Page 32 of Dreaming of the Demon

“If you wanted an attorney present, you should have retained legal counsel, like Mr. Goremouth did,” the judge snapped.

“How could I?” I demanded. “The first I heard of this case was when the Harpy—er, Councilor Heketate—served me the papers which immediately caused me to vanish from Hidden Hollow and appear here, in this courtroom!”

I was afraid that Grand Wizard Henkelman would simply ignore my protests but he got a thoughtful look on his face.

“Very well—since you neglected to retain your own legal council, an attorney will be provided for you,” he said. “In fact, I know just the one! A Centaur who has one of the finest young legal minds in the entire magical world.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” I murmured, feeling the fist of tension that had gathered in the pit of my stomach unclenching just a bit.

But the next minute, I clenched up again, even harder. Because when the green door the judge had come from opened again, it was Chester the deaf Centaur I saw coming through. Was he really a lawyer? I guessed that he must be, but I was surehe’d been retired for ages. I had once heard another customer in the bakery saying he was over three hundred years old—magic users and Creatures tend to be long-lived. Even if he was a lawyer though, how could Henkelman describe him as “one of the finestyounglegal minds in the entire magical world?”

I guess maybe everyone seems young when you’re over five hundred years old yourself,I thought, remembering what Goody Albright had said about the advanced age of everyone who was on The Council of Wisdom.

“Hey, what’s all this—a trial?” the Centaur demanded, squinting up at the judge.

“Councilor Chester,” Grand Wizard Henkelman said importantly. “Welcome to my courtroom.”

“Eh?” Chester cocked his head to one side and looked confused.

“I said,WELCOME TO MY COURTROOM!”Henkelman bawled.

“Oh, yes.” Chester nodded vaguely. “A courtroom—so it is. I haven’t been in a courtroom in donkey’s years!”

“You have been called here to represent this young witch, who has stolen pears from this Ogre,” Henkelman told him.

“Eh? What now? She stole hairs from him?” Chester squinted at the Ogre across from us. “Looks hairy enough to me—she must not have stolen many!”

“No, no!”

The Grand Wizard looked irritated. He tapped his silver gavel on the podium once more but this time instead of producing a loudBOOM!it twisted in his hand and began to grow. A moment later it had become an old-fashioned ear trumpet with a wide silver bell on one end and a mouthpiece on the other to shout into. Henkelman tapped it again and it grew until it was long enough to reach from the top of the very talljudge’s bench all the way down to Chester’s ear. Then he shouted loudly,

“I said, you are here to represent this witch who stole the pears of this Ogre from the pear tree in his yard!”

“Stole them did she?” Chester frowned down at me. “Well what do you want me to do about it? Sounds to me like she’s guilty.”

“No, no, Chester!” I said desperately. “You’re supposed to be my attorney! You have to defend me!”

“Send you? Send you where?” he asked, frowning.

“No, not send—DEFEND,” I bawled at him. Unfortunately he was quite tall—all Centaurs are, due to being half horse—and I couldn’t get anywhere near his ear. He did seem to get the idea, however.

“Defend you? But the judge says you’re guilty of stealing! I don’t take guilty clients, Missy,” he said.

“But I’mNOT GUILTY!”I shouted desperately. “The pears I picked were on branches outside the Ogre’s land!”

“Got a lot of sand, does he?” Chester demanded. “Did you steal that too?”

This was hopeless! I was beginning to get horrible visions of being thrown in a magical jail to rot forever. Chester, who had always seemed nice, if a little vague, was turning out to be no help at all. In fact, I was pretty sure he was making things worse for me.

“Please, Your Honor, I need another attorney,” I said, turning to look up at Grand Wizard Henkelman. “This isn’t working out at all.”

The judge looked incensed.

“Absolutely not! I got you the finest legal mind in all of the magical world and you have the nerve to ask for a different counselor instead? Preposterous!”

“But he can’t hear me! He can’t understand!” I exclaimed. “And he might have been the finest legal mind before he retired but he’s three hundred years old now!”

“What is your point?” Henkelman snapped. “I will have you know, witch, that I amsix hundredyears old myself! Age does not dull one’s knowledge of the Law. In fact, it rather refines it—a good legal mind ages like fine wine!”

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