exist with regard to the other charges and I would have that entered into evidence.”
“Frederick Reynolds used compulsion to cheat in our casino, a clear violation of the treaty that allows the Arcana Royale to host even the most deadly enemies in an atmosphere of absolute neutrality.”
“I understand the gravity of the charge.” Less than a century ago, such a charge would have resulted in immediate execution by the host city’s prince. Frederick’s actions were inexcusable. But he was still Ruth and Matthias’s son, he was Malcolm’s cousin. He couldn’t not help him.
“And you believe you can defend him?” The Ice Queen spoke. No matter what the other four beings were, this one had to be a witch. Only the words of witches could walk across the grave of his soul and leave icy imprints in their wake.
He chose his words carefully. “I believe the opportunity to do so should be allowed.”
The five figures went silent, though they all turned as one to the second figure at the table, one of the only two that had said nothing.
“We shall consider the petition for defense. Until our decision is rendered, Frederick Reynolds remains in the custody of the Arcana Royale.” The Ice Queen concluded the audience, and all five figures vanished behind a wall that shimmered into being.
Malcolm inclined his head, certain they could see his actions even if he could not see them and pivoted on a heel to walk back to the elevator. It stood open, waiting for him. He glanced back up the empty hallway as the doors closed, unsurprised when it too disappeared into absolute blackness.
The concession wasn’t much, but it was a start.
“I don’t understand why you won’t just offer to pay them.” It had been less than twenty-four hours since their last discussion and Frederick’s demeanor grew more agitated, his skin pale and even his cheekbones seemed more hollow. He paced the room, sharp, hard twists back and forth across the six-by-six interrogation suite.
“Paying the two million is an automatic admission of culpability. Regardless of how this turns out, we’re going to be on the hook for the money.” He measured every word with patience. The hard edge to the negotiations did little to alleviate the ache in his body or the intense desire to look at the time. He would rather be in the Midnight Mystery Lounge.
Scratch that. He would rather be ravishing Jeannie in his suite.
“So pay it now and maybe they’ll release me.”
“Because assuming the easy path has worked so well for you this far?” His forbearance stretched thin. “Sit down, Frederick.”
“I don’t want to sit down.” Frederick whirled, his hands spreading wildly and his dark hair pulling loose from the thin tie at the nape of his neck. “I want to get the hell out of here.”
“Sit. Down.” Malcolm punctuated the last word with his hand striking the table. His cousin backed up a pace and then fell almost boneless into the chair. His blue eyes were too wide, the pupils having nearly engulfed the color of his irises.
“Malcolm, you have to help me…please.”
“What are you on?” Disgust curdled with disappointment soured in his stomach.
“It’s not like that.”
“Your hands are shaking. Your eyes are dilated. You’re pale and you’re out of control. What are you taking?” Malcolm studied his cousin, seeing the signs and symptoms. If he were completely honest with himself, they’d likely been there all along, but he’d ignored them. He’d made excuses for them. He’d let it slide.
“Nothing.”
“Very well. I wish you the best of luck with the Overseers.” Malcolm stood, sliding the chair back with care and flipping closed the legal pad he’d intended to take notes on.
“What are you doing?” Frederick cast a stricken glance at him, rising to his own feet, hands flat against the table.
“I’m leaving. You want to lie, you can do it on your own. I will not put my honor on the line when you can’t be
“Frederick Reynolds used compulsion to cheat in our casino, a clear violation of the treaty that allows the Arcana Royale to host even the most deadly enemies in an atmosphere of absolute neutrality.”
“I understand the gravity of the charge.” Less than a century ago, such a charge would have resulted in immediate execution by the host city’s prince. Frederick’s actions were inexcusable. But he was still Ruth and Matthias’s son, he was Malcolm’s cousin. He couldn’t not help him.
“And you believe you can defend him?” The Ice Queen spoke. No matter what the other four beings were, this one had to be a witch. Only the words of witches could walk across the grave of his soul and leave icy imprints in their wake.
He chose his words carefully. “I believe the opportunity to do so should be allowed.”
The five figures went silent, though they all turned as one to the second figure at the table, one of the only two that had said nothing.
“We shall consider the petition for defense. Until our decision is rendered, Frederick Reynolds remains in the custody of the Arcana Royale.” The Ice Queen concluded the audience, and all five figures vanished behind a wall that shimmered into being.
Malcolm inclined his head, certain they could see his actions even if he could not see them and pivoted on a heel to walk back to the elevator. It stood open, waiting for him. He glanced back up the empty hallway as the doors closed, unsurprised when it too disappeared into absolute blackness.
The concession wasn’t much, but it was a start.
“I don’t understand why you won’t just offer to pay them.” It had been less than twenty-four hours since their last discussion and Frederick’s demeanor grew more agitated, his skin pale and even his cheekbones seemed more hollow. He paced the room, sharp, hard twists back and forth across the six-by-six interrogation suite.
“Paying the two million is an automatic admission of culpability. Regardless of how this turns out, we’re going to be on the hook for the money.” He measured every word with patience. The hard edge to the negotiations did little to alleviate the ache in his body or the intense desire to look at the time. He would rather be in the Midnight Mystery Lounge.
Scratch that. He would rather be ravishing Jeannie in his suite.
“So pay it now and maybe they’ll release me.”
“Because assuming the easy path has worked so well for you this far?” His forbearance stretched thin. “Sit down, Frederick.”
“I don’t want to sit down.” Frederick whirled, his hands spreading wildly and his dark hair pulling loose from the thin tie at the nape of his neck. “I want to get the hell out of here.”
“Sit. Down.” Malcolm punctuated the last word with his hand striking the table. His cousin backed up a pace and then fell almost boneless into the chair. His blue eyes were too wide, the pupils having nearly engulfed the color of his irises.
“Malcolm, you have to help me…please.”
“What are you on?” Disgust curdled with disappointment soured in his stomach.
“It’s not like that.”
“Your hands are shaking. Your eyes are dilated. You’re pale and you’re out of control. What are you taking?” Malcolm studied his cousin, seeing the signs and symptoms. If he were completely honest with himself, they’d likely been there all along, but he’d ignored them. He’d made excuses for them. He’d let it slide.
“Nothing.”
“Very well. I wish you the best of luck with the Overseers.” Malcolm stood, sliding the chair back with care and flipping closed the legal pad he’d intended to take notes on.
“What are you doing?” Frederick cast a stricken glance at him, rising to his own feet, hands flat against the table.
“I’m leaving. You want to lie, you can do it on your own. I will not put my honor on the line when you can’t be
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