“Here it is,” Makiko murmured.
Ezra raised his head, and I lowered my ice pack as she pointed a remote at the wall-mounted TV. The screen came on. A few clicks on her laptop, and the MPD’s white website filled the television so we could all see it.
The webpage layout was familiar—a bounty posting—but large red text at the top declared, “LEVEL 2 CLASSIFIED.”
I skimmed the text, the chill in my blood deepening with each line. Ezra’s personal details were clearly laid out, from his age to his guild to his home address. The dates for the MPD investigation—February 13-14—were followed by a description of the “Emergency Judiciary Council Hearing under Code 12-03-006,” with their ruling of the death sentence.
“‘Investigation results,’” I read aloud. “‘A witness from the Keys of Solomon guild reported on February 12 at 18:08 that mythic Ezra Rowe assaulted and wounded a combat team in the Capilano View Cemetery. The witness further alleged that the suspect demonstrated magic consistent with illegal demon magery. Witness testimony has corroborated submitted evidence.’”
As I finished reading, Makiko guided her cursor to a file attached to the case, labeled “C19-1382-Evidence-01”, and double-clicked it. A window popped open and a video filled it. The shaky phone camera blurred in and out of focus as it was pointed through winter-bare shrubs at a patch of green grass.
Three men circled a fourth, who had a weird red smear obscuring his outstretched arm. It sort of looked like a glitch in the recording or a light reflection.
Scarlet flashed, and the screen went completely red, then white. A female voice gasped.
“Demon magic!” she exclaimed in a horrified whisper. “He’s using—oh my god!”
The video cleared, revealing craters in the ground and dirt sifting down to earth. In the bottom corner, a woman with wild red hair—me—tackled a guy in the legs while a pale streak flickered nearby. Hoshi, I was guessing.
“He’s going to kill them!” the camerawoman gasped. “Oh god, he—no!”
The screen went crimson again, and explosive noise screeched across the speakers.
Makiko paused the video, and silence fell over the room. The frame frozen on the screen showed a weird streaky smear of white and red. Magic didn’t photograph—or record—well, but the camera had picked up enough.
Aaron rubbed a hand over his face and into his hair. “You were set up.”
“By a Keys of Solomon member?” I ground out. “Why is a Keys member even here? Were those other cultists affiliated with the Keys too?”
Ezra’s jaw was clenched. “I don’t know about them, but the woman recording the video—I’d know her voice anywhere.”
Our heads swiveled toward him as he stared at the screen, crimson flaring in his left eye.
“Xanthe. She set me up, recorded the video, and reported me to the MPD.”
The “Magna Ducissa” of the Court of the Red Queen, Xanthe was a mentalist with the power to control anyone in her line of sight and force them to commit any act she desired.
“Xanthe is a Keys of Solomon member?” I rasped, fighting the emotions clogging my chest. “She was—the whole time we were—they—”
I stammered into silence as the urge to scream ballooned in my chest, compressing my lungs. I wanted to rage and shriek and cry at the unfairness, at the hopelessness. We’d tried to identify cult moles in the Keys guild. We’d wondered who was left. We’d puzzled over how the Court could’ve infiltrated such a powerful, anti-demon guild.
And all along, one of the cult’s dangerous leaders was inside the guild, using her terrifying psychic ability to sway its members.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Aaron muttered. “This doesn’t mean she’s actually a member of—wait. Shit. How did I not realize it?”
“Realize what?” I demanded.
“Remember the video footage Blake showed us of the cultist who hanged himself in the Keys’ lockup cell eight years ago? A dark-haired woman visited him before he committed suicide.”
My limbs went cold. Xanthe again. It had to be her. She must’ve used her power to make that man kill himself—which meant she’d infiltrated the Keys eight or more years ago.
“Why?” I burst out. “Why set us up? Why reveal Ezra to the MPD? Wouldn’t it be safer for the cult to just kill us all?”
Kai shook his head. “That was probably their plan until Darius started telling everyone there was a demon cult in Vancouver. Killing Ezra can’t undo that, so the Court has given MagiPol and the other guilds a demon mage to hunt instead.”
“And they’ve discredited Darius in the process.” Makiko clicked out of the paused video. “Now everyone will think Darius has no idea what’s going on in his own guild, or that he’s throwing around accusations to hide his own secrets.”
That urge to scream—or cry—was getting stronger and stronger, and I had to gulp several times. “Can’t you do something? A second GM confirming his story about the cult could make a big difference.”
“I have no proof,” she said quietly. “And if I reveal I was traveling with you, it’ll cast more doubt on our stories. Besides …” Her lips thinned. “The family comes first. I can’t jeopardize that.”
Aaron’s hands formed tight fists. “So, Ezra has a death-sentence bounty on his head, and Tori, Kai, and I have been charged with harboring a demon mage, and”—he gestured at the screen with the bounty information—“the Crow and Hammer’s guild license has been suspended pending an investigation. Now what?”
“If I’m not a demon mage,” Ezra said, “then the Keys of Solomon’s evidence is no more than baseless allegations. We can turn the spotlight back on them and the cult.”
“But they have a video of you using demon magic,” I pointed out despairingly.
“They have a video of a woman claiming I’m using demon magic. Magic doesn’t record properly. The video only shows splotches of red light.” He looked between us. “There’s no way to convince MagiPol that I’m not a demon mage unless I’m not a demon mage. It’s the first and most important step to saving you three and the guild
