Chapter Twenty-One
I said pipe down!" Vivian said crossly when the room reacted to the doors locking. Trent tried to quiet Lucy with an offered pinkie, and she protested, refusing it. Behind me, my mother piled her stuff on the empty seat next to her and settled in, completely unfazed. Pierce ran a nervous hand over his soft curls, taking his hat off and dropping his hand to finger his stolen badge.
"You will shut up!" Vivian shouted, cheeks coloring when Oliver said something only those on the stage could hear. "As the junior member of the coven, it's my responsibility to maintain order at these proceedings, and you will be silent or I'll gag you myself!"
My mother leaned forward, between Pierce and me. "She's a bit of a hard-ass," she said, and Jenks buzzed his wings.
"You've no idea, Ms. Morgan," he said. Then he sat on my shoulder, his wings tickling my neck. It was good to have him back.
Vivian put her hands on her hips and waited, frowning. Slowly the witches grew silent as she used a sixth-grade-teacher stare on them. I put a hand on my stomach, feeling sick. Everyone I cared about was around me. Oliver had promised to clear my name if I publicly apologized for using black magic and never went to the press with the fact that witches were stunted demons. I had held up my end of the bargain, even when the coven had tried to off me, but Trent, playing peekaboo with Lucy, believed they'd back out of it, scared I'd go to the press with the ugly truth anyway. If Oliver called my bluff, I didn't know if I could do it. Not only would it destroy our society, but it would upset the balance of everyone else's. I'll hurt him. I'll friggin' make Oliver sorry if he screws me over.
I jumped when Pierce touched me, a slow trickle of broken ever-after turning into a rush that made me feel ill once he had my attention. "You need this," he said, slipping me the security amulet.
"Pierce, no," I whispered, not taking my eyes off the stage as I tried to shove it back into his hands, but he only dropped it in my pocket. Neither one of us was touching it, but it was a ley-line charm, and I tried to dampen the flow to something that didn't feel like tinfoil on teeth. My headache eased, and I was starting to wonder if I needed to be in touch with a ley line to feel good.
"Thank you," I whispered, and he sat in his chair, totally happy with himself.
"It's a trifle," he said, and I touched his hand with my free one, completing the circuit and giving him a taste.
"I mean, for being here with me," I said, and he smiled.
"I know." From my other side, Trent sighed dramatically, and Pierce pulled away, turning his attention to the stage.
"Thank you," Vivian said sarcastically, not a hint of overdone dramatic flair in her speech. "This is going to be a long night, and I want it done before sunrise so you princess wannabes can hit the fairy ball on the beach, so I'm going to throw out all the dramatic crap you're all used to from Oliver and cut to the chase."
The casual, matter-of-fact manner in which she was conducting herself had caused a stir, but I was relieved. Vivian was a bit of fire and spit, and I didn't think I could stomach seeing her standing before us in robes and speaking with the airy distance of pomp and circumstance.
"This doesn't mean I will be dispensing with the rules," she said, accentuating the word as if talking to Oliver alone. "And since we can't do anything without a full quorum, we're going to take five minutes and swear in a new coven member."
Beside me, Pierce trembled. His hands formed fists, and then he opened them, setting them on his pants with his fingers spread wide. There was an excited reaction from the crowd, and my attention went to the five hopefuls sitting in the same row we were but on the other side of the theater.
"Initiates?" Vivian said, her mood shifting to one of ceremony.
"Excuse me," Pierce said as he stood, causing a stir among the people who noticed him.
Trent looked up at him in surprise. "Where is he going?"
I didn't answer, instead leaning back when Ivy touched my shoulder and whispered, "This should be interesting."
Vivian hadn't noticed him crossing to the second set of stairs, focused on the other five hopefuls coming up the left side. "After much deliberation...," she began, then hesitated as the crowd reacted to Pierce taking the stage and walking steadily forward. Vivian turned to him, and I swear her eyes held amused anticipation.
Pierce halted, just shy of center stage. "May I approach, Madam Coven Member?" he asked, voice booming so he could be heard without an amulet.
Oliver reached to touch his own amulet. "No," he said flatly, and Vivian gave him a withering look.
"You gave me this job, Oliver," she said sharply. "Let me do it." And as Oliver frowned, she turned and dramatically crossed the stage to hand him another amulet. "The coven recognizes Gordian Pierce."
Pierce fingered the metal ring, his eyes going everywhere but to me as he took off his coat and went to set it over the podium. Slowly he took over the stage without saying a word. His head came up, and the crowd became still. He wasn't wearing anything unusual, just brown slacks, a white shirt, and that flamboyant vest, carefully buttoned and holding a pocket watch. The way he carried himself evolved as he stood there, and I stifled a shiver as Trent grunted in surprise. He was different, dangerous. And I had no idea what he was going to do.
"I'm of a mind to beg your pardon, Madam Coven Member," he said softly, his words going out perfectly with the help of the amulet. "And with all due respect to those fine witches you have assembled here, sworn in and ready to commit their lives to service, there is no coven opening. I am here.
I am the sixth. And that's all the pie there is."
The crowd stirred, most of the noise swallowed up by the space. With a sliding sound of wood, Oliver stood. "Get him out of here!" he roared, stirring the people into a buzzing whisper.
Pierce didn't recognize him, fixed on Vivian, waiting out the noise.
"You are a black witch!" Oliver shouted. "Shunned and-"
Pierce spun, and Oliver's words choked off. "Bricked into the ground, aye, where I gasped out my last, six feet under, buried alive and breaking my nails to bloody stumps as I tried to claw my way free. And I died despite it. But I'm a coven member nonetheless, and I have returned to claim my position. And 156 years of back pay."
Ivy leaned forward and tapped my shoulder. "I take back everything I said about your sleeping with him."
"Gee, thanks," I said dryly, and Trent stifled a guffaw. Jenks, though, clattered his wings for us to shut up so he could hear.
The other coven members put their heads together, and I waited, watching them. Amanda looked scared, Oliver full of bluster, Wyatt peeved, and Leon like he wanted it to be over.
It took only a moment, and then Oliver said, "You are a black witch, tried and condemned. You have lost your claim. Security!"
Dropping back a step, Pierce took a stiff stance. I knew he couldn't tap a line, but it was dramatic, and the approaching men halted before they even hit the puddle of light.
"I will be heard!" he shouted, eyes angry. "This meeting, called for Rachel Morgan to apologize for using black magic in her effort to save lives, is a farce. The goal here is to validate or deny the use of black magic for the greater good, not apologize for using it. I opine that until you make a fist of the issue, I have a claim!"
Vivian waved security back, and Pierce relaxed. From the audience rose a nervous murmur. Oliver, though, seemed too catty for my comfort. He looked to his left, then his right, to get everyone's opinion and their nods, and sat back down with a magnanimous gesture.
Crap, it was all or nothing now. Apologizing wasn't going to do it. I had to justify myself. Thanks, Pierce.
Vivian's smile grew wide, as if that was a good thing, and I let out a breath, unaware that I'd been holding it. "The vacant coven membership remains in question then," she said, glancing back into the wings to someone on the support staff. "All in favor of exploring the validity of legalizing black magic in specific people for the intent of the greater good and using the case of Rachel Morgan as the cornerstone?"
As one, they all muttered their ayes.
"Opposed?"
It was simply a formality, but no one breathed as she waited to the count of five. Clearly pleased, Vivian looked down at me, and my heart stopped. "Rachel, is this okay with you?"
"S-sure," I stammered when Trent jabbed his elbow into me.
"Can we have two more chairs up here?" Vivian asked someone in the wings, and a skinny, tall man in black slacks and shirt emerged with two plain brown folding chairs.
"Well, get your ass up there," Jenks said, and I had a moment of panic.
"Wish me luck," I whispered as I set my bag on my chair and stood. I was feeling Jenks's loss already as he stayed, perched on the back of my chair, beside Trent, where his dust sifted over a cooing Lucy, reaching for him with her little hands.
I felt unreal as I watched my steps, head down and looking at the red-and-silver pattern in the carpet as I made my way to the stage. The stairs had treads on them, but I still held the railing as I went up, my palms starting to sweat. Someone in the crowd hissed as I found the light. It was warm up here, but I shivered. Pierce stood beside the podium where the two new chairs waited. He wasn't smiling. And I was so friggin' scared.
"Come on, Rachel!" Jenks shrilled. "You're a badass, not a bad witch!"
My head came up, jaw clenched. He was right, and I gave him a bunny-eared kiss-kiss. Someone laughed. I couldn't see who it was through the lights, but I breathed easier.
Vivian's Mobius-strip pin caught the glint of the spotlight, and wisps of her blond hair that had escaped her elaborate coiffure drifted in the heat as she approached me. Confident and sure, she looked miles away from the tangled mess in the back of my car. Handing me my amplification amulet, she gave my shoulder a squeeze to publicly show her support. It was a bold move on her part, and I appreciated it. She couldn't be fired, but as Pierce had proved, you could be retired.
"It's a ley-line charm," she said. "But you have to touch it for it to work. Good luck."
"Thanks." I looped the amulet over my head, making sure that the small disc wasn't touching skin. I didn't want anyone hearing my private words to Pierce.
He sat a moment after I did, and I tried to look attractive but not slutty in my leather dress. I had a moment's thought for the cap I'd forgotten, on the couch back at the hotel, and then I turned to Pierce as he said, "Are you well?"
"I'm okay. Yourself?" I was going to puke. I knew it.
Pierce sent his gaze into the glare. "About the same. Having died once, the outcome of a public trial has lost much of its threat."
"I'd think it would be the other way around," I said, then jerked when Vivian called my name. She was back at the podium, waiting.
"Rachel? I think everyone knows why you're here. Would you like to say anything?"
Some of the crowd muttered, and I thought I heard "black witch," but I stood, trying to gather everyone's attention with a moment of silence. I picked out Trent through the glare, thinking he looked worried as he tried to keep Lucy quiet. I daren't look at my mother or Ivy, and Jenks was too small. This would be tricky. If I lied, the silver bell on the table would ring. I had come here under the lie of having been forced into black magic to test Trent's security systems. That wasn't the issue anymore, and I'd have to be careful with what I said.
Finally there was silence. I took a breath. Feeling dizzy, I reached to touch my amulet. "I'm here because of manipulation by both the coven and outside forces, and I'm claiming my shunning should be permanently annulled."
You'd think I'd dropped a bloody vampire into a sweet-sixteen pajama party. The crowd burst into noise, and I felt sick when from up in the balcony, the chant "Burn her, burn her" drifted down.
"Steady, Rachel," Pierce said, his eyes narrowed as he sat beside me. "They're ignorant and frightened."
"Yeah, but they can still kill me," I said, thinking longingly of my kitchen.
"Enough!" Vivian shouted. "You want me to clear the auditorium and do this behind closed doors?"
Fear tightened my shoulders, and I almost panicked. A private "trial" would be my end. The threat of my going public with our origins would be gone. I'd never even get my say, but would be shoved on a boat and be on my way to Alcatraz on the midnight run. But Vivian was only trying to get them to be quiet, and it worked. Still holding her frown, aimed at the crowd, she gestured for me to continue.
"I was forced into learning black magic in order to survive," I said truthfully, nodding to Trent, in the first row. That a hundred circumstances had forced me, not Trent, was beside the point, and I couldn't help it if they thought I was talking about him. "I know black magic, but I've never hurt anyone but myself. And I'm not going to apologize for it." My eye twitched as I thought of the fairies, and from the coven's table, there was a tiny ping of sound as the silver bell rang, giving evidence of my lie.
"No, that's a lie," I quickly amended as the crowd stirred. "I killed fairies to keep them from burning down my church and massacring my partner and his family when the coven started taking potshots at me. But I've never hurt anyone who wasn't trying to kill me first."
The crowd responded with an almost disappointed ferocity. I felt my face pale when I realized that these people, whom I counted as my own, were actually eager for my blood. They reminded me of Trent's dogs, and my knees became weak.
"I'm sorry, Rachel," Pierce said, touching my hand. "I'm so sorry."
"Fairies aren't real people!" Jenks shrilled, his familiar voice cutting through the noise. "That doesn't count."
Oliver leaned forward to pour himself a cup of water, looking too satisfied to live. "But Rachel believes they are people, and she used black magic to kill them," he said as he touched his amulet. "I say it stands."
I could see the rest of the night with crystal clarity. Vivian would be on my side, but Oliver would pick holes in everything until there would be nothing left of my defense. I found Trent in the haze, and he shrugged, having known it already. Frightened, I took a breath to refute the statement, though I didn't know how.
Pierce stood, surprising the crowd into soft whispering. "I was there when Rachel twisted the curse to burn the fairies," he said. "I was part of it as much as she was. More so. There was no way to survive but for burning them. Rachel took part, but she drew the curse back into herself at great cost before it was fully invoked, turning a deadly curse into a nonlethal one, saving most of the fairies at great hurt to herself."
"She drew a curse into herself and survived?" someone shouted. "She's a demon, that's what she is!"
My eyes widened, and I swear, my heart stopped. I looked to Trent, panicked. I hadn't told. I hadn't told anyone!
Everyone in the audience started talking, and Oliver just sat back and enjoyed it, arms crossed in confidence. I was going to be branded a black witch and sentenced to Alcatraz. There was no way around it. Damn it, Al was going to win.
"The issue at hand is not whether killing fairies is lawful!" Trent shouted as he stood, and those around him quieted. "Who here hasn't accidentally killed one of the winged folk? It's a tragedy, but should we all be considered murderers for it?"
I exhaled and let go of Pierce's hand, then winced when he shook it, trying to get the circulation back. I hadn't even known I'd taken it. Jeez, I probably looked like a scared little girl. And Trent had spoken for me?
Vivian walked to the podium and pulled another amulet from under it. "The coven recognizes Trenton Kalamack."
I'll give Trent one thing. He knew how to make an entrance. He was already halfway to the stairs, and Lucy babbled as he took them. The crowd's noise rose and fell, and I detected a softening. It was hard to think ugly thoughts when you were watching a highly successful businessman with a happy baby in his arms.
Trent and Vivian murmured a few words, their heads almost touching, and then he took the amulet. Lucy's cooing rang out, and then Trent disentangled her little fingers from the amulet, whispering to her in what sounded like another language. The crowd liked that, and I wondered if he'd done it intentionally. Trent gathered himself, and when he looked pointedly at me, I sat down, my chair scraping. That same guy brought a third chair out, placing it between me and the podium.
"If I may continue," Trent said, not sitting, and Pierce touched my knee, stilling my bobbing foot. "Should Rachel Morgan be held accountable for her actions when she was manipulated by outside forces into a place where to survive she had to learn a dark skill? Forced to learn and utilize black magic at the whim of another? I don't know. My intent would have been twofold. First, to see if my security systems could stand against the worst a witch can produce, which I think we can all agree is the magic done by a black witch. And second, a minor question of mine, curiosity, really. I wanted to know if a good witch could use black magic and not be...wicked."
The crowd buzzed, and I wasn't pleased. That little silver bell wasn't ringing. Had Trent taken advantage of the situation to find out if I was trustworthy? Son of a bastard...
"Is this to be a morality trial?" Oliver asked, and I swallowed hard. With the room out for my blood, there was no way I could win, and telling them of our beginnings would make things doubly worse. Damn, damn, and double damn.
"Perhaps," Trent said, his soft, melodic voice spilling out to fill the room with confidence. "What would have started out as an experiment in security has left me racked with guilt. This is my fault," he said, and people started to listen. "I was blind to how seriously the witch community would respond to black magic. If I'd known, I would certainly have chosen another method for testing my security."
Why in the hell wasn't that bell ringing? I asked myself, unless Trent was confident that his wording put everything into the theoretical. I couldn't have gotten away with it, but I wasn't a bloody politician.
"I feel remorse for having manipulated such an honest person into a bad place," Trent was saying, his words hitting me hard. "I want to make reparations. Rachel doesn't deserve imprisonment for the things she has done." He turned to the coven's table, holding Lucy's hand away from his face. "There was an arrangement, Oliver. It went too far. She should be pardoned, and you know it."
Vertigo was dancing about my brain, and I was glad I was sitting. Trent was referring to the deal we'd agreed to in the FIB interrogation room, and with sudden clarity, I realized I was lost. If Oliver called my bluff, I was lost. My gaze found Ivy and my mother, both dealing with the stress in their separate ways. I couldn't turn society upside down by telling them where witches had come from-and Oliver knew it.
Vivian invited Oliver to speak, and he laid a hand on his amulet as if covering his heart. "You offered her a job, if I remember correctly," the highest-ranking member of the coven stated. "Perhaps this is a ploy to get yourself a black witch on your payroll, Mr. Kalamack. A legalized black witch who you think is...good at heart."
The auditorium buzzed, and from the front row came Jenks's high-pitched "Go to hell, Oliver! Rachel isn't working for no scummy politician!"
Vivian gestured to the bell, sending a clear pinging out to silence the crowd. "If I may bring the conversation back to what we're here for?" she said when they quieted.
Oliver leaned over to look at her. "And just what is that, Vivian, if not holding witches accountable to our laws? Laws that have kept us safe for thousands of years?"
Trent was walking toward me, a faint smile on his face as he sat in the rickety folding chair beside mine. His expression was both confident and satisfied, and not any of it was from Lucy babbling in his arms. Something was up, and I probably wasn't going to like it. "You took advantage of this to find out if I was a good witch?" I said softly. "And you wonder why I don't like you?"
"See the course through," he said, careful to keep from touching his amulet. "There will be hell to pay, but I will see you back on this side of the lines before I'm done. Trust me."
Frustrated, I sat and crossed my arms over my chest.
Vivian had taken the floor, and slowly the crowd became quiet. "Rachel Morgan and Gordian Pierce knowing black magic is only part of the issue here," she said, head rising to take in the edges of the room. Her voice had taken on the cadence of a storyteller, and I fidgeted. "This is more than a trial of black witchcraft, but a question of how far we allow accepted morality to stretch to maintain the public safety. Two days ago, I was sent to watch Rachel on her journey here. Two days ago, I was certain that black magic, under any circumstances, was grounds for shunning."
Oliver leaned forward, eager for the kill. "And now...," he drawled.
She hesitated, took a breath, then let it out. "Oliver, we're in trouble," she said, her voice heavy with concern. It was as if she was speaking to him alone, and I felt a stab of alarm for what might come out of her mouth. "Rachel wasn't the reason the arch fell," she said, then, for all the good it did, held up a hand against the rising crowd.
"It fell because of salt-dissolving adhesive?" Oliver muttered, but his voice was completely overwhelmed by the crowd's noise. Beside me, Pierce grimaced, trying to look positive but coming across as ill. To my other side, Trent was stone faced. I couldn't tell if this was part of his plan or not. On his lap, Lucy was falling asleep, the bright lights and heat hitting her hard.
"Silence!" Vivian yelled without the aid of her amulet, and most of the crowd shut up. "Let me tell you what happened."
My foot quivered, and I looked down, then up into the faceless crowd.
"I traveled first behind Rachel, then with her," Vivian said, only to be interrupted by Oliver.
"And you expect us to believe that you are seeing things clearly?"
Vivian spun to him, her tie-dyed robe furling. "You know I'm not spelled, Oliver," she said tartly. "Disagreeing with you does not equal having one's judgment impaired, and if the rest of your bootlickers would grow a pair, we might have some justice here and maybe save our asses! We are in dire danger, and it's not from Rachel!"
The crowd became silent. Pierce leaned over to me, and with his pinkie just touching the amulet, he whispered, "I like her."
Someone laughed, and Vivian shot me an encouraging glance. "I stand before you in the sphere of the coven's truth charm, and I say that I traveled with Rachel, drove her car after she fought off a demon. A day-walking demon," she said loudly when the noise rose. "She didn't call it, it came of its own volition. I stand here now because she bested it. It was beyond me."
Not a sound came from the audience as they took that in. "A day-walking demon?" someone shouted. "That's impossible!"
Trent scuffed his feet to pull eyes to him. "They exist. A demon possessed one of my associates and was able to stay on this side of the ley lines, in the sun. It was Rachel who banished the demon and freed my friend. Day-walking demons are here. Your safety is severely compromised. The rules are evolving!"
He had to shout the last, and Vivian looked worried. I could well imagine the fervor going on past the doors, where this was being piped out. Vivian twitched her dress to gather the crowd's attention. "Unfortunately, Mr. Kalamack is correct. Demons are finding ways around the rules. Something has changed, and they can walk in daylight unsummoned. As we are now, we can't stand against them."
Oliver cleared his throat nervously. "Of course you couldn't stand against a demon, Vivian. You may be coven, but you were also alone."
"That's what I'm saying, Oliver," she said sarcastically, anger at her own lack of ability bleeding through. "I was alone, but so was Rachel, and she beat him back. My drawn circle fell as if it wasn't there. Rachel's didn't. It held firm. I'm not saying that black magic is stronger. But her magic has the strength of earth magic with the speed and flexibility of ley-line charms, and by continuing to ignore all of it because of the fear of some, we will condemn ourselves along with a good woman."
I was going to cry. Pierce took my hand, and I squeezed it. Even if I didn't make it out of here, someone had said I was a good person. It was worth the two thousand miles of bad food, dirty restrooms, and two nights without a bed just to hear someone say it.
"Vivian, stop inflaming the issue," Oliver stated when he could be heard again, and Vivian turned to the crowd, talking to them.
"I have seen my skills brushed aside as if nothing, and I am scared. Ignorance and denial will get us enslaved or dead. Don't let fear blind you. Don't let fear cause you to destroy someone who can stand against them. Rachel fought off a day-walking demon that was released when the arch fell, and you want to shun her?"
She was shouting, but most people were listening. "We all saw the news!" she said, gesturing. "We all felt the tragedy, saw the lives ended. I can't stop it! The coven can't stop it. She can!"
"I think she freed it!" Oliver shouted, standing to point a finger at me. "She was there!"
The crowd held its breath, and in the silence, I sat straighter. "I didn't release the demon from under the arch," I said, and there was no ping of the bell.
Oliver grimaced as his trap sprang with me safe outside it. The auditorium quieted beyond the haze of the lights, and Oliver's chair squeaked as he leaned back.
"What scares me," Vivian said, softer now that she had everyone's attention, "is that my circle, well drawn and able to handle anything, was nothing to him. This day-walking demon brushed through it. Rachel saved my life at great risk to herself-knowing that I had been sent to spy on her."
"With black magic," Oliver muttered.
"Are you that stupid, Oliver?" Vivian belted out, and I realized that most of my trial was going to be a fight for power between these two. The rest of the coven would vote with the winner. My life hinged upon a narrow-minded man and his fears.
"Of course she used black magic!" Vivian said. "Demons are laughing at us for our self-imposed ignorance. Rachel used black magic against a demon. It hurt none but herself and saved my life. I have a hard time finding wrong in that."
Vivian dropped back a step to let people think about it.
"What about Las Vegas?" Oliver stated, too confident in himself to get up. "Property damage and lives ended. The same demon, yes? The same black magic."
Vivian nodded. "Yes. It took both Pierce and Rachel that time, and the curse they used unfortunately set the building on fire. The bodies found therein were ended by the demon before they could banish it. I can truthfully say that Rachel and Pierce both used restraint in twisting curses. Rachel uses more restraint, actually," she said as she glanced at me. "And while the demon was not destroyed, it was successfully banished."
Oliver chuckled. "To do more mischief."
"Hey!" I blurted out, making Lucy jump in her sleep. "We were trying to survive!"
"And the demon just showed up?" Oliver asked, looking from me to the bell.
"The demon just showed up," I said clearly, daring the damn bell to ring.
"You are a menace," Oliver said loudly when it didn't. "I say we give you to this demon, and maybe it will go away."
My mouth dropped open, and from the higher seats, a few people clapped. Nearer, through the haze, I saw frightened expressions and heard a soft murmur rise. Give me to a demon? Was he serious?
Vivian strode dramatically across the stage, gathering eyes to her and taking them from me. "Do you even hear yourself?" she said, putting a hand on the table and leaning toward him.
Oliver drew back, but he was clearly unrepentant. "If she's a black witch, then giving her to a demon isn't a crime."
No, it would be a joke, I thought.
At the end of the coven table, Leon raised his hand for everyone's attention. "I'm not going to agree with any plan that gives a person to a demon," he said, shocking Oliver. Amanda and Wyatt nodded, looking less sure, but agreeing with him. Emboldened, the timid man took a firmer grip on his amulet. "I am willing to consider that legalizing black magic in certain individuals might be permissible," he said, and the crowd buzzed. "I'd like to explore this in greater detail, that perhaps a coven member might be allowed to become skilled in black magic if the ends are good."
Pierce exhaled, and I smiled at him. If his claim to the coven was accepted, then I'd have two strong votes for me. Trent, too, looked less stressed, and the soft clench of his jaw eased. Maybe this was how they planned on getting my shunning permanently revoked. Working for the coven to fight a demon was a hell of a lot better than living in the ever-after or being Trent's witch. I relaxed, seeing an end I could live with, even if it would cramp my style. Working for the coven. Ha! But at least I'd get paid for doing something I'd probably have to do anyway.
Seeing his victory dissolving in a wash of common sense, Oliver stood. "We should adjourn and discuss this in private."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," I said, grabbing my amplifying amulet, uncrossing my legs, and leaning forward past Trent to see Oliver better. "I was promised a trial before my peers." Along with my shunning being removed and an end to this, but first things first.
Pierce stood, tugging his vest straight and reaching for his amulet. "A private council is how I ended up in the ground," he said. "I won't accept going behind closed doors."
A hole in the ground, a cell with no windows. I could always call on Al, but if I did, there'd be no way I'd get my shunning removed. I fidgeted as the crowd buzzed and the witches at the table discussed the issue. Finally Wyatt rang the bell for silence. "I want to do this here," he said, and Oliver fell back in his chair with a dramatic expression of irritation. "I don't want to spend days on this. I have just one question." He looked at the other two witches, silent, but clearly as interested as he was. "Perhaps this is a morality trial after all."
Morality, I thought, starting to sweat. I could do this. I didn't know what to do with my hands, and I envied Trent, who was holding Lucy. He could suggest running me through with a flagpole, and as long as he was holding that baby, all they would say would be "Awwww."
Vivian looked questioningly at me, and after glancing at Pierce, I nodded. Seeing my acceptance, she inclined her head at the witch, and he reached for his amulet as he leaned forward. "I want to hear why they each risked shunning to learn black magic."
The crowd quieted, and I felt a wash of hope. Survival. I'd done it for survival. And I could say that without that stupid bell ringing. Who would blame me for that?
"Very well," Vivian said, a faint worry line on her brow giving me pause. "Rachel, why did you learn black magic?"
Pierce sat down and I stood, nervous as I took a step forward. "By necessity," I said, thinking of all the curses I'd used and the soul-searching that had come before them. "To stay alive, and to save the lives of those I love."
The audience was silent, waiting for the bell that never rang. Even as the truth came out, I was saddened. They had truly believed I'd done it because I was a power-hungry monster.
"Gordian Pierce?" Vivian said.
The chair creaked as he stood, and I watched him step a little past me. "I learned black magic to kill demons."
A wave of soft sound rose and fell from the people beyond the haze, and Oliver leaned forward, his little eyes glinting. "And have you...killed demons?" he asked. "With your black-arts skills?"
"I have had moderate success," he said, and from the corner of my sight, I watched Trent bow his head, holding Lucy close as if he were hurt. "I have tried," Pierce stated loudly as the crowd showed their disbelief.
"Just two days ago, I almost killed a demon."
Al, I thought, grimacing. Then I went cold, turning to look at Pierce in horror. Shit.
"But you failed," Oliver needled him. "Why should we allow you to rejoin the coven if you're not skilled enough?"
Shit, shit, shit! I thought as I silently begged Pierce to keep his mouth shut, but I couldn't move. If I moved, it would look worse.
"I would have succeeded," Pierce said hotly. "The hell spawn would be dead but for-"
Pierce stopped. His eyes wide, he looked at me in fear. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, knowing what was going to happen. "Rachel, I didn't think..."
I swallowed hard as his words went out to the hundreds assembled, waiting.
"But for what?" Oliver said. Standing, he gestured. "But for what, Gordian!"
Trent's head was bowed, and Vivian looked pained. She knew. She had heard us talk.
"I failed," Pierce stated. "It was my failing. I'm not good enough."
"Why?" Oliver's voice was demanding. "If you're not good enough, then this claim of learning black magic to save ourselves is a load of crap and you should be buried alive again!"
Pierce's eyes closed, his jaw clenched, refusing to speak.
My chest hurt, and I said the words for him. "Because I stopped him."
