Chapter 37 Chapter 36
The trials in the Shadow Realm were nothing like I expected.
Instead of a private Court proceeding, Azrael had opened them to the public. Thousands of demons filled an amphitheater carved from black stone, watching as the loyalist prisoners were brought forward in chains.
"He's making a statement," Kael said beside me. We stood in a protected viewing area, close enough to see everything but separated from the crowd. "Public accountability. Transparency. Everything his father never did."
"It's risky," I said. "If the crowd turns against him—"
"Then we intervene," Kael finished. "But I don't think they will. Look at their faces."
I did. The demons watching weren't bloodthirsty or angry. They were somber. Grieving. Many had lost friends or family in the attack. They wanted justice, not spectacle.
Azrael sat on a throne that looked far less ostentatious than his father's had been. Beside him sat three other demons, the tribunal he'd established to judge the prisoners fairly.
"Bring forward the first accused," Azrael commanded.
A demon was led to the center of the amphitheater. He looked defiant, unrepentant.
"You stand accused of attacking civilians during a peace festival," one of the tribunal members said. "Of killing three demons and wounding seven more. How do you plead?"
"Guilty and proud," the demon said. "I serve the true demon way. Strength and conquest, not weakness and compromise. Malakai was right. You've made us soft."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Not agreement, I realized, but shock at the open defiance.
"You killed your own people," Azrael said, his voice carrying across the amphitheater. "Children. Elderly. Civilians who were celebrating. What strength is there in that?"
"They were weak for celebrating with you," the demon spat. "For accepting your alliance with inferiors. They deserved death."
"And you deserve mercy?" Azrael asked.
"I deserve nothing from a false king," the demon said.
Azrael stood, power radiating from him. "You're right. You deserve nothing. But I'm giving you something anyway. A choice. Renounce your actions. Acknowledge the harm you've caused. Spend the rest of your life working to repair what you've broken. Or face execution for crimes against the realm."
The crowd fell silent. This was the moment that mattered. Would Azrael offer mercy or demand blood?
"I renounce nothing," the demon said. "Execute me. Make me a martyr for the true way."
"No," Azrael said. "I won't give you that satisfaction. You want to be a symbol of resistance. Instead, you'll be forgotten. You'll spend eternity in imprisonment, alone with your choices, your name erased from history."
He gestured, and guards led the demon away. The amphitheater erupted in discussion. Some demons looked satisfied. Others looked disappointed. But no one could say Azrael was being either too harsh or too lenient.
The trials continued. Of the twenty-three prisoners, most chose imprisonment over execution. A few, the ones who'd personally killed civilians, were sentenced to death despite Azrael offering alternatives. Three chose to renounce their actions and accepted rehabilitation.
By the time the last sentence was delivered, hours had passed. I was emotionally drained just from watching. I couldn't imagine how Azrael felt.
"It's done," he said when he finally joined us. He looked exhausted but relieved. "Justice served. Publicly. Fairly."
"You did well," I said. "Showed strength and mercy both."
"I showed pragmatism," he corrected. "Executing all of them would have made martyrs. Freeing them would have made me look weak. This way, the realm sees that actions have consequences, but mercy is possible."
"Some demons will still see it as weakness," Kael pointed out.
"Some demons will never accept anything I do," Azrael said. "But most will see it as fair. That's what matters."
We were interrupted by a commotion near the amphitheater entrance. A demon in formal robes was arguing with guards, demanding to speak with the king.
"That's Ambassador Thex," Azrael said, frowning. "From the Eastern Reaches. What's he doing here?"
Thex broke through the guards and approached us, bowing quickly to Azrael. "My King, urgent news from the border territories. We've detected unusual magical activity. Rifts opening and closing in patterns that don't match natural fluctuations."
"Loyalist activity?" Azrael asked.
"We thought so at first. But the signature is different. Older. More powerful." Thex hesitated. "My King, we think someone is testing the Veil. Trying to find weaknesses."
My blood ran cold. "The Veil is permanent. I repaired it. The ritual was successful."
"Permanent doesn't mean impenetrable," Thex said. "If someone with enough power and knowledge attacked the right points, they could create temporary breaches. Small ones, but enough to cause problems."
"Who would even attempt that?" Kael asked. "The demons wanted the Veil down. The vampires want it up. The witches created it. Who benefits from trying to breach it now?"
"Someone who wants chaos," I said slowly. "Someone who benefits from the alliance falling apart. If the Veil shows signs of failing, all three species will panic. Blame each other. Everything we've built will collapse."
"Corvax," Azrael said grimly. "He's been too quiet since the festival attack. I thought he was regrouping. But he's been planning something worse."
"We need to investigate," I said. "Find out exactly what's happening at these border territories."
"Agreed." Azrael turned to Thex. "Assemble a team. Best scouts, strongest warriors. We leave immediately."
"Wait," Kael said. "This could be another trap. Lure you away from the fortress, attack while you're vulnerable."
"Then we prepare for that too," Azrael said. "But we can't ignore threats to the Veil. If it's actually failing—"
"It's not failing," I interrupted. "I would feel it. The ritual created a permanent bond between me and the Veil. If something was truly wrong, I'd know."
"Then someone wants us to think it's failing," Kael said. "Which means this is psychological warfare. Making us doubt. Making us afraid."
"Or it's real and you're overconfident," Azrael countered. "Either way, we need to know."
They were both right, which made the decision impossible. Investigate and risk walking into a trap. Ignore it and risk the Veil actually failing while we did nothing.
"I'm going," I said. "To the border territories. I'll be able to sense if the Veil is actually compromised or if this is a deception."
"Absolutely not," both Kael and Azrael said simultaneously.
"It's the only way to know for sure," I insisted. "And before you say I'll be in danger, remember that I'm in danger everywhere. At least this way, we get useful information."
"She has a point," Thex said hesitantly. "The Shadow Witch would be able to detect Veil instabilities better than any of us."
"Don't help," Azrael told him.
Through the bond, I felt Kael's internal struggle. He knew I was right. He hated that I was right.
"We all go," he said finally. "Full security detail. Prepared for ambush. And at the first sign of serious danger, we retreat. Agreed?"
"Agreed," I said, though we all knew I'd probably ignore that last part if necessary.
"You're going to give me gray hair," Azrael muttered.
"You're immortal," I pointed out.
"Exactly. Imagine having gray hair for eternity because you gave me constant heart attacks."
Despite the tension, I almost smiled. We gathered a team of twenty demons, five vampires that Kael trusted, and three witches from the coven who volunteered. Mixed species working together, exactly what the alliance was supposed to look like.
We left within the hour, traveling through the Shadow Realm toward the border territories. The landscape grew stranger the further we went, reality itself seeming thin and fragile.
"This is wrong," I said as we approached the reported location. "I can feel it. Something is very wrong here."
The air shimmered ahead of us, and through it I could see Earth. Not through a rift or portal, but like looking through a window. The Veil wasn't torn, but it was transparent. Thin enough to see through.
"That's not possible," I whispered. "The Veil should be opaque. Solid. This looks like it's fading."
"Can you repair it?" Azrael asked.
I reached out with my magic, trying to strengthen the weakened section. My shadows responded, wrapping around the thin area, trying to reinforce it.
The Veil rippled under my touch, then began to tear.
"No," I gasped, pulling my power back. "I'm making it worse. My shadows are reacting badly with whatever's causing this."
"Then we need to find what's causing it," Kael said. "And stop it at the source."
That's when I felt it. A familiar magical signature. Not demon. Not vampire. Not witch.
Shadow Witch magic. Old. Corrupted. Wrong.
"There's another Shadow Witch," I said, horror flooding through me. "Someone else is alive. And they're trying to destroy the Veil."
The implications hit all of us at once. I wasn't the last Shadow Witch. Someone else had survived. And they were using shadow magic against everything I'd built.