He’d stopped Thomas from curb stomping some poor fucker for standing up for his mate, and then he’d saved the dealer, even though he ended up covered in vomit.
We knew we couldn’t be sent to prison; we were only fifteen, and we were wards of the court anyway, so we didn’t give a shit about consequences.
We were cleaning up the streets in our ‘territory’, and we were both furious about being stopped. We were doing what the police couldn’t. We deserved respect for that.
I remembered it like it was yesterday, the stink of the stomach acids, the fury of the fight, the warmth of the blood we were both covered in, and there was Jonno. He’d picked us up enough to know who we were by that point, and he knew we were aggressive little shits, but that we did what we thought was…right. No matter what it cost us, we did what we thought was right, and he was there telling us why we were wrong. We disagreed; scum like that guy couldn’t be helped. They needed to be removed from the gene pool. Instead, he’d piled in there, getting fluids that could hold any number of diseases all over himself, all to help a goddamn drug dealer.
I’d asked him why, why he’d risked himself for that piece of shit, and he’d looked at me, world weary and sad as he shook his head. It wasn’t his place to decide who was worth saving, he’d said. For all he knew, he was a saint, or a murderer. The police don’t get to make that call, he’d said. Those entrusted with protecting don’t get to decide who lives and who dies. It was his place to save who he could, and in saving a piece of shit drug dealer, he saved us from being split up and sent to separate homes.
I remembered it all, come and gone in a second, and I compared that moment with now. In this new world, someone had to make the call. It couldn’t be a jury of peers, not yet. For now, democracy was going to take a back seat, and I would be the final arbiter of justice.
But spitting at me couldn’t mean death, or where would it end?
Would disagreeing with me be death next, or refusing to go to my bed? How short was the step from Justicar to Murderer? I swallowed hard, closing my eyes, and forcing the rage down.
When I opened them, Oren was still there, but he was watching me with a lot less fear.
I nodded to him, and he stepped aside. Bob backed away and Oracle returned to hover by my side. I waited, ignoring the acrid smell of urine and fear, until the men each looked up, making eye contact at the last.
“This is the last chance I’ll give you,” I whispered, my voice rough with suppressed emotion. “We need to know what happened down there. I will set you free, and you’ll follow the trail. I’ll be right behind you.”
“You’ll get a weapon each, and you can keep it, as well as some food. Once we’ve found the missing crew, you get to go in whatever direction you want, provided it’s away from my Tower. Or… I’ll do as I promised, and I’ll set you free right now. We’re over the lake, so you’ll survive the drop, probably. Provided you can swim, you’ll get to shore. You’ll have nothing from me, and you’ll be killed on sight by any of my people. Choose quickly.”
I stood there, my naginata pulsing with mana, and waited. It wasn’t long before the first spoke, and then the others quickly followed his lead.
“We…we’ll help…” I nodded once and stepped out of the ruins of the cage, moving past Lydia, who stared at me for a second before nodding and falling in behind me.
Oren returned to the raised deck, and I drew in a deep breath as I reached the railing, looking out over the water that sped along below us. It took me a long while to speak, but when I did, it was in a voice that shook slightly.
“Do you think I did wrong there?” I asked Lydia and included Oracle as she landed gently on the railing, flicking her legs over the side. It was a few seconds before Lydia responded, but eventually, her unusually subdued voice rose.
“It’s not my place to…”
“Bullshit. I asked you a question, Lydia. You’ve never been shy about your opinion before; tell me the truth,” I snapped, and instantly regretted it.
“You were angry,” she said eventually. “They spat at yeh, and yeh lost yer temper. I’ve seen yeh struggling with yer emotions for days; we all have, and people are startin’ to get worried. One minute, yer like a big brother to everyone, the strongest there is, honest and carin’ for us all. The next, yer like a wild animal. Yer need to watch yer temper.”
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I agreed. “They didn’t deserve to die for…”
“Yes, they did.” Lydia cut in suddenly, making me stop in surprise. “Yer the lord; if yeh didn’t like their hair, yer could kill ’em. That’s not what this is all about. Yer want ‘em dead, yer tell one of us, an’ we’ll do it, or do it yerself. When yer killed Toka, sent it flying off the Tower like that, we all knew why. We knew it deserved to die. Yer said to Makin that it had to be you what did it, that it had to be justice, not revenge.” I nodded, thinking back to that day, as she went on.
“Since then, yeh been throwin’ yerself into things, an’ working like a madman. We needed that, we know we did,
