by Dante King
I shook my head, my eyes locked on Raquelle. “Not a chance. Did you hear what she called Maddie?”
Still, Raquelle didn’t back down. “To be fair, I didn’t call her a whore specifically,” the redhead said without an ounce of shame. “I included all your women in the statement.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” Maddie said. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears, and I could understand why. Being bullied is never a fun time—especially when it’s by someone who’s one of the leaders of the School you hope to major in. This was a major blow to Maddie’s confidence. One I had to right, fast.
“Very well,” Judyth said. “Raquelle, you may lead us to an advanced classroom. I’m going to go ahead and assume you already have a lesson in mind?”
Raquelle curtsied, her manner changing in an instant. Within the span of a blink, the back-talking, bratty redhead turned into the most submissive teacher’s pet imaginable. “Of course, Headmistress,” she said with a giggle, her fingers brushing the bottom of her chin. “I always have several at the forefront of my mind, just in case someone wants to challenge me…”
Damn her. I didn’t like this girl one bit—though she did arouse the hell out of me. There was something achingly hot about her bratty manner: it made me want to pin her to a bed and pound her until she called me Daddy. Seeing that haughty expression of hers collapse under the power of a toe-curling orgasm would be the sweetest revenge I could get on this girl. I made a mental note to seduce her as soon as possible.
As we left the room, I reached for the rose-colored glasses I’d left on the floor, but Judyth stopped me. “You won’t be needing those,” the Headmistress informed me with a sigh, tucking the spectacles into a pocket of her robes. “They’re only for introductory students. Advanced courses consider them cheating.”
“But I am an introductory student,” I protested, right before I decided to forget it. If it would’ve looked dorky to wear the frames in whatever challenge Raquelle wanted to throw at me, then I’d just have to win without them.
As Raquelle exited the courtroom, Maddie glaring daggers at her narrow back, Judyth grabbed me and pulled me close. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” the blonde angel demanded, gritting her teeth.
“Uh... flirting?” I asked with a grin.
Judyth looked like she wanted to slap the expression off my face. “That girl is a shark,” the Headmistress whispered, glancing at the door to make sure Raquelle didn’t double back. “She has the sharpest legal mind I’ve seen in decades of teaching. Raquelle is going to try and make an example out of you—she’s planning to humiliate you before the whole Justice School. News of it will spread throughout the student body, and even I won’t be able to protect you from the mockery!”
I just laughed. “Are you kidding me? That’s what all your students have been trying to do to me since I got here, Judyth. I’d have thought they’d have figured it out by now. You can throw us to the lions, or make us walk on hot coals if you want. We’re not ordinary students. We’re better. We’re going to be running this Academy by the end of the year, Judyth.” I leaned in close, allowing my lips to brush her ear. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten our special arrangement.”
The blonde angel flushed from the tips of her wings all the way down to her thighs. “That is not what I was offering you,” she gasped, trying to rationalize me away. “If you think I’d sully the name of Celestial Academy by fu... by canoodling with a student!”
“Oh, you’re gonna,” I said, giving her a good-natured smirk. “Right after I teach your star student a lesson in messing with Lucifer’s finest.”
With that, I put my arm around Maddie and led her out of the courtroom. Judyth could catch up whenever she had the time.
As we strode out into the hall, several of the rooms around us began to open. Clearly news of Raquelle’s challenge had spread throughout the School, as eager students took their first looks at me and Maddie and placed their bets on who would come out victorious. From the way they stared, I got the impression I was anything but the favorite.
“I’m sorry she called you a whore,” I whispered to Maddie as we passed through the crowd. “I’ll pay her back for that later, don’t you worry.”
A wicked gleam shone in Maddie’s eyes. “Pay her back for it by having that little tramp eat my pussy while you fuck her,” my girlfriend growled, proving once and for all that she was on my wavelength and I’d never find a more perfect partner. “Call me a whore when she’s clearly so turned on by us both she’s soaking those robes of hers!”
I hadn’t thought Raquelle quite that enchanted by the prospect of a Luke and Maddie sandwich, but I wasn’t about to argue. When Maddie was this upset, I figured there would be only one way to calm her down—and it was the one thing I wasn’t allowed to do in the Celestial Academy. Damn.
Raquelle’s advanced courtroom turned out to be a room at the end of the hall, behind a section of the building that sloped markedly downward. The temperature dropped with every step, until it was so cold that if I put my tongue against the wall, it would get stuck. Two angels in judicial robes opened the door for Maddie and me, and we were inside.
This courtroom was bigger and more luxurious than the others. It was also nearly full—the rows of seats were occupied by other students, all of whom craned their necks to see us enter. Just like in the introductory course, no judge sat in the box at the front of the court—that seat, apparently, lay reserved for the Almighty.
There were, however, witnesses. Two of them, in fact.
Raquelle stood conversing with one in low tones, keeping her voice quiet enough to not be overheard. Her head jerked sharply upward as I approached, a knowing smile spreading across her gorgeous face.
“I’m afraid I only challenged you,” she said, giving Maddie a desultory glance. “She can go sit in the gallery, if you like. I’m sure she’ll be cheering you on.”
Maddie looked like she wanted to throw fists from all the insults this girl kept dishing out, but I kept things cool. “Go on, Maddie,” I said, gesturing at a row near the back of the court. “Take a seat and chill. You know I’ve got this.”
“I know.” Maddie gave me a quick peck on the cheek, then gave Raquelle the most vicious look I’d ever witnessed a woman give another woman. “Give her hell, baby.”
Raquelle snickered at the pun. “Here’s how it works,” the redhead explained once Maddie was safely on the way to her seat. “You and I are both going to play a round of Solomon’s Judgement. If one of us guesses correctly and the other doesn’t, that person is declared the winner. Should both of us pass the first round successfully, we play a second round to determine the better judge. If we both somehow make it through that round”—her little laugh at the idea assured me she considered that an impossibility—“then the match is considered a tie. Understood?”
“I understand,” I told her. “Except I have no idea what Solomon’s Judgement is.”
Raquelle grinned wickedly. “It’s one of the oldest games in the book,” she said, like she could already taste her victory. “The Good Book, that is. I’ll go first, so you can get a feel for the rules.”
Even this felt like a trap. But before I could protest, Raquelle stepped forward and a hush fell over the crowd. Without a moment’s hesitation, she climbed into the judge’s chair, straightening her tight black robes as she did so.
“Today I will mete out the Justice of Solomon,” she intoned, giving the proceedings the solemnity of a ritual. “All rise!”
As one, the spectators got up from their seats. After a moment of staring straight ahead, nearly startled out of her wits, Maddie joined them. Only I remained lounging next to the bar in front of what would be the plaintiff’s desk in a terrestrial courtroom, unwilling to put up with the fakeness of it all.
“You may be seated,” Raquelle said smugly. “Bring forth the claimants!”
The two witnesses straightened up—then floated over in front of the judge. Belat
edly, I realized what I’d taken for student volunteers were more spirits, only these could be seen with the naked eye. No special glasses required.
Both of them looked like young women, maybe a few years older than Maddie and me. Unlike the construction worker or the heroic jogger I’d met earlier, these women’s robes were anything but modern. They wore identical brown tunics, like extras from a movie taking place in Ancient Greece. One’s hair had been shorn close to her scalp, while the other had long raven locks tied up in a crude bun.
Both of them were crying.
“Oh please, mighty judge!” The short-haired woman sobbed, gripping the bench. She transitioned so smoothly from staring ahead silently to wide-eyed panic that the effect was like something out of a horror movie. “Please, the baby is mine! That other woman is a treacherous wench—she lies to you!”
Baby? Oh shit—I’d missed that part. At the same time that the spirits floated into their assigned places, an infant materialized right in front of the chair where Raquelle sat. For the moment, it seemed content to coo and sigh, staring blankly at its surroundings, but I’d babysat my cousin’s kid enough to know looks were deceiving.
The second woman, the one with the bun, let out a haughty scoff. “Look at the child’s eyes,” she declared, pointing at the phantom child laying before Raquelle. “The color of my eyes and the baby’s are the same! What green-eyed bitch can make a blue-eyed child!?”
As the two women squabbled, their situation lit a fuse in the back of my skull. Topics from Bible school I’d forgotten from decades ago came trickling back into my consciousness—something about two women arguing over a baby…
“Solomon’s Judgement,” I muttered, the answer so obvious I nearly slapped my face. “So that’s what we’re doing here.”
From what I remembered of the story, King Solomon had threatened to cut the baby in half. The move revealed the child’s true mother: the woman who’d rather see the baby raised by another woman than watch it die.
As I watched Raquelle stare intensely at each woman in turn, I realized there’d be no easy fix for this game. Solomon’s Judgement wasn’t about coming up with a clever solution—it was about finding the truth.
“Both of you stop,” Raquelle said suddenly. She pointed at the haughty woman with the bun hairdo, the one who’d spoken about the child’s eye color. “You are telling the truth. The child is yours.”
The woman she’d indicated began to cheer and cry, scooping the child into her arms. The short-haired woman’s shoulders sank as she dissipated, fading away within the span of an instant. Mother and child stood embracing a moment longer before they too faded away, leaving only a single beam of light shining from the ceiling of the court where they’d been standing.
A deep, booming voice uttered a single word: “Correct.”
“Score!” Raquelle did a little dance, like a football player in the end zone. “I never lose a game of Solomon’s Judgement, Luke. You have no idea what you’ve walked into.”
As I approached the bench, I realized what I’d failed to notice before—the looks on the faces of the crowd. They weren’t rooting for me, of course, but neither were they rooting against me. They just looked... resigned, somehow, as if they were just waiting for the humiliation to be over. Like this had all been decided well in advance.
What did they know that I didn’t?
“So that’s it?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips. Since I couldn’t be knowledgeable about what was going on, I decided to be brave, instead. “You just decide who’s lying and give the baby to them? That’s all?”
“That’s all?” Raquelle jumped out of the judge’s seat, her short wings fluttering as she landed before me. “That’s Solomon’s Judgement, Demon Boy. Let’s see if you can tell who’s guilty and innocent without those special glasses of yours.”
I could do that. As I prepared to ascend to the seat Raquelle had just occupied, however, Judyth stopped me. Several people looked surprised at the intrusion of the Headmistress into the proceedings, but the resigned expressions on most spectators remained.
“There’s less shame in forfeiting, you know,” Judyth whispered, dropping her voice low enough not to be heard by anyone else above the murmur of the crowd. “Among the Justice School, recognizing you’re beaten and giving up gracefully carries less shame than trying and being decimated by a superior opponent.”
I forced a smile to my face. “I don’t intend to lose.”
“You will.” Judyth didn’t look like she was trying to get my goat; in fact, she looked to be more on my side than ever. She just didn’t have any hope for me here. “Raquelle has never lost a game of Solomon’s Judgement. Only one student has ever even tied her. The second round is exponentially more difficult than the first, and Raquelle is, as I said, a shark.”
I felt my eyebrows furrow together. “That’s bullshit. There’s only two possible answers, right? One girl is the baby’s mom or the other is. That means even if I just blindly guess, I’ve got a fifty-fifty shot of having the right answer. Someone has to win every now and then, just from sheer luck.”
Judyth shrugged. “All I can tell you is she’s never lost, Luke. Do yourself a favor: back down now. Neither you nor Maddie are cut out for this school, we know that now. Let’s go tour Prudence…”
If it had been just me, I might have taken her up on her offer. I didn’t really want anything to do with the Justice School—and if I had, I would’ve lost my desire after being commanded to send a hero like that poor jogger to Hell. But it wasn’t just my honor that was on the line—Maddie’s was, too. Plus, she liked Justice. I wasn’t about to ruin her chances of scoring the Major she wanted.
If you embarrass her, though, a little voice whispered in the back of my head, you just might…
I dismissed it with a shake of the head. No, there was more going on here than met the eye. How could Raquelle possibly win this game every time she played? It was like guessing which side of a coin would come up heads or tails, and getting it right every time. No one could be that good.
Could they?
I climbed into the bench, scanning the faces of the crowd. They didn’t expect much from me; I could tell. Almost as soon as I’d settled into the chair, the shades of two women in that same Greco-Roman dress winked into existence in front of the bench.
A moment later, a baby sat in front of me.
I wouldn’t have thought a thing like that would affect me, but the sight of the infant wriggling on the edge of the bench shook me to my core. Before I could stop myself, I wrapped my hands around it and pulled it closer, protecting it from falling. The crowd began to snicker knowingly at the gesture.
“It’s not a real baby, Demon Boy,” Raquelle whispered, her voice filled with triumph. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Embarrassed? Hell! I’d give her something to be embarrassed about.
“Today, I will... uh... mete out the Justice of Solomon,” I said, letting the baby go. “You may all be seated.”
No one had risen in the first place. Damn it. Raquelle grinned like she was lapping up every minute of this.
As quickly as it had happened for my rival, the first shade approached the bench and began weeping. This woman was much older than either of the two girls who’d been begging Raquelle for their baby—so much so that I initially assumed she was a grandmother asking for her grandbaby, rather than the child’s actual mother.
“Please,” the woman whimpered, clutching at the bench like someone clinging to the edge of a cliff. “That woman stole my baby! Please, little Mieko, come back home to Mommy…”
The second woman’s face twisted harshly. “Lying slut! Look at this woman—she’s well past the age of being able to bear children! The old hag was unable to conceive a child of her own, and so she stole mine! Right out of my basket in the marketplace, like a common thief!”
“Did not!”
“You trollop!”
I stared from one woman to the next, looking for s
ome sign that either of the shades were lying. Both of them seemed totally credible. Try as I might to discern some secret signal in the way their eyes moved, or the tone of their voices, I saw nothing but two women very concerned about who would get to raise their baby.
I squinted hard, trying to do the Magic Eye trick without the glasses. It didn’t work.
“Oh Luke?” That was Raquelle, who couldn’t resist inserting herself into my trial. “You need to make up your mind, Demon Boy. Have you figured out which one is the real mother yet? I saw it ages ago.”
“Just making up my mind,” I muttered, trying again to see something. I even reached for my demonic magic, hoping it might light up a clue or something of that nature. No dice.
Alright, Luke, I told myself. Fifty-fifty shot. Take a pick. Heads, or tails?
I couldn’t tell you what drove me to choose the older woman. Maybe it was some affinity for her, or maybe the word trollop just sounded a little too off-the-mark to be used by someone who looked like they should have had posters of Hercules on their bedroom walls. Either way, I pointed my finger at her, and she made a face like the sun had just come out from behind a cloud.
“This woman is the child’s true mother,” I said, my heart thundering against my ribs. “I have spoken.”
The older woman grabbed up the child and pulled it to her breast, sobbing with relief. The second shade winked out almost immediately, disappearing in a puff of offended smoke. For several moments, mother held child, then the whole tableau disappeared, leaving that golden beam of light behind.
Again, that deep voice sounded out over the courtroom:
“Correct.”
I let out a low, heavy sigh. Fuck. I’d guessed correctly. It had only been a guess!
A smattering of polite applause greeted the news that I’d passed the first round. I’d have expected to maybe get a little bit more respect, but the reaction on my face must have made it clear to everyone in the courtroom I’d only been guessing.
Raquelle stamped a foot against the floor, kicking out unconsciously before getting a hold of herself. “Well done, Demon Boy. But even a stopped clock is right twice a day. You won’t pass the second round. No one does.”