wouldn’t trade a minute with them for the world.”
“I am sorry that I have never managed to visit.”
Kabyl smiled. “I don’t think that the rustic charms of home would have much appeal for you. You seem like a city lady.”
The judge blinked. “I will have you know, I have done wilderness training.”
Kabyl looked her over. “Yes, Judge.”
Creata poured tea and looked at Kabyl. “Tea?”
Smiling, Kabyl took it, and she sipped slowly.
The judge took her cup, and they sat, dueling cups, one sip at a time. It was an awkward silence. Manners were firmly in control. Kabyl smiled. Now, she knew where she got her glare.
Chapter Eight
“So, a peacekeeper. Don’t you want to join the dragons here in the capital?”
Kabyl shook her head. “No. I don’t. I grew up in a small town, a tiny village, actually. Serving a community has a lot more appeal than just sitting around here and joining society. I am not designed for society. I am designed for the wilderness.”
“You are my granddaughter; your biological father is a member of the senate guard. You were born to live here.”
“No, I was born in a wooden building, on a quilt, with my community around me helping my mother and father to welcome me.” She smiled. “I have a small pack of dogs, with puppies expected in the spring. I have friends, family, and hobbies. I am not suited to the city. It is far too noisy.”
“You will have to come in for court cases if you choose the path of peacekeeper.” Her grandmother smiled in triumph.
“Maybe, or maybe I can send my partner. He is far more suited to answering annoying questions.”
Her grandmother stared. “Partner? You have a partner? Does your mother know?”
Kabyl covered her eyes as she laughed. “Yes, she knows. He was brought to me by the diamond dragon. She enlisted someone to assist in the more practical applications of my human manifestation of my dragon’s skills.”
Her grandmother paused. “You can manifest while human?”
Kabyl mimicked lobbing a ball toward one of the buildings, and a snowball thudded lightly into the wall. “Like that.”
Creata snickered. “She also made that snowman over there for my daughter.”
“You manifest snow?” The judge seemed to be having trouble with the idea.
Kabyl chuckled. “Would you just like to see me?”
The judge’s eyes got shiny. “If it isn’t inconvenient.”
She got up and walked a decent distance away from the table and made sure that Amesthet was nowhere to be seen. She let her dragon out, and when she was finished, she looked over at her grandmother and lowered her head.
“Oh, Kabyl. You are gorgeous.”
Kabyl inclined her head in acknowledgment. The judge reached out to touch her, and she drew her hand back. “You are cold!”
Kabyl’s dragon laughed. It was a strange honking sound, very like a swan.
She flexed her wings outward and let her grandmother look, the sun was bright, and rainbows were cast around the yard. Kabyl folded her wings in and resumed her human shape.
“Sorry, but I am wilting Creata’s flowers.”
The blooming shrubs near her had the edge of frost that she was associating with her own presence.
The judge stood there with tears in her eyes. “You are stunning.”
Creata was still at the table, and Amesthet was clapping with her pudgy little hands, her eyes wide and shining. That was the audience she was glad she had impressed.
“Well, I wouldn’t have been if that creature hadn’t nearly sliced me in half.” Kabyl smiled. Her back flared with the memory of the pain. It was going to be annoying when she got older.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I am sure you would have transformed eventually. You just needed a female dragon to coax you out.”
Kabyl looked at her. “I had one to help with the transformation. What I believe triggered me was the strike of magic against my skin. Or into it. It was a rather strong hit.”
Her grandmother tightened her lips. “I saw the jacket. It was your blood.”
“Oh. Yes. There is a lot more of it waiting to soak into the soil when the thaw comes. A bright streak against the snow. Rather pretty if I do say so myself.”
“How did you survive the massive blood loss?”
Kabyl smiled and tapped her collarbone. “She saved me. She cooled me down, slowed my heart, and let me fight long enough to get away. She’s surprisingly scrappy. We get along pretty well.”
The judge nodded. There was silence again.
Creata called, “We have some fresh sandwiches.”
It was a good distraction.
They were seated when Trin came into the garden, and Amesthet beat feet to get to her. She blurred across the ground and clung to her aunty. The diamond dragon walked toward them with the little girl held on her hip.
“Ah, Judge Cornish. You are looking rather bright this afternoon.”
The judge jumped to her feet and bowed low. “Madam Lem. You have surprised me.”
“I do that to a lot of people. So, I see you have met Kabyl.”
“Yes, my granddaughter is quite the young lady.” Judge Cornish smiled.
Trin paused. “Oh. Right. I just thought that you had met via the mentorship program I am working on.”
Kabyl clarified, “So, you didn’t know.”
“I knew that your grandmother was Urala Cornish. I just hadn’t connected that with Judge Cornish. In my mind, they are two very different people.”
Kabyl very much doubted that Trin had confused the status of the woman in front of her.
When Trin put Amesthet down, her hand was grabbed, and she was hauled to the edge of the yard where the snowman was duly worshiped.
The judge asked, “You made a snowman?”
“Yeah.” Kabyl grinned.
“When?”
“Last night. I made sure it will melt slowly. I could probably have a good job in food storage.” She chuckled.
The judge blinked. “Ah. You are making a joke.”
“Yes. As much fun as it would be to make frozen statuary for parties, I feel that my skills would be better used serving a community.” She looked around and wrinkled her nose. “It is also too warm here for me.”
The judge’s mouth opened, closed with a snap, and understanding dawned. “Your dragon...”
“Was probably activated by accident. She came on using our surroundings as her manifestation. We are both learning about the frost.” Kabyl shrugged. “In a normal situation, I would have gone on to join the peacekeepers with my normal human skills, and from there, I would have become a peacekeeper somewhere quiet and remote.”
“That is what you want? A life of service?” Judge Cornish looked frustrated.
“Of course, but what you don’t see is that peacekeepers can have
families, friends, social groups, and still do their jobs. Our community is our family, and we take it seriously.”
“Your father taught you that.”
“My parents taught me that. My mom is in the hub of our little community, everyone talks to her, chats with her. She knows who is pregnant, who just lost a relative, who is travelling, and who got a perfect score on their test.” She grinned. “My mom has a lot of fun, but she still hasn’t managed to learn how to cook. Thankfully, my appetite before I left meant that even poached toast and scorched eggs couldn’t subdue me.”
Judge Cornish blushed. “Yes, she never had any skill in the kitchen. I always just thought she would marry well. Her embroidery was excellent, as were her math skills. She was perfect to be a wife and mother.”
“Yeah, she is. She’s a perfect wife and mother.” Kabyl smiled. “She is also an excellent store manager and an interesting substitute teacher.”
Her grandmother got a funny expression on her face. “She teaches?”
“Now and then. She does a frenzy of study on the subject, and when the questions come, she is ready for anything. It was a bit of a nightmare when it was sex ed, but she did a very good job. I, however, died internally with every pointed question.”
There was a snort, and Creata was looking away with a focus on her daughter playing with Trin in one of the distant trees.
“So, she’s actually happy?”
“She is. You should come for a visit. We have the room.” She smiled.
“Ah, I was going to visit, but then, I heard you had entered training.” The judge scowled. “I decided to remain here until you returned home, and we could have a proper visit.”
“Yeah, I had heard that, but the application for training had already been issued. When they said yes, there was no way I was going to stay home.”
Her grandmother’s lips curved in a wry grin. “I wouldn’t have passed it up either.”
Kabyl extended her hand. “I believe I need to return to the training course. I am glad that we met. Oh, isn’t there a conflict of interest in your being a judge where I am a witness?”
“No. You were not the injured party, and as we have never met, I had no bias toward your testimony, aside from already knowing that you take the law and testimony very seriously.” The judge took her hand.