CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 24
The trial began outdoors in an open area, dug down beneath the level of the ground in ever shrinking circles.
“A theater,” Tharissa explained from beside Gayriel as they neared one of the four sets of stairs that led downward to the lowest levels. “But it is mostly used for sparring and everyone calls it the pit.”
The pit. The name suited Gayriel's blunt and defensive mood. She would face Kurath here; Tharissa had explained the very basics of Shifter justice.
Technically, Kurath had been banished years ago for some fault. Someday, she vowed, she would have Dynarys explain the history. But at one time, Kurath had belonged to the Amber Aerie pack. For that reason, and the fact that his insult was to the Amber Aerie pack Alpha, he was to be tried by the joint justice system of both races.
Dragon Lords filled the theater seats. Most were dressed in subdued colors and dress robes. Nothing so frivolous as was worn at the banquet, yet here and there a pop of color showed. Many had expressions of bored disinterest, but some leaned forward, eyes focused on the lowest level intently. There were Shifters present, too, segregated mostly, to one side. They might have been mingled with humans, she still struggled to tell the races apart.
An uncomfortable amount of attention turned her way as they peaked the steps. Gayriel held her breath.
There, on the theater floor, Kurath knelt, bound by long, thick irons that stretched tightly and held his position. The metal chains looked as though they might weigh as much as he did. Three guards stood above him, two Dragon Lords, wings at their full, and she assumed the third was a Shifter given his bulk.
Illaise was present, as well; her mixed and matched leathers stood out, as well as the fact she was very nearly the only woman present, besides Tharissa and herself. She stood stiffly to the side, a deep scowl on her features that did not lighten when her gaze landed on Gayriel.
Gayriel stepped down delicately, uncertain in the pale blue creation Tharissa had insisted on. Trial, to her, was not a place for silks and lace. Her hair was pulled severely back into a tight knot at her nape, giving room for the gauze veil that covered the shiny black locks.
The bodice was tight, so much so that it restricted her breathing slightly, and decorated with darker blue embroidery. Not practical, yet to appear otherwise was, apparently, unthinkable. A dragon's mate, nor the mate of the Shifter's Alpha could appear in less. Gayriel narrowed her eyes at Illaise. Somehow she got away with such blasphemy.
A length of white silk appeared before her, framed around a pale face with startling blue eyes that were swollen and red. She couldn't remember the woman's name, or if she had ever learned it, but she knew Pourtus's mother, and the woman did not look well.
You wouldn't look well either, learning the death your son suffered. Gayriel paused sagely. For a very long time, the woman stared at her, saying nothing, though her lips tightened into a thin line and tears rimmed her lower lashes.
Gayriel tried not to feel guilt, tried to remind herself that she was not responsible for Pourtus's choices. The image of him standing above her, blade red with her blood, came rushing to the front of her mind. He had intended to kill her, and no remorse had crossed his features then. Even so, in the face of the woman's devastation, Gayriel couldn't help but wish it had been different. Did Pourtus's mother blame her?
“Come, Amtine,” her mate urged, and there was no mistaking his look. Bitter hatred stood openly on his face, as he looked first to Gayriel, and then to Dynarys at her side.
The woman relented, though not even a hollow smile was aimed toward him. He gathered one of her shaking arms over his and led her away.
“I fear there are members of the aerie rallying for your banishment,” Tharissa frowned on Gayriel's right. “Jaithuk and Amtine lead them. They've tried to have Dynarys expelled before, to no avail, of course.”
“What?” Gayriel whispered. She guessed that answered her question about whether they blamed her or not.
“Hmm,” Tharissa whispered close to her ear. “They are huge advocates of pure bloodlines. According to them, the reason the Dragon Lords decrease with each generation is the association with the Shifters. Even having them in the aerie is too much for them. They badger the Archon constantly about it.”
“I've seen the result of such thinking, it isn't a good outcome,” Gayriel told her.
“I believe you. Morkuth and I have always supported Dynarys,” she nodded. “But it is something you should be aware of. Especially when you're down there.”
Her long arm stretched toward the remains of the stairs.
“Come,” Dynarys, un-hearing on the other side of her pulled her downward. Tharissa remained in the upper levels and Gayriel felt the loss of her support as though it was a physical thing.
“Are you nervous? I cannot tell any of your emotions any longer,” he eyed her.
“No....well, a little. I thought I was here as evidence. I didn't expect my presence would be protested.”
“You are here to give evidence. It cannot be helped that there are those who do not wish to hear the truth. Besides,” he squeezed her arm, “this trial is for Kurath. Given his previous behaviors, his part in this should surprise no one.”
They stepped down the final stair at the same time, and he raised his head, nodding respectfully to the Archon. The older man sat on an intimidating and high throne, watching the scene with no expression. He was flanked by two other men, Dragon Lords, given their position.
“My high Lord Archon, Gayriel Firestriker. Dragon's mate and witness to the prisoner's crimes.”
The Archon's amber eyes latched onto Gayriel and her nerves flared. Gayriel Firestriker. Dragon's mate.
“Lady Firestriker,” the Archon greeted. Dynarys chose that moment to step away from her, leaving her alone on the floor. Not alone, but feeling that way, and if the attention had not been on her before, it was now.
“Lady,” the man on the Archon's left nodded. “Please describe to us, as accurately as possible, the events that took place in the forest last night.”
Gayriel took a deep breath and began with the dragon's flight. Her details were accurate. She knew because that night would be forever etched in her mind, every moment.
When she finished, silence reined over the pit. She had wondered, when she started, if her words would even be heard among those on the floor, let alone the high levels. But the horrified looks confirmed that they were.
“A deal with the Quatori, Kurath?” the Archon snarled. “Are you stupid, as well as treacherous? What price are you willing to pay for your revenge? Not only your own life, but those of your people?”
“My people?” Kurath sneered. “How is it they are now my people? Were they my people when they chose that thing as their Alpha? He is not even a Shifter; all he is is the son of a whore and a rapist. A disgusting reminder of what no longer remains of my family’s honor.”
Kurath's voice rose as he spoke, until he reached a raging frenzy. Spittle flew from his mouth and he slammed against his chains.
“Have you ever considered that it is your own behavior that has driven their choice? Even now you cannot hold your people's well-being above your own pride,” the Archon questioned. “Regardless, it is clear that the charges of treason are true. Enemy to your people...enemy to this aerie. Illaise?”
Gayriel wasn't sure why, but somehow Illaise had a say in the ruling. She had not moved, nor did she give away any emotions, even when Kurath hurled the insult, leaving Gayriel to wonder what happened in her mind. She was his mother, after all.
Illaise stared at Kurath for a long, drawn out moment.
“Where are they?”
Gayriel blinked. Where were who?
Kurath said nothing, his jaw clenched in stubborn silence.
“Tell me,” Illaise growled, a vicious echoing sound. Gayriel flinched, but Kurath held strong. “Eight Shifters in a month, Kurath. Not one of them deserves to die. Tell me where they are and I take you under my pack's justice.”
What? Missing Shifters? And could she do that? Take Kurath? Gayriel wasn't sure she was comfortable with the idea of him loose outside the aerie, determined to get to her mate.
“Forget them, it is too late. If you continue to seek them, it will only lead to your life lost, as well,” he looked up at her. “It is too late.”
He must have sensed something within her. Or perhaps, as mother and child, they shared something like the link together. His face stiffened and the color drained from it.
“Mother?” he whispered. She cut him off with a wave of her hand. At last, she turned and stared straight at the Archon.
“Kill him.”
And with that, she left the floor, striding up one of the staircases and disappearing without a word.
Gayriel swallowed. Just like that. Her own son. She looked to Dynarys, but his face, too, was a mask of calm and collected emotions. He, however, did not exit. He stood firmly and watched as one of the men with the Archon lowered himself from the seats and stalked toward Kurath, blade drawn.
Kurath snarled, his face elongating to that of a wolf. But as the change spread down his arms, it seemed halted by the existence of the iron chains. Half man, half beast, he twisted viciously, but the constraints allowed him no quarter.
In a heartbeat, the task was over and the final blow struck.
It was nothing surprising for the audience, but suddenly the world seemed less bright and more grave, more serious to Gayriel; so quickly could a life be put out.
Lady?
The voice in her head nearly had her jumping from her skin. She had promised not to use the link, but at that juncture, surrounded by those she did not trust, she deemed it the safest choice. Scet had left her alone until that moment. After the initial bond, she had heard nothing from him, so little that she had almost forgotten the link even existed.
Yes? Gayriel answered.
I have found Grim...or some of him anyway, I do not think the Quatori accepted his bargain.
An image flashed to her and she was standing in a deeply shadowed patch of forest, different from that which the delegation had traveled through. The trees there were tall and spindly, with ragged reams of feathery green moss. They crowded so closely together that no branches existed on the lower trunk, for lack of light. This, she understood immediately, was where Scet hid himself. She was seeing through his eyes. She tried to tamp down how uncomfortable that made her and focused on what he felt was important to show her. He hadn't used the link until now and she assumed he was avoiding it as much as she was. This, therefore must be important.
In front of him several paces, the forest had been destroyed. Trees were snapped in two, their branches and chips of wood and bark littered the ground. A battlefield, for sure. A dark part of her felt a little satisfied that Grim hadn't melted into the woods and escaped all the chaos he had caused.
That part silenced when Scet moved forward and she saw the blood. So much blood. She thought the Quatori fed upon such things. The Shifter they had destroyed in front of her hadn't left a drop to mark his passing; much of his flesh had been stripped, too, but the Quatori had dropped the husk of a corpse when they were finished.
Here, blood spread everywhere. Far more than one man, even a Dragon Lord, should have produced.
Are you sure it is him? How can you even tell?
His scent.
Scet ventured farther into the broken opening, toward something that had caught his eye. She saw it, too, a glimmer where it should not have been. In front of her eyes, Scet's arm stretched and picked the thing up. A long chain, meant for around the neck, perhaps, and it supported a flat metal disk with a gem, and a symbol Gayriel did not recognize upon it.
She remembered the sound of something metal being thrown. From Kurath to Grim. An exchange for Kurath's revenge. It seemed that the vision she saw was truly Grim's end, and she had a deep suspicion that Kurath knew it would be. A traitor's end for a traitor. It seemed fitting.
I will leave you now, Lady. I hope that you find peace in this....Try not to hate me when the pain begins.
Wait, where will you go? She still didn't feel that it was fair to be banished for saving her life and there was something in his words, a pain of his own, a longing, a loneliness, that pulled at her.
She waited, but there was no answer.
She came back to herself to find Dynarys's face in hers, a look of concern, mixed with suspicion, in his gaze. “Are you alright? I should have warned you that justice here is immediate.”
Yes, he should have, but there were bigger things tampering with her equilibrium.
Gayriel blinked and took a deep breath.
“Scet contacted me,” she decided on honesty. She couldn't have stopped Scet from contacting her, but she did promise not to use the link. She hoped that Dynarys would understand, but the way that he flinched indicated his primal side was more in control.
Around them, others were looking, too, leaving Gayriel to wonder how long she had been standing there senseless.
“Can we go somewhere else? I will tell you everything.”