“She could be lying,” the Asher woman who didn’t seem to like my aunt said.
“I’m not lying!” I said hotly.
“She could be bespelled,” the woman—Melanie—said. “Demons can do that.”
“Enchanting humans is against the treaty,” another woman said.
“So is a high demon staying in Talum without giving us notice,” Melanie snapped back.
“And so is detaining a shayd who has broken no laws,” Aunt Tirtzah said coldly. “Which Daziel has not.”
“Tirtzah’s right. We can’t keep him locked up,” the Chief Judge said. “We might as well release him into your custody. You can keep an eye on him, and we won’t be accused of breaking the treaty.”
“They’re already going to accuse us of it, given how we treated him,” a man who hadn’t spoken before said.
“Reasonable need,” said another. I couldn’t keep track of everyone; my head was whirling trying to remember who said what, who was on our side and who against. “They’ll agree.”
“Since when have shedim been reasonable?” a councilor in mustard-colored robes said.
Melanie scowled. “You’re not seriously considering letting out a powerful high demon?”
“We can’t aggravate our own allies,” another man said. “I say we release him to Tirtzah.”
“Tirtzah has served for merely three years,” someone in teal said. “She’s hardly the best equipped to house a shayd.”
“And precisely where do you think the shaydshouldbe housed to prevent his people from descending in fury?” a woman asked caustically.
“I say we banish him!” someone yelled.
The room descended into outright chaos, Sanhedrin members shouting back and forth, some standing to make their point, othersthumping fists against their stands. I watched with wide eyes. These were the people running our country. Weren’t they supposed to have it together?
“Enough,” the Chief Judge finally said. When no one listened, he banged his gavel against his desk. “Enough!”
Reluctant silence fell.
“Let us not alienate our allies. Keep eyes on them, yes. Keep them locked up? No. We’ll let him go. Tirtzah—I hope you understand your responsibilities here.”
“Yes, Judge.”
“Good.” He rubbed his head and looked at me. “You trust him, girl?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
He sighed wearily. “It is what it is. Shall we bring him in?”
The Danite beside the chief shook his head. “Better to bring Tirtzah’s niece to him. It should agitate him less.”
“Very well.” The Chief Judge waved a hand, and we were shown out.
I thought we’d be brought to dungeons or someplace grim, but it turned out to be the opposite. The Speaker of the Sanhedrin and two attendants led us up a grand staircase and down the most elegant hall I’d ever seen, with long blue carpets and gilt-framed landscapes on the walls. Our guides stopped at a tall door guarded by six soldiers. My brows shot up. “Seriously?” I muttered to my aunt.
She nudged me, a warning to stay silent.
An elaborate locking spell had been carved into the door and the walls surrounding it. This room was a prison, despite its gorgeous surroundings.
In the middle of the door, a clay tablet had been set. TheSpeaker accepted a small box from one of the attendants and removed a plate with raised charaktêres. He pressed the plate into the clay, leaving behind the charaktêres’ impressions. A spell to unlock the door, complicated enough he didn’t wish to write it by hand. After spreading a gleaming thimble of pure neshem oil across the charaktêres, he read the spell.
The door glided open, revealing a chamber half the size of a floor at Testylier House.
