by L.A. Jones
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Holy buckets,” Ross muttered as his daughter and her two companions strolled in the front door. Dax’s mouth and clothes were stained dark red with recent blood, and Roy was in his wolf form.
“Oh my,” Liza agreed.
Between the three of them, the trio carried another werewolf. Roy, on all fours, shouldered most of the burden.
“Dereck Caradoc, I presume?” Mr. Dayton asked.
Dax nodded. Roy shrugged him off his shoulders and onto the Dayton’s sofa, the same sofa upon which Aradia had only recently tossed him. Mr. Dayton wrinkled his nose. Dax interpreted that as a sign that they’d soon have a new sofa.
“You all didn’t, ah…” Ross asked.
“Kill him?” Aradia finished.
“Well…”
“No,” Mr. Dayton replied. “They did not.”
“How do you know. Can you hear his heartbeat?”
“Dead werewolves revert to their human form. If he remains a wolf, he lives.”
“Bah!” Ross replied. “I should have known that. American Werewolf in London used to be one of my favorites.”
“Um,” Liza said, not believing how cavalierly her husband was handling the situation, “what happened?”
“We let Aradia show him what happens to people when they cross her. Poor bloke never had a chance!”
Aradia smiled at him, causing Roy to growl softly. “That’s not exactly how it happened. I got by with a little help from my friends.”
Ross pulled out his phone. “This is amazing. I’m calling the police now.”
Mr. Dayton stepped forward and interrupted him, saying, “I would greatly appreciate if you held off on that for a moment.”
Ross looked at the other man. So far, he liked the vampire well enough, but his opinions could change quickly based on how this conversation played out. “Alright. Say your piece.”
“I believe we can all agree it wise to at least wait until he resumes his human form before notifying your human authorities.”
Ross chewed on that. “Yeah, yeah that’s a good point.”
“Further, though, there is a bigger picture to consider. Dereck has proven himself unpredictable and disrespectful of both human and hidden laws. Even if he were arrested, there is no guarantee that he would not simply shift again, in front of humans even.”
“I hear you,” Ross said, “and I don’t mean to disrespect your people or your customs, but I can’t let that stop me from doing my duty. We can’t just let him walk. He must stand before a court for his crimes.”
“Agreed,” Mr. Dayton said. “But what kind of court? What kind of authorities are more equipped to deal with him?”
Understanding dawned on Ross. “You’re talking jurisdiction with me?”
“After a fashion,” Mr. Dayton replied. “He has violated both human and hidden crimes, but can only be judged by one standard of justice.”
Aradia cringed. She didn’t like the idea of hidden justice.
Ross was wavering, but not completely convinced.
“There are the children to consider as well,” Mr. Dayton played his trump card.
“What do you mean?” Ross asked.
Aradia piped up, saying, “He means what I was telling you about before, the highest hidden law, remaining hidden. If Dereck tells humans about me and Roy and Dax, then the three of us could be punished.”
“Well, that isn’t justice!” Liza exclaimed.
“No, it’s not,” Aradia agreed. “It’s not justice at all. But for now, at least, it’s the way things are in hidden society.”
Ross asked, “What about us, then? All of us? Isn’t everybody in this room guilty of that same crime just by discussing this with Liza and me?”
“Your situation is a special one,” Mr. Dayton explained. “I’d have discussed this more earlier, if not for the interruption. Aradia, you are the last of your kind. As such, you find yourself in an unusual situation.”
“What kind of situation,” she asked cautiously.
“We will discuss the details at length, if you wish. Suffice to say that not all hidden rules apply quite so strongly to you as to others. You are permitted human allies who know our secrets.”
“But if Dereck started telling the world about us…”
“Not protected,” Mr. Dayton finished.
They all mulled on their options. Finally Ross spoke. “If I turn the accused over to your justice system, you give me your word he will answer for his crimes?”
“Indeed I do,” Mr. Dayton replied.
“He will be judged before some form of impartial court which will rule and issue judgment based on the merits of his case?”
“I believe it will be so.”
“That wasn’t exactly a yes.”
“No,” Mr. Dayton agreed, “it wasn’t.”
Ross sighed. “Liza, I’m about to put my phone away, but not without you agreeing with me that this is the best course.”
Liza nodded. “Aradia? What about you, honey. I think your decision’s the only one any of us should really want on this matter.”
She’d been afraid of that. She knew the human world couldn’t handle a creature like Dereck. Yet, if she threw him to the hidden world, anything could happen. She hated her options.
“Dereck is hidden,” she finally said. “He chose that life, and he chose to violate hidden laws. He did violate hidden laws, right?”
Mr. Dayton nodded.
“Alright, then. I say hidden court.”
“I will request a tribunal,” Mr. Dayton said.
“I’ll let Kaiser know his dad’s killer is getting justice,” Aradia said. Her father nodded. He was proud of her. Even now, she firmly and clearly understood that Dereck deserved justice, not vengeance.
It was late by the time they’d finished their preparations. Dereck was bound and sedated. Mr. Dayton had a veritable pharmacy in his basement. The hidden tribunal had been arranged, and as Aradia understood, representatives from all the hidden races with substantial populations in the area would be present for it.
“It will soon be dawn,” Mr. Dayton declared. “I sense it’s approach, and while I need not necessarily sleep the day, on this one I would prefer to do so.”
Ross yawned. “Yeah, I think we’re all on a vampire schedule.”
“Before you go, though, there is one final matter I wish to discuss. Aradia, there is something you must know regarding your lineage. Your heritage.”
“Is being a witch of the hidden race a bad thing?” Aradia asked.
“No,” said Mr. Dayton, “quite the contrary, it is an amazing thing. The problem is, Aradia, no one has seen a hidden witch in over three hundred years. It is common knowledge, apparently false knowledge, that all the witches were eliminated.”
“Eliminated?” Aradia repeated. “What do you mean?”
“He means genocide,” Ross said, recognizing a euphemism when he heard one.
“You know of the Salem witch trials. The victims of the trials were human, every one. The incident coincided, though, with a not-unrelated mass hysteria in the hidden world. The other hidden races at the time believed that the witches had betrayed us, and so they embarked upon the most shameful crusade the hidden world has seen. They hunted down and killed every last witch.”
“Every...” Aradia started in disbelief.
“Or so they thought,” Mr. Dayton concluded, looking directly at Aradia. All eyes in the room, in fact, rested on Aradia.
She shook her head and said, “No, surely not everyone. I mean, not everyone but me. They couldn’t. The Nazis tried this in World War II and they failed.”
“I mean no disrespect to the human race,” Mr. Dayton said, nodding toward the humans in the room, “but we of the hidden race, when we decide to do something, we do it very efficiently.”
He emphasized the word ‘very’ in a deep tone to indicate to Aradia how serious he was. Aradia did not want to believe it. Yet, Mr. Dayton wasn’t leaving
much room for ambiguity.
“But if what you say is true,” Aradia sputtered, “then wouldn't that make me...”
“Yes, Aradia. Not only are you a witch, but you are also the last of your kind. You, Aradia, are the last witch.”