by Andy Hyland
“Oh, who are you kidding? It always works out well for you. All I’m asking is that you pass some of that luck onto little old me. You can’t go back on it. It’s a deal.”
I let it go. No point arguing with her. “How long do you think we’re going to be here?” Arabella asked.
“Oh not very long at all,” said a new voice from the darkness. We jumped up, ready to fight or run all over again, even if our bodies were screaming at us to just sit down and do nothing. A figure was back away from the rim in the shadows, leaning against the stone wall of the great arch that we’d entered by.
It pushed away from the wall and strode forward. I called up a wisp and pushed it forward, but I needn’t have bothered. The man dismissed it with a wave of his hand, and called up a brighter, larger light, apparently without any effort at all. He was tall and wore a long blue coat buttoned to his neck. Blonde hair was swept back on his head. His face was unnaturally smooth and he had, of course, bright blue eyes.
“Great,” muttered Arabella. It had come to something when you were as sick of seeing the Host as you were of encountering demons.
“I’ll take that as a bright and breezy hello,” the man said. “I know who you all are, of course, though what you’re doing hanging around with her,” he nodded at Stacey, “I’m not sure. Still, your choice, for now. I am Kushiel. I’ll be carrying out the interrogation at the hearing. Just wanted to see what I was dealing with before we started. I was curious.”
“Interrogation?” asked Zack.
“Oh, don’t be nervous,” said Kushiel. “Think of it as a formal questioning if you like. Nothing to worry about at all. We just need to extract all relevant information before you’re executed. That’s where I come in. I have a…knack for uncovering the truth of things, getting to the bottom of people.”
“So it’s just a day at the office for you,” Arabella said bitterly.
Kushiel looked shocked at this. “Good Lord, no, child. This entire enterprise of yours was highly irregular. My work is clandestine, for the most part. Special projects. It’s only in exceptional circumstances that I’m called here. The occasion demands that the proper rituals occur. All the best people are going to be present.”
“Well that makes us feel so much better,” I said.
He turned his eyes on me. “I’m so glad. I expect you’ll go out with a mocking smile on your face. The great disappointment, finally brought to a fitting conclusion, as it should have been so long ago.”
“Have we met?” I asked quietly.
“No. Not until now. But there are many of us who have taken a particular interest in you. And now the majority of us are going to be proved right. So my time won’t have been completely wasted.”
“How long are we going to be in here?” Zack asked, eyeing me warily and deciding it was time to change the subject.
“I don’t see any reason why you can’t come with me now. The preparations are nearly complete. You can wait upstairs, have a look around, refresh yourselves one last time.”
I looked at the others. It wasn’t a great offer, but if the alternative was being down here then there was no contest. “Fine by us,” I said. “Quick question before we go. The protection runes, or whatever you’ve got down here, aren’t covering the three of us. Any idea why that is?” To demonstrate, I reached over and slapped Zack round the back of the head.
Kushiel raised an eyebrow. “Odd. Probably an admin error. You know how things slip a bit when you’re busy. No sin, no foul. Ready? This way then.”
He led off and we followed. Stacey tried to slip in behind us but found her path blocked by an invisible ward across the archway. “You remember me, Malachi English,” she called out. “We’ve got a deal. I’m relying on you.”
“Oh dear,” said Kushiel, looking back at me and grinning. “She seems to have rather misplaced her trust, wouldn’t you say?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Without glancing at a map, chart, or visibly drawing on any magic, Kushiel led us unerringly through the labyrinth of arches and back to the long, steep stone stairway that we’d originally descended. I had to blink as we walked upwards, gradually getting used to a normal level of light again. My legs were complaining but I told them to shut up, because this was progress. Of a sort.
Six guards fell into step as we got back to ground level, two for each of us. They didn’t take our arms but walked closely. “Is this necessary?” I asked one of them. “What do you think we’re going to do, make a break for it?” He didn’t answer, and neither did Kushiel.
We progressed through a series of architecturally splendid hallways, all with high walls and ornate ceilings. The windows were set too far up to look out of, but let in streams of light that danced on the candelabra and other finely-crafted metalwork. Our necks became stiff from the constant gazing up and around, trying to take everything in. Let’s face it, our chances of ever making it back here again were pretty slim.
“Here,” said Kushiel, stopping halfway along a room, next to a plain wooden door. He drew a key from his belt, opened what looked like a simple lock, and waved us in. “Stay outside,” he told the guards. “I doubt we’ll need you from here.”
We walked into something that was more courtyard than room. Rough stone paving covered the square of ground, which must have been a hundred meters on each side. A panelled wooden border ran the length of the walls, draped at regular intervals with flags and emblems that none of us recognized. Above us there was no sign of a ceiling, just a thin curtain of mist that let through the light. But all of this was nothing to us. We only had eyes for the two figures already here.
Mercy knelt in the very center of the floor. She was clad in a long, plain white smock that ran from her neck down far enough to cover her feet. Apart from her head, only her hands were showing. These were bound in silver manacles, and held in front of her. A thick silver band also wrapped around her neck, and four taut chains ran out from it to where they were fixed to large iron hoops, holding her firmly in place. She was kneeling, with her eyes closed, and her face was covered with bruises.
A little away from her, on a simple wooden stool, sat Liberty, the only human in the Union that I had any time for, still in his brown coat, but holding his hat, letting his rusty curled hair fall loose. Mercy didn’t move or open her eyes, but he looked up at us as we entered. Then he stood, waiting as we walked over.
“She is still silent?” asked Kushiel.
“What have you done?” said Arabella, sounding like she was on the brink of tears. I put a hand on her arm and pulled her back slightly. The last thing this situation needed was Arabella Duval losing her temper.
“No, she hasn’t spoken,” said Liberty, bitterness dripping from his voice. “Your boys really did a number on her. When did hitting women suddenly become acceptable to you?”
Kushiel folded his arms and fixed Liberty with a long stare. “It is not a woman. It has not been a woman for some months now. You know this. It is a tool, an implement. And when such a tool turns against those who seek to wield it, then there is no further use for it, save finding out how such a situation occurred.”
“She has a name,” insisted Liberty.
“Ah yes, it took the name Mercy. Tell that to the woman whose family was destroyed. Or the young minister, and those who loved and valued him, and those in the future who would have benefited from his work. It is best that we forget that such a name was ever chosen. This will be over soon. But the covenant demands formalities, and so formalities we shall have.”
“What happens now?” I asked.
“We will be ready in a matter of hours,” said Kushiel. “I myself, as the Bringer of Charges and Seeker of Truth, must wait in the chamber of solitude until I am called, seeking His will, should he decide to speak. All a formality, of course. The covenant has already expressly laid out the penalties, and the evidence cannot be refuted or gainsaid.”
“So this is what justice looks like?” Zack whispered.
Kus
hiel looked over at him. “Yes, it is. Which part of it do you take issue with? On which particular issue do you think our actions are unfounded? And that you have been wronged?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but there was nothing to say, so I shut it again. Truth was, they had us bang to rights. We’d done everything they said we had. The covenant didn’t mean anything to me, but even leaving it aside, we’d left a trail of dead behind us, and one of them was a kid even younger than Charlie. No, we’d screwed up, and we couldn’t argue otherwise.
“We shall meet in the great chamber,” Kushiel said, as he walked to a door on the far side. “Use your time wisely. It is nearly at an end.”
The door clicked shut behind him and there was absolute silence in the room. I looked at Liberty. He turned and walked away, speaking as he went. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t know a damn thing about this and I certainly didn’t go blabbing to the powers that be. You’ll have to look elsewhere if you want to scream blue blazes at someone.”
“To be honest, I don’t think I feel like screaming,” I told him. “Why are you here then? You up for the chop too?”
“Only in an official capacity. The severance package will be less than generous, and I’m not expecting any sort of reference to be included.”
“What are you doing here then?”
He nodded at Mercy. “I’m her counsel.”
“So you’re defending her?” Zack asked. “How?”
Liberty shook his head. “There is no defense. What happened, happened, and they know all there is to know about it. I’m just here to stand with her. Until the end. And if you wish, I will stand with you as well. All of you.”
Arabella slumped down to the floor, crossing her legs and hunching over. All of a sudden she looked very young again. “So that’s it then,” she muttered. “After everything we’ve gone through, this is how we’re all going to die. Years of going toe to toe with demons, but we get put down by the angels.”
I walked over to Mercy and crouched down. “Mercy, it’s me. You still in there?” She didn’t speak or move, but a solitary tear crept out and ran down her face. I wiped it away gently.
“So what do we do?” Zack asked, looking at me.
“Nothing,” I said. “We’re at the Great Library, in the hands of the Host. And if they’ve decided to kill us, then we’ll die. Sorry, everyone.”
“Not your fault,” said Arabella. “We all went for it. And I still think we were right to do it. How could we have stopped Balam slaving off children otherwise?”
“I’m afraid that as far as Kushiel is concerned, the ends will never justify the means,” said Liberty. “He is a machine and he won’t stop until we’ve been chewed up and spat out.”
“Ah well,” said Zack, lying down on the floor and stretching out. “All in all, it’s been fun. We’ve seen some stuff, and we’ve done some truly crazy shit. And I can say with complete honesty that I’ve shared it all with some great people.”
“Me too,” I said.
“Good point. I shared it with you too.”
“Funny guy,” I said, taking a seat myself. And for however long we had, we reminisced over the old days. Demons we’d known. Demons we’d crossed. Demons we’d pissed off. We laughed bravely and wept quietly. By the time the door opened again on the far side we were pretty much ready for whatever was coming.
It was a tall guy – seriously tall, in a black robe with deathly pale skin, skeletal hands and a gleaming bald head. He said nothing, but beckoned to us, and bowed his head slightly as we approached. “It is time,” he said in little more than a whisper. “If you would please follow me.”
“What about Mercy?” I asked.
“She will be brought,” he answered, and beckoned again.
“Go. I’ll stay with her,” said Liberty.
We fell into line behind him as he led us out along a corridor, this one far less grand than the hallways that had brought us here. Stone floors and red brick walls. Strip lighting overhead. Our guide stopped at a door to the side and opened it for us. “Go straight ahead,” he said. “Go neither to the left nor the right. Kushiel is meditating in the room of solitude near here, and must not be disturbed. The chamber is at the end. You will be met there. This short journey alone offers you a final chance for prayer and contemplation. Nobody will mind if you avail yourselves of this. There is no rush.”
“Thank you,” said Arabella. “You’re very kind.”
He gave her a sad smile and another nod of the head, and once we were through he closed the door behind us.
We walked through as a group, but once the door closed I was completely alone, with nobody ahead, nobody behind and nobody beside me. The floor was gone, as were the walls and the ceiling. There was nothing anywhere but a brilliant whiteness, dazzlingly bright but at the same time easy on the eyes. I stepped forward. Nothing changed. If this was my last walk, I reflected, my last time alone before the axe fell, then this wasn’t a bad place to spend it.
I considered praying, but it seemed inappropriate. False. Disrespectful, almost. It’s not like the Big Guy wouldn’t know that I was only doing it because I was in a foxhole. No, I couldn’t bring myself to mouth the words. I was, in truth, simply too embarrassed. And there was nobody else to speak to, nobody else to call on. If what we’d been told was true – and let’s face it, why wouldn’t it be? – then somewhere around here, over to the sides, was the room of solitude, where Kushiel even now was getting his head in gear to drop the hammer on all of us. But here and now, like so many other times in life, it was me. Just me.
There was no point wasting time. I moved off at a brisk pace and before too long came to a door. White, like its surroundings, but with a gleaming gold doorknob. I twisted it and stepped through.
Back in the real world. No, strike that. Back in the more familiar settings of the Great Library. This room was covered in a plush red carpet and paneled in smooth varnished oak. Benches ran along each wall. Waiting to greet me was a tall bald man in a black robe. “Are you the same guy we just left back there?” I asked.
He shrugged and smiled. “In a manner of speaking, yes. But also no.”
“Fair enough. Don’t suppose it matters much. Mind if I take a seat?”
I dropped onto one of the benches. Zack arrived a few minutes later. Then we waited a long time for Arabella to show up. When she did, her face was puffy and splotched. Neither of us mentioned it.
“What now?” I asked the tall guy.
“It is time to progress to the chamber of judgement.”
“That’s where it all ends for us, is it?” asked Zack.
“No, certainly not. That is simply where the case is heard. You will be executed on the main floor of the Library. Such are the traditions.”
“Well we wouldn’t want to mess with those, would we?” Arabella said bitterly.
“No, certainly not,” the man agreed, misreading her tone completely.
“Fine,” I said, standing up. “If we’re going to face the music, let’s get it over with. Frankly, the suspense is killing me.”
The judgement chamber was not the most picturesque of places. It was set out like an amphitheater. In the center and at the bottom it was standing room only on a rough sand floor, and that was where we were led. Mercy was already there, unchained now, but slumped and with her head bowed. Liberty stood close to her. From our central spot, arched rows of seating led up further than we could see. Black drapes of finest silk hung down from tall pillars. Every place was taken, and a murmur rose and echoed as we entered. Endless pairs of bright blue eyes gazed down at us out of the gloom.
“Full house,” Zack said into my ear. “We’re quite the spectacle, it appears.”
“Well it would be a shame to go out leaving the audience disappointed,” I answered.
“Hey, eyes left,” said Arabella. We looked over. Julie was standing in one of the bottom rows of seating, looking like she was ready to leap over the edge and come running. But Benny was one sid
e of her and Bud, his gargantuan half-brother, was on the other. They had one of her arms each and were clearly intent on stopping her doing anything stupid. Julie was a mess, but I caught Benny’s eyes and nodded. He nodded back. No words were necessary.
“She shouldn’t have come,” I told Zack.
“You think anyone could have kept her away? Anyway, since, you know, this is it, the big one…”
“Zack, don’t do this.”
“No, I’ve got to, man. It’s been an honor, you know. More than that. It’s been my life’s honor -”
“Zack stop it, you’re embarrassing yourself.”
“I want to say something too,” said Arabella from the other side.
“Oh bloody hell, are you both intent on making me into a blubbering mess? I’m trying to man up for a heroic stand here, and nobody’s helping.”
“Well if that’s what you want, then get your game face on,” said Zack. “Looks like the judges are hitting the floor.”
Ahead of us, on a raised platform, were…well, I’m not sure. Thrones would have been the wrong word, as would chairs, or pretty much any other descriptive words I could muster. Three of them, each basic, looking like they were carved from a solid block. Gold in the center, black granite to its left, and steel to the right. Onto the platform stepped a woman with raven-black braided hair that fell to one side of her porcelain, flawless face. She moved with an easy grace and was clad from her shoulders to her boots in black leather. Twin swords crossed her back, the silver hilts gleaming.
“Tabbris,” I said, and Zack nodded in recognition.
“Thought we were on good terms with her,” said Arabella.
“I wouldn’t go that far. Better to say that we were temporarily useful to her. Which, as far as humans are concerned, is as good as I think any of us are going to get.”
“So is she going to help?” Zack asked.
One look at Tabbris’ cold blue eyes as she took her place on the steel seat was enough to dispel any hope coming from that direction. She gazed at each of us in turn, dispassionately. As she looked at Mercy and Liberty, her mouth twisted down into an unpleasant sneer. Her eyes continued along the line, pausing only as they reached me. They narrowed, and a fleeting glimpse of uncertainty ghosted across her sharp features.