“I’m afraid everyone believes Aldred. Or, at least, they say they do.”
I stifle a groan. “Aldred and his blackmailing.”
“That,” sighs Walker, “and I’m afraid the thrax still have some issues with the demonic side of your heritage. Long story short, everyone says they believe Myla killed Cryptan and you’re both trying—unsuccessfully—to frame Aldred. I’m sorry, brother.”
My heart sinks. Everyone thinks Lincoln’s a liar and I’m a murderer? Nasty.
“Don’t worry,” offers Cissy. “I’ve already submitted an injunction. They can’t imprison you, Myla. You’re a citizen of Purgatory until you’re…You know.”
Married. Which isn’t too comforting. Not that I’m telling Cissy that. She’s just trying to help.
At last, our little group turns down a new passageway. This one’s brightly lit with torches. A set of black doors towers at the far end of the corridor. My breath catches.
That’s the courtroom entrance.
I’ve never been inside this place before, but I’ve heard enough about it to know what to expect. Two guards in silver armor stand at the end of the hallway, one on either side of the doors. The Acca crest is embossed onto their breastplates.
My back teeth lock with frustration. Acca’s on duty. Of course.
Like the Vault and Cryptan, the thrax Houses take turns guarding the courtroom as well. The fact that Acca has duty today? Totes sketchy. Still, at least it’s only two warriors. Could be worse.
As we approach, the Acca dickheads move to block the entrance. The guard on the right is the first one to speak. “The courtroom is closed.”
Cissy sets her fists on her hips. “As Diplomatic Senator from Purgatory to Antrum, I’m supposed to be here.”
The guard’s helm angles toward Lincoln and me. “No one gets in with them.” The way the guard says the word “them,” it’s like we’re the plague.
Glancing over to Lincoln, I bob my brows and eye the door hungrily. Can we take them down?
Lincoln rubs his hand along his strong jawline.
Huh. He’s actually considering it. Usually, Lincoln’s big on giving people a chance to do the right thing, while I’m more of a “kill first and ask questions later” kind of girl.
“You get one chance, men.” Lincoln raises his hand. “Walker, crown.”
I purse my lips. If Lincoln is asking for his crown, things are about to get ugly. He only uses his signs of office when he wants to emphasize authority…And kick some butt. My tail flicks behind me in an anxious rhythm. I wish we could just battle our way inside, but this isn’t my realm, and I’m trying to be mature here.
“Trying” being the operative word in that sentence.
Walker reaches into the folds of his robes, pulls out a small circlet of silver, and tosses it to Lincoln. My guy catches his crown, seemingly without looking, and sets it perfectly atop his head. “I ask you once, as your Prince and future King.” Lincoln’s voice lowers. “The doors. Open them.”
In reply, the guards pull their long swords from their scabbards. The blades gleam in the firelight.
I catch Lincoln’s gaze again. Pure, cool rage lights in his mismatched eyes. He says seven words, and with that, we’re off. “I’ve got the guard on the left.”
I grin. “Right.”
After leaping up into the air, I double-kick the right-hand guard. My boots land flush against his visor. The guy’s helm topples to the ground with a satisfying clang. Next, my tail winds about the guard’s throat while I bend over at the waist. With a burst of supernatural force, my tail hauls the guard over the fulcrum of my back. The Acca dickwad goes flying down the hallway while letting out a sweet chorus of “ow” noises.
Nice.
Meanwhile, Lincoln ignites his baculum as two short swords. The guard raises his long sword and goes in for a death blow.
Lincoln shakes his head. “We don’t have time to parry, my friend.”
With fluid swipes, my guy slices across the left guard in a crisscross movement. A long moment follows while the guard stands frozen in place. After that, he tumbles to the ground in four neat pieces. For the record, I’m counting the bottom half of his legs twice.
I can’t help but smile. That was easy.
Time to go in and finish this.
Reaching forward, I yank on the golden handle. “Locked.” I roll my eyes.
Like this will really stop us.
Lincoln purses his lips. That’s his “I’ve had just about enough of this” face. “Let’s get in there.”
Moving in unison, Lincoln and I stand before the door and execute a front kick, putting all our weight behind it. The entrance splinters as the doors burst open.
Inside, the courtroom is a massive space that’s more cave than anything else. The walls are grey stone striped with white sediment. Iron braziers hang on chains from the ceiling. Long wooden benches line the floor. My forehead creases with surprise.
The place is almost empty. Huh.
You’d think if their high prince was about to be slapped in prison, there would be more folks around.