Page 144 of Bull Moon Rising

We’re marched down the tower stairs and across the great, sweeping halls of the guild’s network of buildings. Everyone seems to be in their best livery, and the halls are crawling with people. It’s strange to see, though I don’t let my confusion show on my face. When another guildmaster rushes by with his sash heavy and clinking with pins, Mereden links her arm with mine and leans in, as if we’re two ladies on a jaunt instead of a prisoner and her co-conspirator. “The king is here.”

I lose my composure and jerk to stare at her. “What? He is?”

She nods, her expression serene. “Guild law apparently states that a dispute with holder nobility requires a royal decision.”

Gods. This is worse than I thought.

“Courage,” Mereden tells me, and gives my arm a squeeze. “I’ve sent a letter to my father stating that if we’re all kicked out of the guild, I will insist you go with me to the Convent of Divine Silence. No one will touch you on holy ground.”

I manage a weak smile. So I won’t die instantly. I’ll just die slowly at the convent. Lovely. But I appreciate that Mereden is trying to save me. I just don’t know what I’ll do without Hawk. At some point in all of this, he’s become more important than the guild. More important than anything.

And Magpie is his boss. Ugh.

We’re led into what looks like a courtroom, with several benches along the walls. Instead of the judge’s seat, there’s a large throne, and upon it sits a middle-aged blob in colorful clothing. I squint to see that the king is balding and has a sour expression on his face. Goody. He wears a thin circlet over his brow and his sleeves are encrusted with jewels, showing both fashion and wealth. His heavy necklace has three thick medallions upon it, and something tells me that if I could see more than blobs, they’d probably have Prellian runes on them.

I’ve only met the king once or twice in my life, but the look on his face doesn’t bode well.

Our Five are shuffled to a bench at the corner of the room, with guards on both sides. Lark and Mereden sit together on one side of me, with Gwenna and Kipp on my other side. I can’t help but notice that Lark’s and Mereden’s pinky fingers are locked together as they sit. I’m glad they’ve got each other.

I keep squinting as I glance around the room, looking for familiar faces. Across from us, Magpie sits on one bench wearing her guild regalia, and a bench ahead of her, Barnabus sits with his retainers, his clothing as colorful as the king’s. Today he’s got three feathers in his stupidhat. I squint on past him and look for a dark reddish face and horns. Hawk is near the door, close to another Taurian. The Taurians must be returning to the city, then.

“Are all present?” The king demands when the room settles.

Rooster steps forward, wearing his guild sashes and awards as well. For all his short, squatty height, his sash is so decorated that it trails on the ground after him, tinkling with metal. Perhaps he was once a very successful tunnel diver before he found a love of bureaucracy. He approaches the king’s throne and bows deeply, then nods. “All accused are present, Your Majesty.”

“Good.” He gazes around the room, and I could swear his attention locks onto me briefly before he pulls out a scroll he has in his lap. “I have read the charges against Lord Barnabus Chatworth of Chatworth Hold, Magpie of the Royal Artifactual Guild, and Lady Aspeth Honori of Honori Hold. I have conferred with my advisors and with the guild leaders and have come to a decision upon all three parties. Magpie of the Royal Artifactual Guild, please stand.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. A decision has already been made? But no one’s talked to me or asked me anything. Panicked, I clutch Gwenna’s hand, but hers feels sweaty and trembles in my grip. If no one spoke on my behalf, how can they possibly make a decision for me? How—

Magpie stands. “I am here, Your Majesty.”

“Do you abide by the king’s ruling?” Rooster focuses his gaze on her.

The question is a formality only. Everyone knows that you don’t cross the king. That’s the quickest way to make an enemy for the entire guild.

“Of course I do,” Magpie says, and I can’t tell if she’s sober or not. I do notice that no one is seated upon her bench with her in support, not even Hawk. I hope that’s a good sign.

“Magpie of the Royal Artifactual Guild, you have been accused of conspiracy to overthrow Honori Hold and of conspiring to withhold artifacts from the guild. I find you guilty on both charges.”

The king reads from his scroll in a bored voice, and I suck in a breath. She’s guilty.

“You will be stripped of your rank as guild master and all such benefits have been revoked. You will no longer be able to teach classes andreceive a tithe from students. Such monies will be diverted to the guild’s coffers. Furthermore, you have been stripped of guild status entirely. You will now be referred to by your given name, Mary Turner, and are ineligible to return to guild employment. Please surrender your sash and jacket.”

I squint hard, but I can’t see Magpie’s reaction. Being stripped of her guild honors isn’t unexpected, but it means that possibly someone believes my side of things. I clutch Mereden’s hand tightly, and Gwenna grips my other one.

Magpie moves forward and slaps her guild sash down onto Rooster’s hand. She shrugs off her jacket and pushes it into his grip, too, and then spits at his feet.

“That was a long time coming,” Rooster says in a bland voice. “You’ve been a piss-poor guild master for years now. You have until tonight to clear out your rooms in your nest.”

She scowls at him and says nothing.

“Dismissed,” the king says with a flick of his hand.

Magpie—Mary—gives a jerky nod and then slams out of the room, pushing past everyone in guild uniform.

“Lord Barnabus Chatworth,” the king says, “you are accused of conspiracy to overthrow Honori Hold.”

I don’t dare breathe as Barnabus gets to his feet. “It is a misunderstanding, Your Majesty,” he says in an unctuous voice. “Lady Aspeth is paranoid and seeking revenge after I spurned her.”

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