Page 85 of Dance of the Phoenix
I used long-distance jumps, restoring my balance when I landed on the rope by digging my toes into it before immediately jumping right afterward.
It took four jumps to get to the balcony.
Once I climbed over the balustrade, I could finally breathe. Cutting the rope and hanging the grappling hook over the iron hook of my belt, I knew I should really hurry up now. It wouldn’t take long for the scouts—or someone else—to find the rope.
Thankfully, the Malachi did not believe in windows, because all I needed to do to enter the second floor was step through the archway of the balcony. I took a very short moment to take in my surroundings: a large open space with translucent walls and glass-made musical instruments. No sign of stairs, or even an elevator.
The realization hit me too late, making me feel so dumb, it was almost as painful as forcing my left eye open. The Malachi didn’t need a stairway or an elevator. They could simply fly to the upper levels.
Great. Now what?
Heartbeat speeding now as anxiety spread through me at the sudden dead end I was facing, I quietly lurked around the floor, hiding behind a large grand piano, despite the floor being completely empty. There had to be a way up without using a pair of wings. Staircases were an inseparable part of architecture. What building wouldn’t have them?
A building of a species that didn’t need them, obviously.
Still, I couldn’t lose hope that I might be wrong. So I hovered around the entire floor, preparing to hide myself the moment I encountered any Malachi, but it seemed that no one was here. Even in the room I entered, which seemed to be residential, no one was around.
Was this floor deserted?
Either way, when I reached the other end of the floor, my wish was granted. A spiral staircase disappearing into the tall ceiling greeted me in an empty hall. Relief washed over me, and I ascended the stairs quietly and quickly, my feet extra soft against the crystal steps.
When I reached the third floor, another spiral staircase awaited, in a similar empty hall made of crystals. Perhaps this was one tall stairway to the upper floor? If so, I would be very lucky.
As long as the halls these staircases were built in stayed empty, that was, since I had no place to hide here.
But the more floors I climbed, the more sure I became that no Malachi used these halls, or staircases, leaving them completely abandoned. Which, of course, made me wonder why they built them, then.
I reached the final floor accessed by the spiral staircase. Seeing no more stairways, I walked toward the exit arch of the hall when I froze in place. Because through the archway I could see a row of Malachi wings, as the Malachi themselves sat with their backs to the archway, looking ahead at something.
Then I heard a distant male voice speaking in plain English.
“We will now begin the trial of Felleya, daughter of Murdoch.”
The Malachi’s Court of Justice was now in order.
Chapter 46
Eliza
In my forty-some years of living, I never thought I would visit Haramon, the Realm of the Malachi, in my lifetime. But even in my wildest dreams, I didn’t think I would actually witness a Malachitrial.
Yet here I was, in a large amphitheater made of pure crystals all around, on the tenth floor, placed under the clear blue sky, about to watch a sight an outsider like me should never behold.
Anyone who interfered in Malachi business, and this counted as one of the highest-level businesses the Malachi had to offer, had only one fate: death.
Which was why I was hiding at the very back of the amphitheater, behind a silky white curtain near the archway I’d entered through.
About a thousand Malachi sat in the audience, all wearing the traditional Malachi gear, meaning no shirts and different types of bottoms. Unlike other intelligent races, the Malachi embraced nudity, even seeing it as part of their right, because of their wings. So that female Malachi hung around topless, with their chests on display, mattered shit not.
The Malachi were far more progressive than either humans or vampires, that was for sure.
At the bottom of the amphitheater was a long desk, behind which sat twelve winged figures—six men and six women—who made up the Malachi’s Court of Justice. They were also the highest-ranking Malachi—the Seraphim. The ones who ruled over the rest of the Malachi.
And in front of them, on her knees, was a woman with her back to the audience, her ankles and wrists cuffed to the floor in chains. Her feathery wings, colored a deep crimson, hung loose on the ground, her long platinum hair gliding between them.
“Felleya, daughter of Murdoch,” said one of the Seraphim sitting at the desk, his voice echoing clearly in the open air, thanks to the absolute silence, “Seraph Cadriel has charged you with the following crimes.”
Another Seraph at the desk rose, holding a scroll as she read, “Unauthorized visit to Aderra, unauthorized association with multiple outlanders, unauthorized usage of aether, usage of aether against other Malachi, an attempted offense against a Malachi guard while awaiting trial, and sexual relations with an outlander.”
