I had more success with another text, The Law for the Lazy by Jessica L. Robertman whose high Charisma must have gone into her wonderful sense of humor. Somewhere through her colloquial style it all clicked, and I went for Title Seventeen: Trials.
And I was stumped again. Due to the sheer number of cases that the Law produced and that the supply of human prosecutors was limited, most trials did not have a prosecutor. Most trials—or bench-and-codes, as they were called it—involved a magistrate who listened to the human facts of the case, compared it to the Law's record and the Law itself, and then made the decision himself. A subspell of the Law collected and collated the evidence, even subpoenaing witnesses, without any human guidance.
I went for another book by Jessica L. Robertman, The Magistrate and You—How Not to Lose. Unfortunately, none of what she was saying sounded different from what Hagel had told me—down to how to say half-truths on a truth dais.
I set it down for a moment. Was it really right to try to dodge responsibility for one's actions? Yet, that was literally the point of a trial, whether by the Law or by a breathing human being. If all that mattered was whether the Law pointed a finger, and it was wrong to ever protest innocence—then why not have the Law completely automated?
The inherent contradiction between a Law that needed no human control and a Law that allowed human mercy resulted in the final series of compromises known as the Mercy Accords. Among other rights, the right to demand a purely human court was paramount in allowing the creation of the Law. — The Law, a Complete Guide.
I tried not to yawn. Then I realized I had spent the last ten minutes wandering about in philosophical musing. I looked back at Title Four, held my face, and then decided to give up. Whatever. Hagel knew what he was doing far more than I did. He must have Master Legal, like even the High Justices. No wonder he was miffed at being assigned to some minor case for some orange delvers.
As I got up from the table, the Chaotic woman looked at me with tired eyes. "You can take those with you," she told me. "It's a few crystal."
"I'll pass," I said. "Excuse me," I walked away as fast as I could.
"Wait," she told me. "There's a button under the table. Press it."
I was skeptical, but I went back. The table indeed had a small button underneath, labeled RETURN. One tap, and my stacks of books disassembled themselves. I watched them with jaw open as they flew back to the shelves, dodging disinterested patrons along the way, and shot up into the ceiling. It's the kind of thing you get used to in the City.
"Thanks," I told her.
"You're welcome," she said, and without another word returned to her books.
* * *
Two days later, we stood in the waiting room outside one of the Lower Court's courtrooms. A few other parties with their lawyers sat in groups elsewhere. More than a few stared at Alice Black and then at us in confusion, but no one asked what was with the huge difference in spectrum.
But they weren't the ones I wanted to talk to.
"Hello, Mical," I told her. "How's it going?"
She appeared to have lost weight and had bags under her eyes. Sleeplessness? "Today, not so well. I have a thousand things I would rather do than be here. Need to do."
"So says everyone," Alice Black commented.
Hagel, his two associates, and Mical's public defender were conferring. I could follow a portion of the conversation but had the sense not to interrupt. The third pillar of skill was practical experience, of which I had none. Or, rather, was about to have for the first time.
Two parties left the courtroom, staring at each other with scowls. Neither appeared happy with the decision—whatever it was. I hoped it wouldn't be so bad for us.
"Cases numbered #22025118 through #22025121," a voice from the ceiling announced through echoers.
"That's us," I said, and tried to eradicate butterflies in my stomach.
The chamber we entered was not that of the High Justices' deliberations, but surely imposing enough. It had the same proud, high architecture of the Palace of Stone and the other City Buildings, only slightly more cramped. A dais before the magistrate's granite desk bore the runes of a spell that would compel anyone who stood on it to speak truthfully.
(Not necessarily accurately, Hagel insisted. Or even the truth of reality. Only what the speaker saw as truth.)
In one corner, stood a podium with a stylized statue of a book atop: the representation of the Law.
Is it truly just for a human prosecutor to exist in a world of skillstones? Suppose the defendant hires a lawyer with Legal 7, while the prosecutor has only Legal 6 or 5. Is it not unjust to the victims? Perhaps a machine, open, and of unbiased construction, is just as good—that, and a magistrate to guide it. Yet a machine is incapable of mercy.
So I had read. At the moment, I discovered I quite disliked the Law. I told myself I would feel better about it after it was over, even if I glared at that podium in the moment.
Magistrates are usually high-level Mages or Healers, as they are chosen for their high Intelligence or Wisdom. But the older, black-robed man who took the desk was clearly some kind of physical fighter. He hadn't used either potions of youth or scar removal spells on his dark brown skin. Perhaps the form of his Charisma was to make him intimidating. If it was deliberate, he succeeded.
Aiding him in this endeavor was the bailiff with a brilliant gold and indigo aura, standing as still as if the suit of armor were empty. Both gauntlets rested on the hilts of two sheathed greatswords. I guessed he was a Titan, a subclass of Lord with extreme physical damage and health, high Agility and Dexterity bonuses, Strength enough to throw boulders, and serious summoning capabilities. Titans have N-Type teleportation, such that even running from one wasn't an option. Their only major weakness was a restriction (among many) against voluntarily retreating from combat. Which was probably moot in most cases, all things considered. I couldn't see under the Bailiff's horned helmet, but I suspected his expression would have a simple meaning: I can wipe you all in seconds without even trying.
I wondered why someone with a Tier One subclass would be assigned to a minor court case, until I remembered we had a High House family member with us. Even if the rest of us were torn to shreds in moments, Alice Black was also Tier One. I was morbidly curious what the battle would look like. Sure, she was higher level, but he probably had tons of drain resistance on right now...
But no battle. Instead, we suffered intense tedium, and you cannot buy an item for resistance to that. I will cut to the interesting parts.
"Opening statements," the magistrate said.
"Your Honor," Hagel began. "What we have is an unprovoked ambush by slayers, in which a regrettable action..."
There was not even a chance to dramatically shout a plea of "NOT GUILTY!" Rather, Hagel and the public defender had already filed the paperwork. Every hour that a court wasted in ceremony was crystal of someone's life. Instead, conferring, examining trivia, and paging through the many sheaves of the casework took most of the time.
Hagel called us one-by-one to the stand, except for Xavier. Odd to hear how everyone else had experienced the battle—usually terror. Sampson described death as a kind of darkness, and Elise confirmed it. Mical could describe nothing, having died so quickly. Andy could only stutter and put out small words, until Hagel and the magistrate mutually took pity and told her she could be finished.
The magistrate didn't look moved—seeing these cases day after day, surely—but neither did he appear unsympathetic. He allowed us to pause when it was too much to talk about.
Then it was my turn.
"Why did you revive her, knowing that the quest specified no revive for your highest possible success rate?"
I took some time to remember the answer Hagel had coached us into. I didn't know the morality of answering in mostly-truths, but I didn't remember it fully anyway, with my heart beating so hard. "Your Honor, I knew that not only would we die if I hadn't known it, but the chance we would ever be revived w
as negligible. Even if the slayers were later killed, we had no revival policy in place. So if I revived her—since I knew she had to be high level by the heartstone's color—we might all escape. To be honest, I wasn't even thinking of the Law or anything; it all happened in seconds."
The magistrate looked at me, and I did my best to meet his gaze. "Did, at any time, the revivalist who trained you mention that revival without authorization was against the Law?"
"Yes, sir," I said. "I—excuse me—It had not been very long since I was trained." Belatedly, I realized that did not help my case, and I could almost feel Hagel's glare.
He raised an eyebrow, but said, "Thank you for your time. Alice Black?"
Her story was more detailed, if shorter.
"Do you agree with Alex Kenderman's decision to revive you without authorization?"
"I admit I'm annoyed about the stat loss," Alice Black said, and I winced. "More than annoyed." I winced again. "But I'm glad he did it. He's absolutely right. I might never have been freed, otherwise. Had he asked, I would have agreed." I felt immensely relieved.
"The Law does not allow for retroactive permission for revival, Ms. Black," the magistrate said. I will add the explanation he omitted: otherwise, there'd be unauthorized revivals all the time in the hopes that the decedent would later agree.
"I am well aware of that, Your Honor. Nonetheless, I am answering your question."
"Why did you throw the heartstones of the ambushing party down the shaft?" Since the slayers had not technically been convicted of slaying, the magistrate could legally refer to them by circumlocutions.
Alice Black took a long time before answering. She looked at Hagel, and some telepathy must have been going back and forth. When she spoke her voice barely contained wrath. "Your Honor, I was absolutely furious. They were using me as bait to slay innocents. Even if it prevented their coming to trial, I didn't care."
Hagel add, "Your Honor, I wish to bring to the attention of the Court, as we are all surely aware, that the Law does not require the retrieval of heartstones in any situation except as contracted or quested."
"The Court is also aware that the tradition among slayer hunters of heartstone dropping is hardly authorized by the Law, Mr. Rand."
"Nor is it forbidden," Hagel insisted.
I was afraid they would go into that vast and intensely complicated subject of heartstone retrieval. But the magistrate seemed uninterested in arguing the point. After a final speech, Hagel rested his case, followed by Mical's public defender.
After a ceremonial, but very short, moment in which the other, absent, party were given the opportunity to speak, the magistrate walked out.
"What are our chances?" I asked Hagel.
"No worse than I thought they would be."
It was like a slow death waiting for the magistrate to come back. When he did, I felt even worse.
He took his seat impassively, cleared his throat, and began.
"Your actions are entirely reasonable and understandable, in a situation that none of you desired and brooked little time for thought. Nonetheless, the Law has certain demands.
"Ms. Alice Black, your request for deauration on all counts has been granted. Without the ambushing party to stand trial, none of these counts may be removed. I trust you will reconsider dropping heartstones in the future. In addition, you hereby receive a bonus of plus one to your aura for service to the Law and the City.
"Party of Alex Kenderman, your request for deauration on the counts related to the battle are granted. While it is in no way your fault that they cannot be removed, the Law forbids that they be without the other party to stand trial.
"Mr. Alex Kenderman, you made an entirely reasonable decision. Yet it was a legally wrong one. The Law must be upheld, even if I personally cannot fault your actions. You are hereby sentenced to a fine of four blue crystal or equivalent, and minus five to your aura."
I could barely breathe. Four blue crystal? I could not even conceive of how much that was. Four billion—no, four trillion, red.
Elise patted me on the shoulder. "It's OK. Don't worry, we'll figure something out."
* * *
"This is going to mess with any job as a revivalist I'll ever get," I moaned outside.
"The maximum penalty is minus fifty and permanent barring from the practice of revival," Hagel said cheerfully. "What you received was most lenient. Most revivalists have a handful of convictions, anyway, and if you ever have trouble you can always contact me. Of course, you'll be better off reviving for the House, anyway."
"Can't I appeal?"
"You certainly can try. Mind you, you'll be waiting for, oh, months until the Human Appeal Courts decide finally to refuse to hear your case. While, of course, you are saving for many delves worth of filing fees."
"It doesn't matter. Alex Kenderman," Alice Black said to me with her command voice, "this way." She turned down a corridor and beckoned. "Come on!"
I hardly knew what to say or think when we two were alone together, especially when she took my hand. But no, I felt some hard edges in that soft-skinned grip.
"Consider this retroactive permission," she said. "And keep it quiet. There's enough accusations of High Houses shielding their members from legal consequences as it is."
"Um, thanks?" I blushed. I hardly even needed to open my hand to find five blue crystals inside.
* * *
Outside the Courthouse, the sun was shining, the sky blue, and nothing had happened to anyone else.
I still had a blue crystal on me. I still couldn't do the math on how much that was. I was pretty sure it was a trillion now, but the number was unreal to me.
"Be seeing you," Alice Black said as her wings appeared and unfurled. With one leap, she jumped into the air and flew off in the direction of the Black's spire. Hagel withdrew a wand, pointed it at himself and mumbled, and was gone, too.
"Satisfied?" I asked Elise.
"What do you mean?" she asked me.
"You heard her talk on a truth dais," I said. "No intrigue, no secret conspiracy. Just slayers."
"But what exactly did she say?" Elise asked. "Think on that. Think on that good and hard."
"I don't know," Mical told us. "And I'd rather not learn.
Chapter Twelve:
The Boss
The 5th Floor—as any floor—is a lot more dangerous when you don't have someone with you far beyond the level of the local monsters. But I had bought us the best gear we could reasonably use, and enough consumables that no Grey Rat's plague or a Speed Serpent's turbovenom could stop us.
That, and it was only a few corridors away from the Elevator.
"This'll probably be the last time we see each other," I said to the Elevatarch. "We'll be going beneath the 5th after this." I didn't mention that the High House preferred us to use their Private Entrance, anyway.
"Probably," the Elevatarch agreed. "Unless you die, in which case I probably won't be seeing you again, either. Though, I thought you had become a publicly traded party, what with all the high-level gear you've got on. Well, no reason to keep you waiting." A flash from his staff, and we were yanked down. "Oh, I remember my first Boss battle. Exciting in the most violent and terrifying ways. Have a good time!"
We stepped out, but Xavier paused in the doorway. "So, do you really actually hate the color blue?" he asked.
"Of course. It's an untrustworthy color. I keep telling people, but no one believes me," he said with a sigh. "Farewell."
* * *
"The Boss won't spawn until one of you touches the stone," Alice Black said as we entered.
I considered asking how she had known to get there ahead of us, but I thought it would appear lame. "Any last minute tips?" I asked.
"Don't die?" Alice Black suggested with a shrug. "If you can't handle the 5th Boss with your gear and level, it's never happening. Good luck." She walked out the door.
No time to show my nervousness. "Everyone absolutely ready?" I asked. "We've got consumables
if you're not."
"Yeah, yeah, we know," Elise said. "Let's just do this."
"Right. Hanabi, everyone." Each of us put one of the five incredibly spicy (and pricy) flowers in our mouth and chewed. I think the only reason anyone can stand to eat one is that they give enough fire resistance that you can finish eating it. But better a burnt mouth than dying to a Royal Drake Hatchling. "Sampson?" I said. "You've got the Health."
The City and the Dungeon: And Those who Dwell and Delve Within Page 12