Mist, Murder & Magic

by Dionnara Dawson

  Tommy stood a little straighter. ‘I can do that.’

  An hour later, Piper had made her calls, Tommy and Tahlia had gathered the council members (after convincing them that it was worth their time on this busy day), and Hella had gathered their allies. They all stood in the Witches’ Wares store in the adjoining room, the sliding doors open. Before they’d made it here, Hella had texted Net to let him know what was going on and asked him to close the store.

  This room wasn’t made to hold over twenty people, but Hella had arrived early to conjure comfortable chairs and temporarily vanish the couches and armchairs that usually decorated the room. Harrow would arrive soon, and they had their audience.

  There were eight council members, four on each side of the room to mark their Houses. Hella noticed they each wore the coloured robes of their Families to commemorate the trial. It made her nervous. There were also respected members of their community who had agreed to speak on Harrow’s behalf.

  The council members—including Melvin Ventus, who had moved his chair to sit next to his daughter as though he were an active member—didn’t look entirely happy to be here. In fact, most of them looked put out to say the least.

  ‘Young lady, I don’t appreciate you summoning us this way. Just because you are the promised witch, doesn’t give you the right.’ It was Melvin, of course, who had spoken.

  Hella stood before them all, alone on the floor. Tommy sat by Tahlia and they both stared back at her with friendly green eyes. Hella knew she had to be careful how she played this. Afterall, she needed to avoid incriminating herself in the destruction of Warlock House.

  ‘Sir, you have my apologies, but it was of the utmost importance that we meet. I understand that you are all busy and concerned following yesterday’s events, but this could not wait. As you all know, my name is Hella Corvime, and, as you said, I am the promised witch. Here, today, I stand before you—with members of the community and council alike on my side—to put forth the release and pardon of Harrow Nympha for his alleged crimes.’

  The Mettalum council member, Leo’s uncle, John, had pledged his allegiance to their cause, as well as Harrow’s own aunt, Nellie—who, to Hella’s surprise, she had never heard of. The Fae, however, had pledged nothing. Meele, Tessa and Hunter sat before her, but had been unable to elicit any promises from their council.

  Melvin looked like a chicken with ruffled feathers. ‘How dare you—’

  ‘Oh, do shut up, father,’ Julie said. There were several gasps in the crowd and others simply covered their shocked faces, hiding smiles.

  Melvin rounded on his daughter, who simply held up her hand to silence him. The power, it seemed, had fallen to her.

  ‘I have had a lengthy discussion with Tahlia’—whom Julie glanced at—‘and she came to us, before the demonic attack on London, if you remember. She tried to warn us, and we blindly turned her away. We were wrong, just like I believe we are wrong to condemn one of our own to having his magic removed. I’ve always been opposed to that, if I’m to be honest. Right now, our House is in chaos, and we are thankful to the Faerie House for their hospitality. They are valued allies.’ She looked directly at Hella. ‘You, witch, could be a powerful ally too, and I believe we will need all the allies we can get in the days to come. I see no reason to condemn the boy if it will endanger our relationship with you.’

  Hella let herself breathe a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, Julie of House Ventus. I greatly appreciate your support—’

  ‘One of your warlocks, a Mettalum, died in the collapse of your House,’ a faerie said sharply. ‘One of ours, our Sana, is still missing. You, yourself were attacked, I believe, by the Nympha in question, and Tessa Mea was nearly killed in the process too.’ Hella could see that the faerie’s eyes flared indigo. He was Anima Mea, the same as Tessa. ‘The Nympha should be punished for his crimes.’

  Hella opened her mouth to protest, but Tessa stood up so fast her chair rocked back. She looked at Hella for a moment, as if for courage, then rounded on the faerie.

  ‘No, he shouldn’t,’ Tessa snapped, sharp and certain for someone so young. ‘It wasn’t his fault. He never would have done that if he’d had his soul. It wasn’t really him.’

  ‘Soul or not, it was he who committed those crimes, he who almost killed you, no one else,’ the indigo-eyed faerie said under Tessa’s glare.

  ‘Charlie, no,’ Tessa snapped to him. ‘I appreciate you trying to defend me, but it wasn’t him.’

  Piper sat to the side of Tommy. ‘Why don’t we test him?’

  The council members deliberated quietly among themselves for a moment. Hella’s chest tightened. The Nympha, Nellie, cleared her throat. ‘Summon my nephew,’ she said, her voice shaking but loud. ‘Bring him here for the witch to test.’

  ‘Is there a common witches’ spell to test for the previous absence of a soul?’ Charlie Mea asked dryly. His face was smooth and cold, clean-shaven and tight-looking.

  ‘I’m no common witch,’ Piper answered. ‘Bring him here. I’ll test him.’

  Julie Ventus nodded, and it seemed that was that. ‘Bring him,’ she said.

  One warlock and one faerie rose from their seats and exited. While they waited, Hella leaned toward Piper.

  ‘Are you sure you can prove he had no soul?’ Hella asked quietly.

  Piper lay a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. ‘I can, but it won’t be pleasant for him.’

  Hella felt her heart constrict, the way she had come to associate with Harrow being in danger or hurt. ‘What do you—’

  Melvin cleared his throat and his Ventus-white gaze landed on Nellie. ‘Is it true that your nephew left your Home at a young age?’ he asked sharply.

  ‘He did,’ Nellie admitted. She shared a similar colouring to her nephew: raven-black hair, though hers was greying at the temples, and blue eyes, though they were not so bright as Harrow’s. ‘But that happens sometimes.’ She looked uncomfortable, as if Harrow leaving made her feel bad.

  It should, Hella thought, a sudden pang of anger at his aunt. Why hadn’t she been there for him?

  ‘I heard he stabbed a human,’ Melvin pressed. ‘It would seem his darkness precedes any soullessness.’ Melvin turned to Hella. ‘And, may I ask how he happened to lose his soul in the first place?’

  Hella tried not to shrink under his gaze. ‘It was an accident—’

  ‘It was an effect from an angel-blast during the battle,’ Piper said over her. ‘Couldn’t be helped. He dove in front of Hella, to save her, and the angel plunged a feather through his chest. Angels have rare and unknowable powers,’ she added mysteriously.

  Melvin glanced to Tommy. ‘You were there, boy. Is that true?’

  Hella would never have asked Tommy to lie outright to the council, during a trial nonetheless, but now put on the spot, he was steely-eyed and straight-backed. ‘Yes,’ he said, without pause or inflection.

  Before Melvin could interrogate them further, Harrow was escorted inside by the warlock and faerie Julie had ordered to retrieve him. Hella tried to catch his eye, but they were downcast.

  ‘The accused,’ Melvin said, gesturing to Harrow. This time Harrow wore metal handcuffs, his hands clasped together in front of him. There was still a hole in the shoulder of his black shirt where the metal rod had stuck through him from the building collapse. There was a shadow across his jaw where he hadn’t shaved. Harrow was silent as he took in his sombre surroundings.

  They unbound him, much to Hella’s relief. Piper approached him. ‘We’re going to prove you lost your soul,’ she told him evenly.

  A deep scowl crested Melvin’s face as he glowered down at Harrow. ‘You despicable little brat. You’ve destroyed our House, killed an innocent Mettalum guard, and tried to murder a faerie girl, not to mention the promised witch!’ he said furiously, venom in his voice.

  ‘And a guard from The Force,’ Julie added.

  ‘And, yes, of course, the guard too,’ Melvin said. ‘Bow
before your council!’

  Harrow looked carefully at each of the eight council members. There was no snark written on his face, just fatigue and pain. To each member, he bowed his head a little in respect, but then he saw Tessa. He still hadn’t spoken. It was the first time Hella realised Harrow was choosing his words carefully. He walked up to Tessa and got to his knees before her. ‘Forgive me, Tessa, I was not myself. I never meant you any harm.’ He looked right into her sparkling indigo eyes.

  Tessa wrapped her arms around Harrow’s neck. ‘It’s okay. I know,’ she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Julie Ventus’s white-grey eyebrows rose, a smirk of amusement on her lips.

  Harrow turned to Hella and simply shook his head in dismay. ‘I wish I could take it back. So whatever punishment you have in store for me, I will gladly accept as my fate.’ He hung his head.

  ‘Well, first thing’s first,’ Piper said. She looked up to Julie and raised a blue-shining athame, the metal coloured to enhance Piper’s chakras. ‘Your soul is the essence of you, and you have it back now. What we have to do is prove that you didn’t have it, in the past.’

  Piper beckoned Hella forward. ‘When Harrow Nympha wrapped his hands around my daughter, choking her, he had no soul.’ She told the gathered Cambions, who all looked varyingly dubious. Hella suspected that this was not normally how their trials went. Piper gestured for Harrow to hold out his hands, and quickly, one after the other, Piper stabbed into his palms, dark-blue blood flowing. Harrow gasped, his blue eyes wide, and tried to draw away, but Piper wouldn’t let him.

  Hella stood by his side now, watching Piper work. The older witch sheathed her weapon and used her bare hands to get some of Harrow’s blood on her fingers. Hella watched as he tried not to wince.

  Then, to Hella’s surprise, Piper approached her and—without warning—smeared Harrow’s blue blood all over her throat. Hella’s nose scrunched up a bit, but she remained still, trusting in her new mother. ‘Watch,’ was all Piper told the crowd.

  They all eyed the spectacle and then grew restless. Hella reached up, sticking her fingers to the blood. It came away black. Piper nodded. ‘This proves that, at the time of the attack, Harrow Nympha had no soul, his intentions were not of sound mind and body and therefore he should be absolved of his sins.’

  Melvin looked unimpressed. ‘Parlour tricks, witch!’ He scowled. The warlock climbed down from his seat, away from Julie—who did, in fact, look rather impressed—and strode over to Hella. He inspected her now-blackened throat and scoffed, then approached Harrow. He smacked Harrow clear across the face with the crack of his hand. Hella was by his side the next second, pushing him away.

  ‘How dare you?’ she yelled at him, then immediately turned to Harrow.

  ‘That’s not the first time he’s done that,’ Harrow muttered, only loud enough for Hella to hear. She had her hands on his shoulders. His cheek reddened brightly.

  Hella turned swiftly on her heel, her gaze fixed on Julie. ‘You dare let your father assault him? He’s innocent.’

  Julie looked embarrassed but regained her composure quickly. Hella noticed that no one else had jumped to Harrow’s defence, but Tommy looked murderous. Tahlia cast her eyes to the ground.

  Julie took a pensive pause, then looked down at Melvin. ‘Your actions are inappropriate for a trial, father. Temper yourself.’ Then, to Hella, she said, ‘Harrow is still on trial, Hella. He has not been proven innocent, and since this case has no precedents, I am inclined to put it to a vote by the council as to his guilt, or lack thereof. Our House is gone, a warlock is dead. Tessa Mea was attacked, and you, yourself, were almost killed, as well as the human. I don’t know if I’m to include Amara’s disappearance in this list, but our only healer—in a town filled with injured Cambions—is missing. Harrow, whatever the case, you will be put on trial for these crimes.’

  Hella’s mouth fell open. ‘But the spell Piper just did—’

  ‘Could have been manufactured, altered, or an illusion for all we know,’ Julie said. She sounded almost apologetic. ‘We are warlocks and faeries, Hella, witches’ magic is not well-known to us, and we won’t change our laws for it. Harrow’s fate will be put to a vote, majority ruling.’ She cast a glance to her father. ‘Official council members only, of course.’

  That was something, Hella thought, but her stomach still sank. After all they had been through in Valhalla… would it really come down to this? She looked around the room as people quickly talked among themselves, deliberating what their vote would be. Hella could not let this happen. She squeezed Harrow’s hand—he squeezed back tightly—then pulled Piper aside.

  ‘What do we do?’ she hissed.

  Piper shook her head. ‘I don’t know, I’m sorry. If they vote for the ceremony, I don’t think we can do anything.’

  ‘That is not good enough,’ Hella said, her voice low.

  Before Piper could say anything, Tommy rushed over to them. He looked from Piper to Hella. ‘I think I have a bad idea.’

  ‘I’m all ears,’ Hella said.

  ‘The bad news is, if they vote for it, we have to let him do the ceremony.’ When Hella looked as though she would attack Tommy, he raised his hand. ‘No, no, but after that, we—’ He was cut off and ordered back to his place for the vote. He barely had time to lean in to whisper into Hella’s ear. ‘I have a plan. Trust me.’

  It was only then that Harrow’s head snapped up at the entrance of two people: a man and a woman. Without ever having met them before, Hella knew who they were, both by their Nympha colouring, and Harrow’s reaction to them. There was surprise, but most importantly, resentment and anger. These were Harrow’s parents, come to watch his trial—at the last minute, mind you.

  Julie nodded to them, and they sat to the side, near Nellie who ignored them. ‘Harrow Nympha, you are currently on trial for two counts of murder, two counts of attempted murder, and the destruction of Warlock House. To these charges, what do you plead?’

  Harrow looked at Hella. His eyes were slit, but hard as glass. ‘Guilty.’

  ‘No,’ Hella breathed, covering her mouth. He was protecting her.

  Julie nodded solemnly. ‘I see. Then, how does Faerie council vote?’

  There were four faeries on the council: Charlie Mea, who had reprimanded him earlier, scowled, and was the first to speak. ‘Guilty,’ he said, and Harrow flinched.

  The other three had been silent until now. Hella knew that faeries lived longer, and she wondered if they listened more than they spoke, measuring the situation and gaining the facts before judging. In their elongated lives, Hella hoped the others would have mercy.

  The male faerie with golden colouring, deep sand-coloured hair, and tanned skin, could be related to Meele. Indeed, Meele looked back at him. ‘Semmon,’ she said quietly.

  Semmon Scire looked at little Tessa—who shook her head, hard—then looked at Harrow. ‘Not guilty,’ he said finally.

  There was an older woman with long, silver hair, and Hella suspected she was related to Amara. She glared at Harrow, her grey eyes cold as flint. ‘Guilty.’ Harrow bit his lip.

  The final faerie was a Sensus, and Hella had no idea which way they would swing. The woman had long, pink hair, her face pale and impassive.

  ‘Gretta, don’t,’ Tessa said, pleading.

  Gretta Sensus took a deep breath. It looked like she wanted to ask him a question. She stood up from her chair and approached him. Julie blinked at this interruption, but said nothing.

  The Sensus faerie approached Harrow and stared at him. Hella then realised that she must be inside his mind. Perhaps she was trying to determine his guilt or remorse. Harrow looked ashen, then nodded slightly up at her—the woman was at least two heads taller than he—and she looked satisfied as she returned to her seat. ‘Not guilty,’ she said firmly. That was two for, two against.

  Hella had a sudden thought. What if it ended in a tie? What would Julie vote?

  Julie cleared her th
roat nervously. ‘Faerie House have cast their votes. Warlock House.’

  Tahlia Terra stood up. ‘This is an appalling practice, the Imperium Ceremony: cutting out a warlock’s own magic, it’s blasphemy and it’s cruel. I say this council has no business taking part in such a thing.’

  ‘You’re in no position to start ignoring the laws you dislike, Terra,’ Melvin spat.

  ‘Unfortunately, he’s right, Tahlia. It’s the law and that’s not about to change. Not today. Cast your vote, and take your seat,’ Julie said.

  ‘Not guilty,’ Tahlia said, venom in her voice. ‘Unlike the rest of you.’

  Hella admired her spirit, but worried it would get her into trouble.

  Next was Harrow’s own aunt. As she opened her mouth, Harrow’s father, whose name Hella didn’t know, grabbed her arm and whispered angrily in her ear. Nellie elbowed him away. ‘Not guilty,’ she said firmly.

  John Mettalum got to his feet. He had promised them mercy on Harrow’s behalf. The warlock approached Harrow, his expression grim. Before anyone could stop him, he used his gift to summon one of Piper’s blades, and swiped down Harrow’s cheek with it. Harrow stumbled back, his eyes wide.

  ‘I wanted to spare you, when Hella approached me, I said I would. Cutting out a warlock’s magic is, indeed, blasphemy. But you murdered my son,’ John said, shaking. ‘That boy, your guard. His name was Blane, did you know that?’

  No one stepped between them but Hella. She raised her hands. ‘Get away from him.’ Her magic flickered, a warning. ‘You have your vote, cast it. But he didn’t know what he was doing. He did not mean to hurt your son.’

  Hella watched as the warlock dropped the blade, now stained dark-blue, and returned to his chair. ‘Guilty as hell,’ John said, his eyes burning. Leo’s obsidian eyes were filled with pain and sadness. Hella wondered how he felt about Harrow now that he knew what he’d done. If he would still have carried Harrow out of the building in his arms and tended to his wounds.

  Hella sighed and turned to pick Harrow up off his feet. He was shaking. His cheek now sported a cut. Blue blood dripped down his neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and his voice cracked.