“You’d think the ‘aggravated murder’ woulda been the one to get ’em,” I muttered under my breath.
This time, Shove That Gavel took half a step away from me, the farthest he could go given the five of us were shackled together around the wrists and ankles.Our fetters were made of iron imbued with shadole faithum—unbreakable.
Cosette’s wings buzzed behind her as the half dozen guards stationed at our backs—one for each of the men, two for me—crept forward.
“My investigation is complete.I have concluded, without a single doubt, that Prisoner 300033 is guilty of all stated charges.There is no reason to delay her sentencing or the execution of said sentence.”
Was it just me, or had Cosette emphasizedexecution?
Eager, if hushed, commentary swept across the crowd, which was growing, until the judge smacked her gavel again.
“Very well.Does anyone seek to defend Prisoner 300033?Speak now or cast your objection to the Ethers.”
With her gavel at the ready, she waited mere seconds before saying, “At the count of three, this magistrate will find for the Dominion unless someone rises to her defense.One … two…”
“Wait,” I said.“I will defend myself.”
With an infuriatingly smug little smile, the judge answered, “No.You denied the emperor and his empire.Ergo, you have no rights under the empire.Only a loyal subject can claim the right to defend you.Now, be silent.”
The judge drew back her gavel.“Two, and?—”
“Halt!”someone wheezed.
The crowd gasped.My heart stuttered.
I had no one.
And yet … was Cosette perhaps not an eager overachiever without a heart after all?Could she have gone to my parents?
The audience parted to reveal a panting goblin, clutching at his heaving chest.He opened his mouth, had to wait to catch his breath, and held up a finger.His hair was shock-white and wild around his face, which was even droopier than was usual for goblins.His frame was hunched, his legs extra thin, his knees knobby.Even the scales of his dragon-feet were starting to fade.They’d once, perhaps, been the vibrant orange of leaves turning color.
“Hoo,” he exhaled.“Just one more … moment please.”
Gavel Happy frowned.“Hurry it up, goblin.You’re wasting the magistrate’s time.”
She plucked a grape from a platter.It was plump, shiny, and beaded with condensation.
I salivated.
She tossed it into her mouth.
The goblin nodded to express imminent cooperation.He sucked in a few deep breaths.“My master bids you halt the trial of this prisoner and dismiss all charges against her.”
“The murderess?”Cosette asked.“No.She’s mine.”
So totally the eager, stone-hearted version, then.
The male judge looked between me, the parvnit, and finally the goblin.
“Who is your master to think he has such authority?”
The goblin brushed his hair from his face, patting it into some tidiness.After another marked inhale, his answer was steady.
“Drake Alonso D’Arco of the Zaraga Territory.”
Chapter9
The Scouting Calm Before the Strike
