Death by Chocolate by Michelle L. Levigne Page B

is, I'm far too important to simply
allow me to sit in there, cooling my heels, until someone gets around to investigating my
innocence."
    "The term is 'determining innocence or guilt.' Which means that until that determination
is made, you could be guilty, so you cannot be allowed to roam freely in any of the realms
hospitable to Fae life. But because you could also be innocent, you are not incarcerated with total
deprivation of magical means to effect your comfort." Kevyn glanced at Epsi. "Do you want me
to handle his case?"
    "Not even if he was holding a knife at my throat, or blackmailing me with all the lies he
used to tell to get his way at family get-togethers, back when we were children." Epsi knew that
was far too long of an answer, but she had longed for decades to get a little back at Theodosius.
He'd had an incredible talent, as a boy, for getting to the adults first after some sort of fracas
among the children, and spilling so many half-truths and quarter-truths that it was impossible to
refute anything of his accusations.
    She had decided long ago that Theodosius's philosophy was that if he couldn't have fun,
nobody was allowed to have fun. And if he was going to get punished, everyone would get
punished. And inevitably, the adults did punish everyone, just because it would take too much
time and effort and magic to untangle the truth from Theodosius's twisted version of
unreality.
    "Epsi, dearest cousin, how can you say that to me?" Theodosius's eyes welled up with
tears, and his fat bottom lip quivered.
    "Ummm, because it's the truth? Because I despise you? Because if there was such a
thing as divorcing your relatives, I would? Hello, monitors? My advocate will not be
representing the former Administrator King. Could you--"
    "Whoa. Cosmic," Guber said, staring at the temporary black hole that collapsed in on
itself, where Theodosius used to be.
    "That's what I call service," Kevyn said. All the dark sternness and cold immediately
vanished from his expression. "Hello, monitors?"
    "How may we be of service to you, Advocate?" the disembodied voice responded.
    "You are recording all this, aren't you? What I'm telling my client will be of use to the
investigation. The Supreme Advocates and the Ministry of Investigation already have our report
and our theory of carob poisoning and the steps we're taking to find evidence. It would save time
if this was recorded and sent to everyone involved, so we don't have to repeat ourselves a couple
dozen times along the way."
    "Recording. Please be notified that several administrative levels have requested
immediate access to anything you clear for distribution to the investigation team. You might be
interrupted by questions, if anyone joins the conference in real-time."
    "That's fine with me. How about you, Epsi?"
    "Uh, sure. Let's get it over with." Epsi checked her clothes. They weren't her best, and
she hadn't anticipated being put on a couple dozen report globes, streaming to as many
dimensions, when she got dressed that morning.
    "You look great," Guber whispered.
    If she could have leaned across the table and kissed him and gotten away with it, Epsi
would have. Guber might be a total Human-phile geek, but he was alert and sensitive enough to
know when a girl was feeling entirely too self-conscious, and to know exactly what to say to
make her feel better.
    Could she hope that maybe he was expressing his opinion, too? Or was that asking for
too much, considering her circumstances?
    She sat back and listened as Kevyn paced around the table, speaking to the invisible
audience. He gave a barebones history of the case, the implications linking to her, how he had
become involved in the case, and what Will and Phill had told him about her reaction to carob,
and how that whole theory came into being. Then he turned the education portion of the
testimony over to Guber, who explained his device and the tests. He described the carob or
carob-mixed-with-chocolate samples that had been