Oh, well. No reason to stand about.
Lincoln and I march forward down the center aisle. Across the huge cave, a small group of thrax sits on benches by the far wall, right before a raised platform. A huge stone throne-like chair sits upon that stage. In it sits a statuesque woman in flowing white robes.
The Arbiter.
My pulse quickens. I’ve heard about this woman. She’s another protector like Cryptan. In other words, she’s enchanted to sit in that chair forever and act as the one and only judge for all things thrax. However, unlike Cryptan, her courtroom gets a lot more traffic, so she’s not so isolated and twitchy. The Arbiter is as white as a statue, including her hair, skin, eyes, everything. It definitely contributes to whole otherworldly air she’s working.
As we approach the far side of the chamber, the room becomes silent. The front benches are filled with thrax in their medieval finery. The men wear chainmail shirts under their tunics, the emblems of their houses are emblazoned on their chests. The women wear long gowns in house colors.
I quickly scan the faces, my pulse speeding faster with every passing second. On the left-hand side of the chamber is everyone that I would consider to be on Team Lincoln and Myla: our parents along with Lucas, the Earl of Striga.
Not a lot of people on the left-hand side of the room, actually.
On the right half of the chamber, there’s Aldred and just about every other Earl in Antrum. Based on the scent of ripe adult hanging in the air, they’ve been in attendance all day, waiting to see if we’d show. Team Aldred has the other major Houses represented as well, namely Kamal and Horus. I’d expect that. But a ton of leaders from minor houses are here too. Even the Countess of Gurith is sitting with the enemy. Ouch.
No doubt Aldred pulled in every blackmail card in the deck to get everyone here as witnesses to the final failure of Lincoln and me. Creep.
We march closer to the judge, our footsteps echoing through the huge stone space. The attendees stare at us silently. Our families look super-happy. Everyone else? Not so much.
Lincoln and I pause before the raised platform. I have to crane my neck to look up at the Arbiter. Her all-white eyes soak us in. If she’s surprised that we’ve shown up at the last second, she doesn’t show it. “Who approaches the court?”
“Lincoln Vidar Osric Aquilus, High Prince of the House of Rixa.”
I give her a little wave. “Hi, there. I’m Myla Lewis, the Great Scala.”
From the benches to the right, Aldred hops to his feet. His almost-bald head is beaded with sweat. “Where are my guards?”
Lincoln glares at Aldred. “One’s unconscious.”
I raise my hand. “That was me.”
“The other?” Lincoln keeps up his stare-fest. “Came at me with his sword.” He doesn’t need to add the bit about the guy ending up dead.
“Did you hear him?” Aldred gasps. “These two fight and kill for no reason. My guard is only the latest casualty. Don’t you all see? Our so-called prince is no more.” He points right at me. “He’s fallen under the spell of this lust demon, the same one who killed Cryptan.”
The thrax in the right-hand seats all nod. A few even murmur out the odd “huzzah.”
I set my fist on my hip. “Really, guys? Sure, I’m part demon, but I’m also the Great Scala. I could, can, and—let’s face it—after this I probably will send all your souls to Hell after you die. Doesn’t it occur to you to maybe suck up to me a little?”
One of the minor Earls waves his fist in the air. “Demon! Temptress! You’re not meant to be the Scala. It’s always been a thrax, and will be so again.”
“Quite right,” adds Aldred. “Her presence is a sign of our negligence. By leaving behind our precious traditions, we have brought this scandal upon our own heads. It wasn’t I who brought Armageddon into Antrum. It was them! They lured my sweet daughter to her death.” Aldred pounds his chest. “Under the rule of my House, none of this would have happened.”
At this point, all the folks on Aldred’s side of the courtroom do the equivalent of whistling guiltily while staring at the ceiling and going nu-ne-nu-ne-nuuu. They all know what a mess it would be to have Acca run things; they’re too wussed out to say so.
“Let’s think.” I tap my chin. “Why did you guys lose the throne? That’s right. Everyone was starving to death.”
Aldred’s face flushes pink. “You demon-tailed bitch!”
“That’s enough,” says Lincoln. His voice comes out deadly low.
For its part, my tail touches my mouth as it blows air kisses at Aldred. His face goes from pink to bright red. Say what you want about my tail, it has a demonic sense of how best to piss someone off.
The Arbiter raises her arm. The room quiets. “This court judges on evidence alone.” She turns her all-white gaze to us. “You have some?”
“Yes, we do.” I slip my pack off my shoulders and pull out the codex. “We’ve gathered tons of testimony.”