“Sounds more like a nightmare to me. Imagine, no Firym,” Havoc said with a mock shudder and smiled at her.
“How are you so chipper without sleep?” she asked, her eyes scanning her cell for something to drink. “Do you have any water out there?” she asked, looking up from her failed search.
“I don’t need much sleep, I’m never chipper, and I don’t drink water,” Havoc replied. He shifted his cloak slightly and produced a flask from an inner pocket. “I have Firewater though,” he offered.
“I’d rather die of dehydration,” she replied quietly.
“Technically, alcohol dehydrates you more anyway,” Havoc responded with a smirk.
“I have water,” Victory said, speaking up at last and handed a flask through the bars to her. “You have about twenty minutes before they call for you. The first of the high lords started arriving about an hour ago,” he informed her as she took a long pull from the flask.
Nodding slightly, she handed it back to him and yawned. “I’m in fine form for it,” she muttered and examined the bars of the cell. Sleep had returned most of her magic to her but she didn’t want to go into the council missing a drop of her power. The bars should hold more than enough to refill her, though, after Hemlock’s time magic earlier this morning.
Pulling on her magic she used a quick cleaning spell on herself and then altered her clothing to a dress finer than any she had ever worn. Glancing down at herself she nodded with approval at the dark purple silks. The low cut bodice was lined with gems and the skirts were cut high on the sides in the Firym fashion. With another yawn, she altered her shoes and created a long silver jacket similar to the one Fortune had gifted her, only sleeveless. Pausing, she looked around the room for anything she could use as a mirror. Finding nothing even remotely reflective she let out a disgusted grumble and used her magic to create one on the far wall.
“You’ve gotten rather good at the mage craft since the last time we saw you,” Havoc said quietly as he watched her creating jewelry.
“I practice a lot,” she replied with a shrug. “Hair up or down?” she asked.
“Up,” Victory responded at the same time Havoc said “Down,”
“Loads of help,” she muttered.
“Up with jewels like you wore on your wedding. The ones that sparkled with light,” Jail said from across the room.
“Up it is with sparkly jewels,” Jala said with a nod and began the process of fixing her hair as Jail suggested. “Who is here so far?” she asked quietly.
“Arjuna, of course. Zachary, Kadandelvayan, and Jaradon Faydwer on our side so far,” Havoc replied.
“We don’t know Kadan is on our side. We were banking on Neph sitting on the council today,” Victory corrected him.
“What about Micah and Chastity?’ Jala asked glancing over her shoulder.
“They aren’t here yet,” Victory replied quietly.
“Who is here against me?” Jala asked.
Silence filled the room. “Avanti, Morcaillo, Rivasa, Nerathane, and Seravae are here as well, though we don’t know what side he stands on,” Jail answered at last.
“So it’s an even vote if the Lord Reaver doesn’t vote and I lose if he votes against me,” Jala concluded with a sinking feeling.
“He arrived here in the company of Myth Morcaillo,” Victory said, his tone somber.
“What about Han’shy?” Jala asked. Yesterday they had all assured her that Jin Han’shy would support her.
“My father hasn’t arrived yet. I’m not sure why he isn’t here,” Jail replied.
“I suspect our missing lords may have had unforeseen difficulties,” Victory said with a sigh. “It would be a typical Avanti ploy to sabotage a vote.”
“The only thing that might alter things now would be rock solid evidence as to who you are,” Jail added quietly.
“I see no way we can arrange that,” Havoc muttered.
“Give me a minute to think,” Jala said, gazing at her reflection in the mirror as she began to brainstorm. Naturally, it was too much to ask that not all of the high lords show up for her trial. For, being as powerless as she was, she certainly seemed to attract a lot of attention. Slowly she turned from the mirror and began to pace the cell, her gaze on the floor as her mind worked.
The sound of the door opening drew her attention back and she watched the High Commander of the Justicars enter the room in his full regalia. While Kellis himself was not a handsome man, his shining armor and plush white fur cloak lent him a regal quality. “They are ready for the prisoner,” Kellis declared, putting extra emphasis on the word prisoner.
Nodding, Jala moved to the cell door and rested a hand on one of the bars while she waited for him to unlock it. With a faint smile she pulled on the magic stored in the Barllen and refilled her reserves. Kellis glanced at her hand several times as he searched for the proper key and seemed rather irritated at her touching the metal without suffering. Finding the key at last, he pulled the door open and motioned her out with a snap of his hand. Smiling as if he had just held the door for her at a fine restaurant, Jala stepped out and nodded respectfully to him, which seemed to increase his irritation.
“Are you ready?” Havoc asked quietly as he and Victory fell into step behind her.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jala replied and prayed to Fortune her plan worked. It was hastily made to be sure, but if she played her cards right, the gamble might pay off.
*
The council room was brightly lit with a large marble table carefully placed in the center of the room. There were twenty chairs total but only nine were occupied. Scanning the faces Jala picked out the ones she knew by their colors and placed names to the ones she didn’t. Nodding respectfully to them, she moved to the closest chair and sat.