The haunts were coming into the hall but instead of their usual flowing, pouring and running, it was a halting progress as they fought each step they took. Honor’s arms were locked to her side and her head thrown back as she strained against whatever was pulling her into the room; Basel’s antlers were lowered as he too was dragged in stiff-legged, the unicorn, the leopard, and all the rest bucking, twisting, resisting. I shifted so I could also see the Magus, and his ice shard eyes were glittering as he began to move Laurel’s staff in a complicated pattern, murmuring. He brought the staff sharply down and there was an unbearable moment when the haunts distorted, their mouths stretched open in silent, prolonged screams. Then they were gone.
“No,” I said, ignoring both the metallic taste in my mouth and the sphere that floated back in front of me, splitting my view of the Magus.
Kareste dropped the staff onto the table with a thunk before he sat down. “A summoning, a binding, a banishing. Easy enough to do with ghosts—if one’s aspect is earth.” He gave another wintry smile. “Mine is not, but fortunately I do have a staff that once belonged to one whose aspect is.”
“Vile necromancer!” Laurel roared. He staggered to his feet. “You have twice murdered them!” His rune was white hot, light radiating from it as he began to raise his paw at the Magus. “By the Lady Gaia I pronounce you cursed—”
The guard hit him again, this time in the stomach, and Laurel bent over, gasping.
Kareste looked at Laurel as if the cat were horse droppings he’d just stepped in, then turned to the northern elf. “I’m finished, Ilenaewyn.”
“Very good,” Ilenaewyn said. He looked at Pellan. “Bring in the first group.”
Pellan bowed, signaled the guards at one of two doors, and the Fyrst, Molyu and Wyln were escorted into the hall. Molyu turned her head to take in our battered group, and I heard Berle’s swift intake of breath at her blazing gold eyes—so much like Jusson’s.
The guards led them to the dais and Ilenaewyn leaned forward in his seat, looking at them. “A binding has been placed on Her Grace Molyu. The High Council will have your paroles for good behavior, or she will bear our displeasure.” He waited for a moment, but the trio remained mute, their own faces blank as they stared back, and he nodded at the Magus. “Go ahead.” Kareste gestured at Molyu, and she stiffened, her mouth flattening out in pain.
Javes cast a side glance at the chancellor. “Your new allies, Berle,” he murmured.
The chancellor hunched a shoulder. “Can’t have eggs for breakfast without breaking a few.”
“Your parole, Loran, Wyln,” Ilenaewyn said. He waited a moment, then signaled Kareste again, and Her Grace gave a grunt, her face drawing. A spot of blood appeared at the corner of her eye, dark red.
“I give my parole,” Loran said, and Kareste started to lower his hand.
“No,” Ilenaewyn said. He looked at Wyln. “You too, Enchanter.”
Wyln said nothing, and Ilenaewyn signaled once more. Kareste raised his hand again, making a fist, and Her Grace jerked and gave another grunt, the blood welling up and spilling over.
“I give my parole,” Wyln said, and Kareste lowered his hand. The tension abruptly left Her Grace’s body, but Her eyes remained fixed on Ilenaewyn as a single drop of blood coursed down her face.
“Good,” Ilenaewyn said. “Take them to the other prisoners.”
The guard guided the Fyrst, Her Grace, and the Enchanter over to where we stood. As they reached me, they stopped, ignoring the guard’s efforts to move them behind us. Loran turned and faced the High Council, his face calm as if he weren’t standing dispossessed in his own hall, having just watched his wife being tortured. Molyu, however, gave me a searching look, taking in the glory sphere and the chains, while Wyln looked at Pellan, his face still blank but his eyes flame filled. The commander frowned and started to move toward them.
“Let them be, Pellan,” Ilenaewyn said, and the commander stopped. “They’re impotent.” Dismissing us, he turned his head to look down one side of the table and then the other. “Are we ready?”
The Council members made various noises of assent.
“Good.” Denaewyn looked back at Pellan. “Bring them in.”
Pellan signaled once more, the other guarded chamber door opened, and Lord Gherat ibn Dru and Ambassador Sro Kenalt walked in. Archdoyen Obruesk smiled and gave a slight bow to Chancellor Berle—before he went to join them at the front of the dais.
Heedless of the iron collar, I threw my head back and howled with laughter. “Fools!” I cried. “Fools, fools, and three times fools!” A guard hit me again in my lower back, and I doubled sideways in pain, still laughing as tears rolled down my face.
Chapter Sixty-five
It was Chancellor Berle’s turn to stand with her mouth hanging open as she stared at Gherat, Obruesk and Kenalt arranging themselves in front of the High Council, making it clear that they were invited guests.
“I say, Berle.” Javes had managed to keep his quiz glass and now raised it to his good eye. “I thought you said that you were the only turncoat here.”
“You’re looking a little worse for wear, Javes,” Gherat said from where he stood, smiling. “Not quite your natty self.” He looked at Lord Esclaur and shook his head. “You also look beat, Esclaur. Rough day?”
“What’s—” The chancellor stopped and tried again; her voice rasped. “My lords, what’s happening here?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Berle?” Esclaur lisped around his split and bleeding lip. Even though one arm was dangling useless, he used the other to raise his own quiz glass at the trio by the council table. “You’ve been duped, indeed yes.”
Ilenaewyn looked up from where he and the rest of the Council were conferring. “What’s happening, Chancellor, is an investigation into charges that those close to Jusson of Iversterre, with his knowledge and approval, engaged in the murder and enslaving of the People.”
“But I—” Berle stopped, swallowed, and tried again. “I told you about them, about how the king didn’t know.”
“So you did,” a gnome Council member said, stroking his beard. “We don’t believe you.”
Gherat gave a genial smile.
“Vicar Obruesk and Gherat Dru’son have both testified to the Council how the human king encouraged the ‘poaching’ for sport and profit,” a sprite wearing water lilies and very little else said. She turned her gaze on me. “As they have also testified about his encouragement of Rabbit Two Trees’son’s sorceries.”
“A sorcerer,” Kenalt said, sounding shocked. He turned his gaze on Suiden. “My cousin, what have you done? You had so much, and now look at you. All because of a concubine. If only you had admitted your fault to the amir and begged his forgiveness!” He shook his head, his beaded braids clacking. “But now! Friend of dark wizards and others of ill intent. And smuggling! When you were once heir to the empire.”
Suiden said nothing, his green eyes fixed on his cousin.
Kenalt turned to the Council and bowed, hands and arms waving. “Sroene, I am exceedingly sorry to report that Prince Suiden, through rascally associates, sold goods and slaves stolen from the Border in our markets. This has been stopped and the amir is hunting down the miscreants to visit his wrath upon them.”
“Thank you, Ambassador Sro Kenalt,” Ilenaewyn said. “It is clear that the human kingdom is once again doing violence against us with such brutality that the Council has no recourse but to declare war—”
“No!” Berle clenched her fists. “You cannot—”
“Someone shut her up,” Ilenaewyn said. “She wearies me.”