Moonset

“I think we will, darling,” Illana said coolly from his side. She turned and addressed the sweating man. “Alexander?”

“I, for one, would like to hear what the boy has to say,” Alexander said. “And I want to know where they learned the spellform they used tonight.”

Ash sank down in her seat a bit. I had a feeling that no matter what happened tonight, they weren’t just going to forget that she knew spells that she hadn’t been legally authorized to know.

“I … ” And then I faltered. This wasn’t like trying to convince a principal not to expel us. This was worse. “We can’t be held accountable for something we didn’t do, unless you hold him accountable for the things he did.”

“And what is that?” Alexander asked.

“He kept the children in their last home and waited until a wraith attacked before he pulled them out. He’s shown a consistent disregard for their lives and health, and each one of you already know it. My grandfather spearheaded the campaign to bring the children here, all under the excuse of seeing what the warlock would do,” Quinn said, both his hands behind his back.

“That’s a violation of the law.”

“Bringing us here set into motion whatever Luca was planning,” I added. “The Harbinger that died did so because of the Maleficia. Isn’t he responsible if he makes choices that cost others their lives?”

Quinn didn’t volunteer anything else, and everyone stared at me, waiting.

“Is that everything?” Alexander asked, his fingers steepled in front of him.

I swallowed. “I know that you’ve been lying. All of you. Moonset stopped one of the Abyssals here once, and you covered it up. It’s name was Kore, and everything that Luca did was because the other Abyssals wanted revenge. Which they might have gotten since you brought my family and me here.”

The earlier silence exploded outward, as a dozen of the most powerful witches left in the world were united in a growing din of questions, condemnations, and dismissals. What was most telling, however, was that not one of them was silent.

“ENOUGH!” Robert’s thundering voice boomed across the table, and cut through the commentary like a knife. “Enough,” he repeated, his voice growing quiet but still just as firm. His eyes beaded up from across the table, his earlier contempt replaced with a newly stoked rage.

“You know nothing,” he spat.

Illana stood up, her back like a steel spike. “The Prince led Moonset down the path to darkness,” she said stiffly.

“Then why does everyone say Robert Cooper and Eventide were the ones to kill her?” Ash demanded.

“Who told you all this?” Robert trumpeted in a moment of quiet. He looked strangely smug all of a sudden.

“Luca,” I replied automatically, my guard up. “Before he died.”

“Convenient,” he replied, dragging out the word. “Although the boy hasn’t died,” he said, clapping his hands together. There was an implicit “yet” at the end of his words.

“What? But you said—”

“We said that your family and the girl were unharmed,” Illana provided. “But Luca Denton’s condition is a bit more … contentious.”

“Another tragedy for that poor family,” one of the women near Illana said under her breath, pressing a handkerchief against her lips.

“I think we’ve heard enough,” Illana said. “It’s clear what must be done, for the safety of our families.”

“Finally, you come to your senses,” Robert muttered. I don’t think he meant for anyone else to hear him, but we all did. “Once we move past the boy’s baseless accusation, we can decide how to proceed with their sentencing.”

“Are you mad?” Illana was taller than her husband, I realized. It was also clear that their marriage wasn’t full of sunshine and crossword puzzles. “You cannot bulldoze this through as you might once have, Robert.”

I started to smile. “The law is the law.”

He didn’t like that very much. “We are the law,” he replied coldly. “You are an inconvenience.”

“But the law protects me. A coven leader has the right, or rather the obligation, to lay a charge of Maleficia if he knows it has merit.” Thank god I read all those books while I was under suspension. “And the charge can’t be dropped just because you don’t like me.”

“Laws can be changed,” he said, his eyes growing more narrow by the moment.

“That’s enough, Robert,” Illana said, sounding exhausted. “The boy is right.” And then I was on the receiving end of that patented Illana Bryer death stare. “Completely inappropriate though he may be, he is also right. You cannot charge him without proving your own guilt. Any crimes he committed only occurred because he was brought to this town, and into contact with these people.”

“What say you?” Alexander asked, looking around the table. “Eventide arranged for the children to be brought here, hoping to draw the warlock out. Which they did, and with minimal casualties. Like it or not, they helped stop the warlock.” And then he waited, but no one else spoke up, no one offering a protest. “I think that’s your answer, Robert.”

Robert Cooper didn’t say anything.

“Then if we’re done here,” Quinn announced, “I’m taking my charges back home. If you plan to interrogate them, you can send someone to the house.” After a moment’s consideration, he added, “Tomorrow. After noon.”

“I’m not done yet.”

Quinn gave me a death glare of his own. “Justin.”

“No. They need to hear this.” I turned from him to address the rest of the Coven leaders.

“We’re not them. And you need to stop treating us like we are. Things need to change. We’re not Moonset the next generation.”

Illana cleared her throat. “We’ll take that under advisement. Now then, if that will be all,” she said as she indicated the door.

Quinn led us out of the office, but before I could follow after the others, a hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned, facing Illana.

“You don’t tease the hornet’s nest as much as you destroy it, do you?”

My forehead knotted up, and I glanced back into the conference room to see him staring at the two of us. “I can see why Quinn thinks your husband’s a dick.”

There was choked laughter coming from behind me, but Illana’s face remained smooth.

“Robert may not be the most … impartial viewpoint where you all are concerned,” she said, choosing each word carefully, “but he acts as he does out of precaution.”

“We didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, exhaustion starting to settle in. I don’t know why I thought I could convince Illana, but part of me did.

Her lips thinned. “Don’t overestimate yourselves. You won two victories tonight. But along the way you broke so many rules, violated trusts, and acted completely inappropriately. In my day, children would never speak to their elders like that.”

“Maybe we’ll teach him some manners,” Quinn interjected. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Illana stared at me, one of those hard stares that made it impossible to look away. “Just remember something,” she said softly. “Your parents did great deeds once, too.”

Thirty-One

“You piteous wastes did not take my life. I gave it.”

Sherrod Daggett Final Words