Chapter 34 #2
When she and the other seers had whispered to one another in the cubicle farm about their recent prophecies, they’d managed to nail down the parade’s location and other crucial details of the insurrectionists’ scheme.
Once Gwen told Hugh everything, he and other SERC authorities should be able to avert disaster without any real problem.
He directed his attention back to Josiah. “Do you have any other warmongering schemes in progress? Any other plans to provoke interspecies bloodshed?”
Death raised his beautifully arched brows at Josiah’s stubborn silence. “Tell him.”
“Our…” Josiah’s entire body shuddered, but there was no stopping the response. “Our faction of fae does not.”
Death turned to Hugh. “Is that all, Councilor?”
As soon as Hugh nodded and sat, Death retook the reins of the interrogation. “In that case, former Councilor Goodling, your afterlife sentence is hereby—”
“Um…” Very much against her better judgment, Gwen weakly waved a hand. “Hi. Before you do that…”
Eloise and Hugh gaped at her in matching disbelief and disapproval. Death slumped in his seat, eyes closed, while another reusable Starbucks mug appeared in front of him.
“Could…” Gwen swallowed hard and forced herself to continue. “Could you please have Josiah share the identities of his other fae conspirators? I’m sure Hugh didn’t want to bother you, but that information will make his investigation much easier.”
Death’s half-bared chest rose and fell on another deep sigh.
“I suppose,” he eventually said, then waved a hand at Josiah. “Do it.”
After shooting Gwen one last look of mingled gratitude and censure, Hugh produced his miraculously intact phone from his pocket and took notes on it while Goodling listed all known associates in the fae splinter group.
Once he was finally done, Death tiredly straightened. “And now, former—”
“Yeah. Uh, I’m so sorry, but…” Gwen cringed, half expecting to be executed on the spot. “We need the identities of all the non-fae under Josiah’s control too. Any humans or Supernaturals he bound to his service via bargains”—like Hugh’s mom—“and so forth.”
Despite his clear concern for her continued survival, Hugh seconded her interruption. “I’ll have to interview them in case they have further information. Also so I can evaluate whether their actions merit criminal charges.”
“For the love of…” Death propped his elbows on the table before him and rubbed his eyes. “Fine. List them, Goodling.”
That took another few minutes, during which Death stared into space and clearly disassociated. Once Josiah finished, though, Death refocused his attention on the courtroom. “Okay. Now that we’ve—”
“What about his common human coconspirators?” Eloise had produced a plastic-wrapped strawberry candy from her pocket, and her words were garbled as she sucked on it. “Hugh probably needs to know about them too.”
Oh, good. Gwen wouldn’t be forced to interrupt the proceedings a third time.
Death groaned loudly, but his impatient wave directed Josiah to answer.
“I never met the humans directly or discovered their real names.” Unwillingly, he added, “I know most are wealthy. Several hold significant power in the military and civil government.”
“All right.” Death ran a weary hand over his glossy, perfect dark hair. “At long last, is that everything you three need to know?”
Hugh, Gwen, and Eloise nodded.
“Then I am ready, once more, to cast judgment.” Death raised his brows and waited. When no further interruption came, he straightened in his chair. “Former Councilor Goodling, your afterlife sentence is hereby—”
“I didn’t have a lawyer!” Josiah shouted.
Eloise rolled her eyes at Josiah. “You are a lawyer, dipshit.”
“Former Councilor Goodling,” Death began again, “your afterlife sentence is hereby set, in congruence with your actions while living. In explanation, we note the following three justifications: First, your actions to this point have led to the untimely deaths of many Containment Zone inhabitants and several oracles. Those deaths not only constitute a tragedy in themselves but have also burdened our already-overloaded post-death administrative system.”
He paused. “As an aside, I feel compelled to note that you voted against increased funding for our digitization efforts even as you were conspiring to add to our workload.”
Based on the animosity in Death’s stare, that vote had really pissed him off.
“Second, your splinter group’s plans would have led to countless more deaths and put the Realm Below even further behind schedule,” Death continued.
“Third, as previously noted, you trespassed deliberately into forbidden territory without either good reason or any evidence of remorse. That alone would be enough to justify the afterlife assignment you’ve been given. ”
Sipping his coffee, Death turned to each Fate, one by one, and conducted more unspoken conversations.
The rest of them waited.
Then they waited some more.
“For fuck’s sake.” At long last, Josiah couldn’t contain himself. “What is it? What’s my damn sentence?”
Death merely yawned, not even bothering to cover his mouth.
“You’ll find out soon enough, dearie.” The bespectacled Fate gazed at him with a faint, malicious smile. “For everyone else, it’s redacted.”
The fae managed a single syllable of protest before his voice failed once more. And after another minute of conferencing with the Fates, Death rendered their remaining judgments.
“Your trespass is forgiven, oracle Wexloff, because you had no choice in the matter. As are your actions, guardian demon Blacke and Councilor Blacke, because your intentions were honorable and your hearts true.” His delicately arched nostrils flared with his long exhalation.
“Which, frankly, is very unusual for demons of your wealthy upbringing.”
“Thank you very—wait. That reminds me.” Eloise turned to her brother. “Hugh, what do you plan to do about our parents?”
Death squeezed his eyes shut and visibly grappled for patience.
Hugh tipped his head meaningfully toward the Realm Below’s ruler and the impassive-looking Fates. “El, I don’t think now is—”
“Just answer the question.” An enormous pile of whipped cream appeared atop Death’s mug of coffee, and he eyed it resignedly before taking another sip.
“It’s not as if my beachside mojito slushy hasn’t already melted.
But make it snappy, so I don’t miss my spa reservation too.
If I do, you won’t like the consequences. Trust me on that.”
Hugh winced and obeyed. “Josiah’s death might have freed our mother from her bargain, but it won’t free her from the legal consequences of her actions. Or the personal consequences, for that matter. I don’t intend to inflict her presence on either Gwen or myself from this point onward.”
Eloise’s eyebrows rose. “You’re going to cut off all contact?”
“With her, yes. Permanently. With our father?” Hugh paused. “Maybe.”
Gwen’s shoulders slumped in mute relief as the horrifying prospect of Hugh sharing family dinners and holidays with her freaking abductor receded into oblivion.
He shot a quick glance her way. Then he discreetly laced their fingers together beneath the table, where no one could see, giving her hand a warm, comforting squeeze.
Before Eloise could ask the follow-up questions clearly teeming on her tongue, Death sliced his own hand through the air.
“All right. Enough chitchat. I have a passion fruit body scrub and a very stern, very German massage therapist named Marta waiting for me.” Once Eloise reluctantly closed her mouth and subsided into her chair, Death directed his attention back toward Hugh.
“I assume you’ll take care of the remaining conspirators and their plots-in-progress, Councilor?
Because if our courtroom gets overrun by more murder victims in the near future, I may reverse our previous dismissal of your offenses. ”
“Arresting the remaining insurrectionists and quashing their plots would be my pleasure.” Hugh’s forehead creased. “I am concerned about whether Gwen and the other oracles will remain in particular danger, even without Josiah at the alliance’s helm.”
The judge raised a single, inquiring brow at Goodling.
“Without the fae, our common human allies couldn’t competently wipe their own asses,” Josiah scoffed. “Which is why we fae are the rightful rulers of—”
“That’s the best answer you’re going to get, Councilor Blacke,” Death said. “You’ll find a signed and notarized transcript of this trial waiting for you at your office. Court dismissed.”
He shoved back his chair and got to his feet, stretching. “Oh, and get back to work, guardian demon Blacke. From what I hear, your charge is eyeing a cottonmouth with an alarming degree of enthusiasm.”
And then, in the space of an eyeblink, all four judges and Josiah disappeared.