"Fae." The word dripped with contempt from a third elder. "Fae who broke the world. Who created this corruption that has eaten our lands for six centuries. And you bring them here, to our last sanctuary?"
"To fix what was broken," Karse insisted.
"Too late!" A younger Drak in the crowd shouted. "Where were you when the corruption took the eastern groves? When it consumed the spawning pools? When our children were born twisted and wrong?"
Others took up the cry, anger building like a physical force in the chamber. Briar could feel the rage, centuries of it, pressing against her from all sides.
"Silence," Mor'va commanded, and the crowd obeyed, though the anger remained palpable. She turned her attention to the group. "You bring strange company, Exile. The Forest King who rules through cruelty. The Star Prince who offers false hope. Warriors and water-workers and—" Her gaze settled on Briar. "Something else. Something that shouldn't exist."
The warmth in her chest pulsed in response to the scrutiny, pressing against the restraints, wanting to react.
"She's the key," Karse said quickly. "Without her, the seal can't be reinforced. She carries—"
"I can sense what she carries," Mor'va cut him off. "Old magic. Dangerous magic. The kind that breaks worlds." She studied Briar with those ancient eyes. "You've killed recently, child. I can smell it on you. Fae blood, freshly spilled."
Briar said nothing. What could she say? That she'd killed in self-defense? That Ferria had deserved it? The truth wouldn't matter to people who'd suffered for six centuries because of fae actions.
"They're all killers," the scarred elder said. "Look at them. Soaked in blood and violence, bringing their wars to our door."
"We're trying to help," Arion said, speaking for the first time.
The Council's attention shifted to him, and something strange passed across Mor'va's face. She studied him for a long moment, then looked at Eliam, then back again.
"Interesting," she murmured. "Very interesting." She stood, moving with surprising grace for her age. "The charges against Karse Isragan are thus: abandonment of duty,collaboration with the enemy, and bringing threats into sacred land." She looked at each of them in turn. "The charges against the fae are: trespass, bearing weapons in our territory, and carrying magic that could destroy what little safety we have left."
"Elder Mor'va," Karse started.
"The traditional punishment for these crimes is death," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "However, given the unusual circumstances, I propose an alternative."
The other elders shifted, some nodding, others frowning. Whatever she was about to suggest, not all of them agreed with it.
"A trial," Mor'va said. "Ancient law states that those accused may prove their innocence through ordeal. Success means safe passage to the seal. Failure means death."
"What kind of trial?" Eliam asked, his voice carefully controlled.
Mor'va smiled, showing teeth worn down by centuries but still sharp. "There is a cave to the north. For the past fifty years, we've sent warriors there seeking something that might help us fight the corruption. None have returned." She paused, letting that sink in. "The Exile will enter. If he survives and retrieves what lies within, you may all continue to the seal. If he fails, his body joins the others who thought themselves strong enough."
"I accept," Karse said immediately, his voice steady despite what she was asking of him.
"Of course you do," the scarred elder said with satisfaction. "Finally, the Exile faces consequences."
Briar's mind raced. Karse was their guide, the only one who knew where the seal was, how to navigate the corrupted lands. Without him, they'd never make it. Without him, Malus would win. The memory of freeing him during the Hunt surfaced—her hands working the locks on his chains while hunters closed in, giving him the chance to escape. And afterward, how he'd twisted it, claimed she belonged to him until the debt was paid...
"Wait," she said, the words tumbling out before she'd thought them through. "Karse owes me a life debt."
The chamber went silent. Every Drak turned to stare at her, and she felt the weight of their attention like a physical thing.
Karse's head snapped toward her, his golden eyes wide with horror. "No. Don't—"
"I saved his life during the Wild Hunt," Briar continued, desperate now, thinking she'd found a solution. "I freed him from iron chains when he was captured, dying.He would have been killed by the hunters if I hadn't freed him." She looked at Mor'va, hoping the elder would understand. "He said it himself afterward—my life belongs to him until the debt is paid. But that's backwards, isn't it? He owes me. Can't I... refuse to let him risk himself? Demand he stay safe until the debt is paid?"
Mor'va's ancient eyes narrowed, and surprise flickered across her features. "You invoke the law of life debt?"
"Stop talking," Karse hissed desperately. "You don't know what you're—"
"I invoke it," Briar said firmly. "His life belongs to me until the debt is paid, doesn't it? So I say he can't face this trial."
The other elders exchanged glances, some looking surprised, others calculating. The scarred elder actually smiled.
