Page 2 of Ruled By Magic

He turned back to the crowd and launched into an official-sounding spiel. “Under the eyes of almighty Zantus, we are here to announce the sentences of these perpetrators of acts against Dexia, whose guilt has been ascertained in the preceding trial. Attendees to the court shall witness that sentence is decreed by the Lord Commander and as such, the sentences are not eligible for appeal or mitigation. The word of the Lord Commander is, as ever,” —he glanced at me—“final.”

Final.

The word echoed in my brain. Nothing about this felt right. This ought to be an official process with set rules and regulations. Given my spotless record, I’d been told to expect eight to ten years. Same for Hex.

But the Lord Commander wouldn’t bother coming here for that, would he? He could do whatever he liked. He could sentence us to life, or hard labor in one of the settlements. Panic clawed at my insides. I tried to fight it down.

He gestured to the guards. “Bring me Hexara Smythe.”

Hex stood before the guard could touch her. She faced the Lord Commander and stared right at him. Her height and strong-muscled frame made her an imposing figure. Face set in a hard grimace, she looked the opposite of penitent.

He leaned forward. “So. A Guardian turned criminal. Tell me, Hexara, are you sorry for what you did? For the trouble you caused to upstanding members of ourGrand Assembly?”

I blinked, shocked. No missing the sarcasm there. He said “Grand Assembly” with about as much disgust as I always did. Why?

Hex kept her eyes on him and spat onto the polished floor.

Shit.

The burly guard darted forward and slapped Hex hard across the face. She rocked from the blow but didn’t go down, continuing her stare-off with the Lord Commander. He watched her for a few more seconds before he addressed the crowd.

“Unrepentant. A danger to our society. For her misuse of Guardian resources to aid in criminal activities, I sentence her to fifteen years imprisonment. Perhaps it will give her time to reflect on her actions.”

The Lord Commander’s lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk, and his eyes met mine.

That did it. Without conscious thought, I launched out of my seat. “This isn’t fair, that’s too—”

Blue energy slammed me back down with a jarring thump. Horror ricocheted through me as I took in the cords of glowing blue that now entwined me, securing me to my chair. I struggled, but the bonds were immovable, iron tough. They felt solid, but a disconcerting warmth emanated from them, playing across my skin. I fell limp and raised my head.

The Lord Commander watched me. “There’s no point fighting it.” His rich voice held a note of amusement. “Keep silent unless I ask you a question. Understood?”

Frustration simmered as I nodded. Powerless. Nothing I could do to help Hex. This charade was going to play out how he wanted it, regardless of justice.

Hex strode back to her seat at a gesture from the guard, her face a mask of fury. Bile rose in my throat. Just like that, he’d stolen fifteen years of her life.

“You’re next.” He gestured to the spot in front of him but made no move to set me free. The moment stretched out toward awkwardness.

“I’m stuck, remember?” Anger laced my voice, and the sharp edge of it echoed back to me in the silent room.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” The restraints vanished. I shifted my body. Warmth remained, a lingering impression from the magic.

I walked to the center of the dais. His dark gaze pinned me, and I battled the urge to fidget. He examined me from head to toe, an assessing look that stoked the nerves in my stomach. “On your knees.”

What?

He couldn’t mean it. Soft murmurs issued from the audience. He was an elected leader. Not some feudal lord from a history book, dispensing justice to cowering vassals.

“No.” A tremor of fear weakened my limbs, but the word came out strong.

“It wasn’t a request.”

My skin prickled, sensing danger. I should just do it. What did I gain from a refusal? But I couldn’t. My body locked up, brain unwilling to give it the signal it needed to sink down and see the satisfaction on his face—this man who considered himself so far above me.

He raised his hand. Blue energy enveloped me once more, bent my legs, and deposited me with a thump. Pain radiated where my kneecaps jarred on the hard floor. I closed my eyes and willed myself to patience. Ten more minutes and this would be over. I’d never have to see him again. Back under control, I looked up at the Lord Commander.

It was beyond humiliating. On my knees, while he stared down at me from his comfortable seat. It wasn’t fair. A useless, childish thought, but true. The mage who killed my mother never saw the inside of a courtroom. The priests taught that mages were holy Zantus’s chosen people, so they did whatever the fuck they wanted.

“Livet Spencer. From the outside, a perfect member of our society. A teacher at Stonebridge Academy. An adequate educational establishment.”

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