Page 63 of Court of Shadows
The shepherd’s voice boomed out over the crowd and everyone fell silent. I took the moment of distraction to break away from Mr. Morningside. He had already begun to walk toward the dais anyway. Dodging toward the long, empty trestle tablewith the black pennant, I stuffed the book in the flour sack under the table and then just as swiftly fell into step behind Mr. Morningside. We reached the empty space before the stage and I heard the tent flaps rustle. I glanced over my shoulder and gasped.
It was not Father, as I’d expected, but Chijioke. He ducked into the pavilion and searched the crowd with his glowing red eyes. I tried to turn away, but he had spotted me and began weaving his way toward us, pushing people out of the way when they did not move fast enough for his taste.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, slapping his arm lightly. “Get out of here. Now.”
“Ha. Lass, the moment Lee told me we were to stay shut up in the house I knew you were going to do something stupid. The only thing I want to know is, just how stupid are we talking here?”
I shook my head subtly, for the shepherd was talking directly about the translations and eyes were beginning to seek me out in the crowd.
“Leave, Chijioke, I’m begging you. Nothing good will come of this trial. I’m trying to protect you.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he whispered.
“I am in every kind of trouble.” I took him hard by the shoulder and inched away from Mr. Morningside. “They’re calling me forward. Look at me. No! Look at me. Chijioke, when the commotion starts you need to get out of here.”
“Louisa Ditton, come forward.”
The shepherd’s dog had summoned me, and I gave Chijioke’s shoulder one last squeeze before ripping myself away. He tried to grab my hand but I was gone, pushing through the thin barrier of people between me and the empty floor, going and taking my place, for good or bad, next to Mr. Morningside.
I felt a chill ripple across the air and knew without looking that Father had come. His eyes were on me. I clasped my hands together to keep them from visibly shaking.
“I have reviewed these journals,” the shepherd began. He looked as weary as I did, but his eyes were alert, bouncing back and forth between me and Mr. Morningside. “They are most interesting. They are also incomplete.”
“Where is the book, you snake?” It was Sparrow, obvious from the venom in her voice. She prowled to the edge of the stage, pointing at us. “Your precious Changeling pet weaseled her way out of telling me the truth of it, but that will not happen again.”
“Save your accusations for me, Sparrow; this girl has done nothing but comply with my requests—requests that serve us all,” Mr. Morningside said calmly, almost cheerfully, in fact. He plucked another sheaf of papers from inside his coat and strode to the dais, handing them up to Sparrow. She snatched them out of his hand with a grunt, taking a glance before passing them to the shepherd.
“That’s the good bit,” he said with a chuckle, rocking backonto his heels. The crowd murmured with interest, and I could feel them surging closer to our backs. “We now have the location of the third book, and once it is recovered, another Court can be convened to decide what must be done with it.”
“A pyre is its rightful fate,” Sparrow muttered. There were sounds of both agreement and dissent in the crowd. “Perhaps the Black Elbion should go on it, too, Beast.”
That drew cries of agitation from the audience. The shepherd was reading the documents and quickly, flipping through page after page after page, his eyes jumping up and down. His expression grew gradually more somber, until he reached the end, and melancholy turned to anger.
“What is this?” He drew his eyes up slowly from the page, settling them not on Mr. Morningside but on me. “Girl, you swear that this is what you read in the journals? Do not lie to me.”
I swallowed hard and drew back my shoulders, staring directly into the face of a god and lying. I had gotten good at it, apparently, after all that practice with Father. It didn’t feel good to lie, not when I was growing more and more worried that Mr. Morningside would break our bargain. “I swear it’s the truth.”
“It is,” Mr. Morningside said at once.
The shepherd gradually shifted his unseeing gaze to Mr. Morningside, squinting. “The resting place of the third book, the secret location we have agonized over for centuries, is Stoke-on-Trent? Is that really true?”
“Absurd!” Sparrow shouted. The flames of her body leapt, erupting higher as she stalked over to the throne, trying to read over the shepherd’s shoulder. “This is a diversion! A trick! Morningside knows the real location but wants it only for himself.” She dropped down to her knees suddenly and clasped her hands around the shepherd’s knee. “Let me invoke the Right of Judgment. Please, let me do it. You know it is right.”
He drew in a long, slow breath. Beside me, Mr. Morningside fidgeted, but I suspected it was just a show. Still, when I happened to look at him, I did notice a sheen of perspiration on his many changing faces. Was he truly nervous? Did he doubt that our plan would work?
While the shepherd deliberated and the crowd grew more and more agitated, I risked a glance over my shoulder. Father was outside waiting somewhere. Just knowing he was close made me tingle with fear.
“Very well.” The shepherd stood, and as he spoke, I could see tears of regret sparkling at the corners of his eyes. “Step forward, sir; the Right of Judgment has been invoked. You will give us the truth, and no lie will go unpunished.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Isaw his knees tremble as he took his position, kneeling in front of the stage with Sparrow’s shining golden form poised above him.
There was no way of knowing what was under the shifting glitter of her face, but I knew in my heart that she was smiling. For my part, I could do nothing but squeeze the life out of my hands as I waited for it all to be over. The pavilion had become deathly silent, with only the faint pulsing of the portal behind the stage providing any sound at all. Even the crickets and frogs outside had gone quiet, as if the whole world sensed the grave significance of this moment.
Mr. Morningside chuckled as Sparrow, with great dignity and solemnity, took him by the chin, tilting his head upward.
“Give us a kiss, darling,” he purred.
