by T. G. Ayer
Evie took a breath. What Mykia meant is that even if she wanted to, her hands were tied as their new master. Her role would be to ensure the previous laws and agendas were upheld. And her loyalties could not be questioned, not while she was overseeing the whole case.
But what Mykia was also saying was that nothing at all stopped Evie from requesting the communion with Marcellus as part of her own defense. Evie cleared her throat. She'd committed the contents of the affidavit written by her friends to memory and then sat back. "As part of my defense, what other rights do I have?"
"You have the right to counsel, of course. You also have the right to confront your accuser. As well as the right to question each person who has testified, either against you or in your defense. All of which would have to be done in the presence of a neutral party of course. The SHC would assign an overseer as soon as your counsel is confirmed."
Evie. "And who am I allowed to call upon to represent me? Are there any rules as to who can work on my behalf?"
"Not that I know of. We are not a formal entity that requires a registration of professional experience. Most people either represent themselves or look for someone to trust who can speak on their behalf, preferable someone with investigative experience who can follow the necessary leads."
Evie took a breath. "Very well, then. I think I know who I'd like to request as my counsel. Does anyone have the right to make an objection against my choice?"
Mykia shook her head firmly, eyes dark and steely. Enough to know that Mykia would put her foot down if any such object were to be made.
Relieved, Evie said, "Okay. I have someone in mind. Who do I speak to in order to have my counsel some to meet with me?"
Mykia waved a hand. "You can tell me, of course. I'll ensure your counsel is summoned. Immediately, if that is within my power. Although you will have to make it formal by drawing up a letter of instatement bearing the name of your preferred counsel." Mykia pointed a finger at her desk where a quill sat beside a pot of black ink. "There is paper in the folder beside the ink. You are most welcome to write you request now. I will complete some of my own work in the meantime."
Mykia got to her feet and walked off, crossing the large room to the large table where almost twenty chairs were arranged. At one end was a stuffed armchair which sat sideways a little, and a stack of leather folders with one open and waiting for attention.
Mykia paid no further attention to Evie who walked over to the table, considering her position. She was physically closer to the door. She was unbound and able to fight the gargoyle guard. She was also powerful enough to fight off Mykia herself if the need arose. But she was all too aware of the sacrifice and trust the sacrifice and trust that the new master had placed in her.
And Evie had given her word. And now she had the opportunity to request counsel of her choice. She hadn't found it difficult to name the person because other than Patrick there were only two other people she would call on. One was in the underworld and Evie had no idea how to call him to her. So the other will have to do.
Hopefully he'd bring a strong dose of antihistamine with him when he arrived.
She took a seat at Mykia's desk, imagining the shock and horror on the faces of the other masters should they see a murder accused sitting in the seat of the Grand Master.
Mykia was definitely sticking her neck out for Evie and though instinct made her question Mykia's motives, Evie decided that for once she was going to trust someone. Even if it was a little bit of trust. For a short period of time.
Evie scrawled out a letter on the yellowed parchemen, feeling the tingle of the ink as she wrote her request to Mykia, a request that would be sent to the Supreme High Council as well. At last she was done, and sggined her name in a bold scribbled. She held out the letter and looked over at Mykia whose head was bent over her work. Evie walked over to her waving the paper for the ink to dry.
Mykia looked up. "All done?" Evie smiled and handed her the letter. The master took the message, scanned it quickly and met Evie's gaze, surprise soloring the honey to almost gold. "Evie? Are you certain? This is unprecedented."
Evie shrugged. "The fact that an angel warrior has been accused of murdering a master of the Irin is also unprecedented."
"Good point. Guess we may as well add on a little more unusual to the mix. But I have to warn you, we may receive pushback."
"I thought you said I could have anyone I wanted?" Evie asked, he body stiffening now.
Mykia shook her head. "I know what I said. I just didn't expect you to choose a.... All I'm saying is it will likely take a little longer to push the request through than I'd envisioned. I'll make it happen. They cannot deny your request. There is simply no reason to do so."
Evie's eyebrow rose. "Whoever’s been working with Marcellus all this time have already found ways to circumvent the rules of the brotherhood. How can we be sure they won't stall and try to get rid of me in the meantime?"
Mykia's jaw tightened, as though the very thought was offensive. Little did she know that Evie's life had already been threatened. But though this was probably the best time to reveal the Shade's attack , Evie decided to wait a little longer. She'd known when the time was right to tell Mykia the truth and now wasn't the time.
Then the master got to her feet and nodded sharply. "Leave it with me. I will make it happen. And besides, the SHC already knows of this request so they're likely already assigning an overseer to the case."
Evie frowned. "How would they know?" Then her forehead smoothed as she remembered. "Ah, SHC ink."
Mykia smiled and tucked the letter into one of the folders on her desk. Then she walked over to Evie, arms held out. She took both of Evie's forearms in her grip and help her firmly. Evie was never more aware of her marks which writhed beneath Mykia's palm. But the master didn't appear to sense anything strange. She simply smiled at Evie. "You have to know that I want the truth at the end of the day. I am trusting you when you say there is something darker going on here, but you are going to have to work hard to exonerate yourself of the murder charges. It's possible you may be cleared of all charges but that would be in the hands of your counsel to find a loophole in the law." She tightened her grip for a moment "I wish you only the best of luck, Evie. And I will do whatever I can to help. Just let's keep this between us. Your counsel, of course, can be informed of my standpoint. But he is not to repeat that to anyone, even if it were to help with your case."
Evie nodded and stepped away from Mykia’s grasp, feeling as though a rock had taken up residence in her chest. She had to force herself to speak. "Thank you. I'm not sure how to pay you back, but I most definitely owe you now." With a sad smile, Evie lifted her hands and extended them both to Mykia.
The master was silent as she returned the Angel Bonds to Evie’s wrists and spoke the words to initiate the spell.
And though Evie returned to her cell, nervous, worried and heartbroken, she now had something that this morning she hadn’t believed she’d ever have.
Hope.
Chapter 13
Evie paced her cell, thinking over her discussion with the new Master of the Irin. Now that Evie knew that Mykia would locate Barry and instate him as counsel, she was a little less tense.
Still, she had other things to think about, foremost being the testimony given by her best friends. She ran through the statement from memory, wondering why the girls had evaded the real truth. They hadn’t revealed that they had also kept back seals from Marcellus, thus also breaking the rules, which Evie thought had been smart. No reason to put themselves into a situation they would not be able to get out of. Or worse, have themselves tried alongside Evie for conspiracy.
Evie also wondered why the girls hadn’t implicated Castor, despite the halfling confessing that he’d been to Hades to see her. Did they do it to keep him safe? She’d always worried that Ash had really meant those snarky comments regarding Castor. The apsara had a mouth on her, and could sometimes be cruel, but now there was a hope that Ash wasn�
��t as prejudiced as she’d sounded.
Evie tapped her fingers on the leather of her cuffs as she kept thinking. The shade had been expunged along with his magic and Evie had survived his attempt on her life. Why he’d been after her and who had summoned him were questions that she’d have to find answers for. Questions that would also have to wait until Barry showed up.
Mykia wasn’t at all what Evie had expected, and if Evie had noticed then so would everyone else who came into contact with the new Master of the Irin. Which meant Mykia had a tough road ahead of her. More especially until Marcellus’ followers were rooted out.
Frustration was slowly building within Evie though and she had to force herself to stop thinking of Gavriel and her sisters and the Control. She had to get out of this mess first before focusing on the little angels she had to find.
The dungeons had remained quiet for a while and then suddenly, with a crashing boom, the entrance doors clanged, sounds racing along on the stone around the cells. Soft whimpers echoed around Evie and her breath stilled. Those sobs struck Evie deeply, the familiarity of the keening near breaking her heart.
Castor.
Poor Castor. He’d been like a sibling to Evie almost all her life. Patrick, Evie’s guardian and father, had adopted the half-demon as an infant. Castor’s human mother had abandoned him at birth, horrified to see the pale-skinned infant whose body was covered in crimson swirls and lines, and whose blood-red pupils scared the daylights out of most people.
His appearance drew such a fear-filled reaction from the people he came in contact with that he chose to wear a heavy hooded cloak, hiding his face within the darkness of the cowl.
Castor’s talent as a Healer was in enough of a demand that despite his scary image, he never ran out of patients. And he found that skirting the shadows as much as possible helped him retain those patients far longer than if he treated them face-to-face.
Such a reality, a life as an object of unending discrimination and prejudice, wasn’t easy, and yet Castor never considered withdrawing his services, never once in anger did he think to leave and hide himself, to take his healing abilities elsewhere, to people who wouldn’t treat him like a leper.
And now, Evie had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying as the sounds of chains sang in tandem to Castor's soft cries. The shuffling steps of the halfling came closer, the chains clanging on the stone floor growing ever louder.
A few minutes passed and a door slammed shut, the heavy boots stamping away and fading to silence. But Castor still sobbed, talking to himself first in whispers and then in low manic growls. He hated the darkness, and from what she could see, the guards wouldn't care to provide him with a candle to help ease his fear.
Tears filled Evie’s eyes as she tried to decide whether it was best to try to talk to Castor or to leave him be. Letting him know that she was there alongside him in this dungeon may send him into a worse state of despair. To Castor, it would mean there was no salvation, no hope for freedom.
And Evie didn’t want to take the chance so she kept silent, even when listening to his despair brought hot tears to her eyes.
Castor’s presence in the dungeon kicked Evie’s anxiety up a notch. She’d heard no one else within the cells along this side of the dungeons, and she had to wonder if only she and Castor had been captured and imprisoned even though he’d appeared not be involved.
Was that what Mykia had meant when she said Castor’s claim of knowing nothing had not been believed Was throwing the halfling into the dungeons a way to find out what he knew? To incriminate himself?
And what better way to do so than to eavesdrop on a conversation between the two of them. All the more reason for Evie to remain silent and keep her presence from Castor.
It was a cruel thing to do but Evie was willing as long as she kept him safe. And now the more she thought about it the more sure she was sure that Ash and Ling had only intended to keep Castor safe. And in so doing had incriminated Evie. She probably needed to thank them when she saw them.
But, she reminded herself, she wouldn't be able to talk to them, not privately. The SHC would soon send their representative who would be present at every interview Evie and her counsel conducted. The only private conversations would occur between Evie and Barry.
If he ever came.
Chapter 14
As it turned out, Evie didn't have to wait long. A few hours had passed in which no guard appeared to strap her to her chair. And just when Evie felt ready to explode, the sounds of boots on stone hammered their way toward her cell door.
The door was flung open and a guard entered while a second man waited at the entrance, hand on the hilt of his sword. His threat was clear but he was the same guard who had given her his look of warning before the Shade had attacked.
Then, as the other guard set a stool on the ground beside the ancient chair, her gargoyle ally met her eyes again. His expression was sad and apologetic, though a hint of a smile curved the corner of his mouth.
Evie hadn't the foggiest idea how to interpret the man's expression so she simply smiled back and nodded politely, then ignored his confused response. If he wanted to get her a message, he had to do so using a method other than his eyes.
He'd never make it in the movies, that was for sure.
Evie stood to the side as the guard stalked out of her cell, disappearing down the hallway. The gargoyle on the threshold paused, "You have a visitor. He will be brought down in a few minutes. Please let us know if you need anything."
Evie nodded slowly, then raised a finger. "Pen and paper would be good." She smiled and waved at the stool when the guard's eyebrows rose. "For the meeting. We'll need to make notes," she said, keeping her voice as soft as possible so the sound won't travel to Castor.
He gave a smile, then and backed away to shut the door. It wasn't long before the guards returned, this time three sets of boots rang on the hall floors. The door was flung open, hard enough that it swung wide and slammed into the stone wall behind it.
The guard responsible for this act of low-key violence turned out to be the very one Evie had believed was helping her. His movements were stiff as he marched over to the chair and dropped a pad of paper and a pen onto the seat before spinning on his heel.
His black armor clanged, the curving sword rattling, metal against metal singing a staccato song as he hurried out of the room. Then he stood stiffly aside, giving Baar'uk, the Demon Overlord, room to enter the cell.
Then the door was slammed hard enough to make Evie flinch, and she was certain she'd have a headache soon. She gave Barry an apologetic smile, then ran to him. She threw her arms around his shoulders, ignoring his surprised grunt, even ignoring his sniffling as the dust from her feathers irritated his nostrils.
"I'm so glad you came." she said softly before letting go of him and standing a foot away,
Barry twitched his nose and sniffed. "To be honest I had no idea I was meeting you," the demon said, his low rumbling voice all too loud.
"Who else did you think was asking you here? And Shh," Evie said, grabbing his arm to pull him away from the door. She waved at the chair. "You can sit there. I don't think this milkmaid's stool will hold you."
The demon stopped in his tracks and turned to glare at Evie, pale eyes drilling into her. "Are you saying I put on weight or something?"
Evie rolled her eyes and whispered, "Let's just keep the volume down. I don't want anyone to know I'm here and your presence is enough of a giveaway."
"What are you talking about?" Barry asked, frowning as Evie pointed again at the ancient chair for him to sit in. For a moment his entire body stilled. Then, his voice taught and filled with emotion, Barry asked, "And are you kidding me with the chair?"
Throwing her hands into the air, Evie asked, "What do you mean?"
"Do you have any idea what that chair means to us demons?" he asked on a whispery growl that sounded like water running over rocks.
Eyes narrowed, Evie asked, "No, Barry. Can you ple
ase enlighten me? And be quick about it."
The demon faced Evie, his great bulk, broad shoulders, musclebound torso encased in a long black leather coat which was open in front. He folded his large arms across his chest. "This is the Seat of Iphramit. This chair was used to hold captive at least a X demons whose blood was drained in order to create a relic of incredible danger. I ain't gettin’ anywhere near it. Not even if you kill me."
Evie let out a slow impatient breath. "Barry, you'll be dead. You won't know a thing."
"Still," he said, his voice cracking in indignation.
"Fine," Evie said, throwing her hands in the air again as though pleading to the good lord for patience. "You take the itty-bitty chair. If you flatten it and fall on your ass, don't blame me."
She walked over to the chair, but though she'd been flippant about his reaction, what he'd told her had been painful to hear. The seat she'd been strapped to had been used to murder demons?
Who else had been tortured while confined within it? And had that been the intention of Marcellus' minions? To drain Evie’s blood from her body? But she didn't have time to open up more cans of mystery. She had plenty on her table right now.
Evie faced Barry and paused at the sight of him. Her lips curved and laughter bubbled up from somewhere insider her. She pushed her amusement down, and tried really hard not to smile as the demon balanced precariously on the tiny three-legged stool. He looked like a minotaur trying to sit on a dollhouse chair.
Barry chose that moment to glance up and the moment he caught sight of her face, he froze. "Don't you dare laugh," he said, raising a finger in warning.
That was probably the worst thing he could have said, because all his warning did was make Evie want to burst out laughing. She clapped her hand over her mouth, pressing hard to stop the wave of giggles from erupting. That she was able to laugh right now seemed so wrong and, in that second, her laughter died and she sobered.