“I almost don’t want to open it,” she said over her shoulder as she crossed the room.
“It can’t be anything worse than that summons,” I sighed with resignation.
Étoile gave a sceptical snort, returning a moment later with Steven in tow. “Are they really serious about this?” Étoile asked as Steven took a seat on the sofa opposite me. His dark suit made quite a startling contrast to the snow-white sofa. He had a black briefcase with him, which he set on the floor. He folded one leg over the other and leaned backwards, apparently relaxed. “I mean, why charge Stella now? Isn’t it kind of a coincidence to arraign these charges only days before the Summit begins?” she continued.
“I would hazard a guess that it’s not a coincidence at all,” agreed Steven as he glanced from Étoile to me. “I wish I had more time to give you warning, but I only heard of it this morning. I was as surprised as you. I assumed this matter was over and dealt with.”
“Who were those people?” I asked.
“The woman you spoke with, albeit briefly, is Lisette Randolph. She’s a member of the Council and in charge of the judicial process.”
“I know her,” said Étoile.
Taking in her stony face, I asked sarcastically, “She’s not good news?”
“Far from it.”
Steven nodded. “I concur. Lisette is very, shall we say, power-driven?”
“Is this political?” asked Étoile.
Steven lifted one shoulder, and let it drop. “Possibly. The most important thing right now is for us to evaluate the case against Stella and see if there truly are any actual charges to be brought.”
“I did kill her,” I said simply. “I held her heart in my hand, but it wasn’t murder,” I added, cramming the words so close together that they came out in one long stream of panic. I dropped my head into my hands and practised inhaling deep breaths.
Étoile placed a hand on my knee, giving it a little squeeze. A smooth beat of her influence swept over me as she sent calmness. For once, I didn’t argue. Instead, I let her magic give me what I needed, the tranquility and strength to get through this. “I know. I was there,” she said softly, her words comforting me. “Steven, if it hadn’t been for Stella, we could have all died. We all saw what she did to Marc. If she lived, and in the unlikely event it came to trial, Eleanor would be tried for the murder of Stella’s parents, her own husband, the three students who were residing with us, and who knows? Probably more. Everyone would know what she did. There was no way—” she turned to me as I looked up, and repeated, “—absolutely no way, Eleanor would not have let any of us live, not after what we witnessed.”
Steven’s head bobbed as he nodded. “Will you testify, if it comes to that?”
“Of course,” Étoile agreed readily.
“And if it affects your own position?” Steven raised his eyebrows and gave her a pointed look.
Étoile swallowed. She lifted her chin with a regal shake of her head. Her back was ramrod straight. “So be it,” she replied. Steven gave an approving nod. “This trial is preposterous. Who is responsible for the charge anyway?” she asked.
“A very good question, and one to which I don’t know the answer yet. I hoped the accuser, or the prosecutor, would put in an appearance at the arraignment. That was the subject of our brief conversation. Lisette assured us it was a case with merit and I was outvoted.” He uncrossed his legs, planting both feet on the floor as he leaned over his briefcase. He set it on the coffee table, unclipped it and extracted a yellow legal pad and a slim pen. “We have very little time. Stella. Let’s go through the events of that day. If I’m to represent you, I need to know everything that happened.”
“Can I afford you?” I asked, adding another worry to my existing boatload.
“Yes,” he said, continuing, “because I’m pro bono, and because your parents would want me to assist you in any way I can. I could not call myself a friend to them if I refused to aid you in your time of need. You will not owe me anything, monetarily or in favours. Understood?” His tone was firm and he gave me a no-nonsense look that forbade me to argue.
I nodded and released the breath that was caught in my throat. “Thank you.”
Steven nodded. His face lost the gentle look and he returned to business. He uncapped the pen and tapped it on the pad. “Let’s begin.”
It took quite some time to recount the events of that day, then start again from the beginning, to relate how I first arrived at the safe house. I also mentioned Marc’s strange behaviour on that final day, as I relived the horror of those desperate hours of Eleanor’s attack. In the end, I was exhausted and the sky dimmed to twilight, illuminated by the sparkling light of apartments all around us.
“The prosecution will call witnesses to support their claim. You, dear,” he said, nodding to Étoile, “and your sisters. David, too. Kitty Williams. Marc might be a problem.”
“Because Eleanor was his mother,” I concurred, closing my eyes and leaning back. I was relaxing for the first time since we’d begun, and the tension left my exhausted body as I recalled the woman who despised me so much. She hadn’t been much of a mother, of course. She was even prepared to abandon Marc, since she was desperately jealous of his childhood power, in her obsession with my father. Eleanor’s power-mad cruelty didn’t end with my parents or Astra, she had also spellbound Marc, to ensure that his powers could never surpass hers. Her crimes were numerous. I wondered if we would ever discover how far she went to cover up my parents’ deaths, or all the things she did to guarantee that her husband retained power. For a while, Marc and I were friends — we even kissed — although his hot /cold attitude had me puzzled. I later found out his mother insisted that he befriend me in order to snoop on me. The last few days at our safe house seemed to make him more confused and angry, ready to lash out at anybody.
“Absolutely. We can’t say which way he’ll go.” Steven paused and seemed to study a spot on the wall behind me. “Is there any possibility he might still be angry with you?” he asked slowly.
Étoile leaned in. “Do you think he is behind the charge?”
The apartment felt suddenly cold. Her words hung between us. Could Marc have brought this claim against me? The more I thought about it, the more I felt uncertain. Yes, Marc had been horribly manipulated, but he’d also seen his mother ruin so many people. There was no way his memory could have glossed over that much. Plus, I felt fairly certain he didn’t hate me. We hadn’t kept in touch for a long interval, but we were on speaking terms now.
Finally, I shook my head. “He sent me a birthday card. He called a couple of weeks ago and suggested we have coffee while we’re both here. That doesn’t sound like someone who wants to see me locked up.” Étoile and Steven exchanged looks. “What?” I asked.
“They wouldn’t lock you up,” said Steven.
“Then what’s the point of this? If they find me guilty…”
“Which they won’t,” interrupted Étoile.
“If they do,” I continued, “why wouldn’t they lock me up?”
“Because you would be excommunicated,” said Steven. “You would be stripped of your magic and unrecognized by our society.”
I looked from Steven to Étoile. Their faces were blank. Étoile looked at the floor. “That doesn’t sound too hideous,” I said, wondering if I were missing something.
“Yeah?” said Étoile, her voice strained. “You might change your mind if you run into those damn witch hunters again and you can’t escape and no one will help you.”
I gaped at her. “So they would literally strip me of all my protection?”
She nodded.
“Great. I have so much to look forward to.” I sank back against the pillows. A thought sprang into my head that made me sit upright again. “You’ll call Evan, won’t you? He’s working, but I know he’ll testify too.”
Steven shook his head. “It’s highly unlikely he would interfere in witch business. Plus, his statement would be shredded by the
prosecution simply because of what he is.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” It seemed like the phrase of the day. The whole thing seemed ridiculous. Why now? After all this time, why did they want to punish me? I asked Steven the same question as he got to his feet.
“That’s a question I’ll be asking,” he said. “I really must go, but I’ll call you both later and let you know what I’ve learned. I advise you to remain here for the evening while I conduct my investigation. I would rather neither of you were approached. We don’t know for sure who our friends are,” he added emphatically as he stowed the plethora of scribbled pages of notes in his briefcase.
“We only have until tomorrow,” I reminded him, not that I needed to. “How much can you investigate in that time?”
“You would be surprised. I can be quite persuasive.” Steven offered me a reassuring smile, but it didn’t exactly warm me. The whole episode was giving me an icy cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. I had the awful feeling someone was playing games with me, or at least using me as a pawn in theirs, but I couldn’t fathom why. I got up to walk around the table and Steven patted my shoulder as he passed me. “Stay calm. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” he said. He kissed Étoile lightly on each cheek and she followed him to the door.
“This is a nightmare,” I said when she returned. I’d taken up a spot by the window, looking out at the street lamps and the dusk settling over the city. The street below seemed even busier than earlier. I wished I were one of them, en route to the theatre, or heading out for dinner with friends, not a care in the world. “Why is this happening?” I asked for the umpteenth time, without expecting an answer.
“I don’t know, Stella. I really don’t, but nothing will happen to you. We’ll do everything we can. I promise.”
“What if that isn’t enough?” I rested my head in my hands and closed my eyes. “Someone’s setting me up. Why would someone do this to me?”
Étoile took the spot next to me. She extended an arm around my shoulders and I leaned into her. “We’re going to find out.”
I hated to ask, but did anyway. “Do you think Marc would do this?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t think he’s ever been angry with you. Not one bit. At the hospital, he was sad, but I never heard him say he blamed you. Ask Kitty. She spent a lot of time with him.”
Kitty had told me a few things about her stay while she recuperated from broken bones. She and Marc were together once, but Marc’s roving eye caused them to break up. She said she thought they might get back together when they were recuperating; but in the end, she told me, she was relieved that they didn’t. She said they were made to be friends, not lovers. If he said anything to her, I was sure she would have told me.
“Maybe one of the other families who lost someone that day?” I suggested. “But weren’t they told what happened?”
“They were informed during the investigation. Don’t be surprised if some of them appear tomorrow. It’s the kind of trick the prosecution would pull if they were afraid the case might be thrown out.”
“Have you ever been to court before?”
“Not for a murder trial. It’s very rare.”
“I guess I’ll be the talk of the Summit, huh?”
“Try not to think about that. Try to focus on… hmm, I got nothing.” Étoile laughed, but it had a bitter ring. She squeezed my shoulders and gave me a firm look. “I have to make some calls. I’ll be in my office, right through there. Make yourself at home. Maybe Steven is right, and we can get this called off before tomorrow.” The one thing she didn’t add was that there was nothing to worry about.
“Do you think so?”
“I’m going to try everything I can.”
“Hey, dinner with Anders and Daniel? Can we call it off?” I asked. Disappointment ebbed through me. I was looking forward to spending an evening with them, but now I knew my mood and the events would kill any attempt at a happy reunion.
“Sure. No problem.”
When Étoile left the room and I could hear her talking on the phone, I decided to place my own call. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I hit “speed dial.” It rang and rang, then cut to voicemail, the robotic voice inviting me to leave a message. “Evan, it’s Stella. Listen, I’m in some trouble.” I briefly spelled out the problem, my voice racing. “Steven said you probably can’t do anything about it, but can you call me back? Please? I… I need you, Evan. Call me as soon as you can.” I hung up before my voice broke. I stared at the phone, willing it to ring, but it just lay inertly in my hand.
For a moment, I flashed back to my old flat in London: the creeping mould, the loneliness I felt before I knew what and who I was. I hadn’t felt that way for months upon months. Despite a brief separation from Evan, courtesy of Eleanor’s attack which left him severely injured, he was my constant companion, my lover, my teacher, my friend. I needed to feel his arms around me, his comforting words as he told me everything would be all right. So much for my resolve that this week apart would be nothing but a blip. I ached for him.
With my hand firmly clenched around the phone, expecting it to ring any moment, I moved towards the doorway and Étoile’s small home office. There was barely more than a desk, a chair, and a bookcase that doubled as a filing cabinet. Though sparse, it was pretty, as well as utilitarian. Instead of blank walls, a metallic fleur-de-lis wallpaper covered the wall her desk rested against. The desk was white and shiny, with an open laptop, but Étoile ignored it while she spoke into her phone. Seconds later, she hung up and turned to me, her expression even more grim.
“Seren and David both received summons to testify.”
“That’s good,” I decided. “They can tell the court exactly what happened.”
Étoile nodded. “I still haven’t received mine.” A beep emitted from her phone and she picked it up, quickly scanning the screen. “Astra got one too.”
“How is she?” I asked, maintaining an even tone. Astra was something of an enigma to me. While Étoile and Seren exemplified strength, confidence and self-assurance in their demeanours, the youngest sister didn’t seem to be cut from the same cloth. The magic that made my friends everything they were was also the one that had driven Astra wild. Étoile didn’t speak about her often, but I knew she kept close tabs on her. I knew she was released into the custody of their parents.
“She’s well. Very well, actually.” Étoile smiled. “She’s been through a lot and she’s… she’s changed, Stella. She’s stronger than she used to be. Much more… I don’t know the word. Possessed, I think. Like she really knows who she is now. That said, I’m not sure the trial is the best place for her.”
“Will it stress her?”
“Maybe. We don’t know everything that happened to her during those two years. I’m not sure we ever will. This trial is bound to cause her undue stress, which she doesn’t need now, especially when things are going so well.”
“Maybe she shouldn’t testify?”
“She already said she would.” Étoile set her phone on the desk, then rested her arms on the slim armrests. “She said she would right her wrong.”
“She didn’t kill anyone,” I pointed out.
“She allowed her magic to be extracted for ill will and she did hurt people,” Étoile pointed out matter-of-factly, even though it clearly pained her to do so. “It was only her precarious mental position that prevented her from being indicted during the investigation. She might prove to be an excellent witness in your favour.”
I agreed with that, but I couldn’t in all good conscience allow it. “Not at the expense of her mental health!” I shook my head. It didn’t seem fair to make her suffer all over again. I was working hard on forgiveness towards her.
“Astra is very much stronger now. I doubt I can talk her out of it, if this is what she’s chosen to do. She’s a lot like you, you know. Stubborn. I can feel her now, actually. She’s a little tense, but very determined.”
“How do you do that? Feel each oth
er?” I asked. I was curious. I wasn’t sure how their bond worked, and if it were a sisterly thing that all families shared. Étoile and her sisters possessed many of the same abilities, and their powers were boosted whenever they were together, creating a formidable force. Though they were weakened considerably when Astra was ill, Étoile and Seren were still two of the most powerful witches I knew, which were few, at most. This Summit was supposed to change all that. Eleanor Bartholomew might have put me off the Council, but my real friends, including Anders, offered me renewed faith that some of the witches were decent. Étoile ran a hand through her short hair while she thought.
“It’s like there’s a web connecting us,” explained Étoile. “I guess it’s something to do with our telepathy and the sisterly bond. I can always feel them and if I concentrate, I know their basic moods. Happy, sad, hurt, worried. They can do the same for me. I can use it to locate them too. We can always mask it, if we want, but it’s nice to know they’re nearby. It didn’t feel right when the bond was broken.”
“Daniel and I just use the phone,” I said. My cousin, Daniel, and I had only known each other less than a year. I didn’t feel any connection to him, physically anyway. I knew he was in the city, but I couldn’t feel him or attest to his moods. Perhaps if we’d been raised together, things would have been different, or maybe not at all. Funny thing was, I’d been more concerned about the information about his powers being involuntarily used and exploited by the Brotherhood to locate and hunt down witches getting out, and its effect on his reception at the Summit, than what I’d done.
“Maybe if you’d known each other since birth, it would be different,” Étoile said and we left it at that. “Not all witch families bond in our particular way, though similar bonds can be created between lovers.”
Magic Rising (#4 Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series) Page 5