Her eyes were weary, fearful, and resigned over the gag that trapped the entire lower half of her face. It was a contraption of metal and scripted leather, and it suppressed almost as much power as the halfsilver cuffs that encircled her wrists.
An older man, built like a noble bear, was bent and bound next to her. Unlike her, he bore obvious wounds, with blood trickling from his salt-and-pepper hair to stain his short beard.
King Seishen Dakata breathed heavily through his nose, obviously trying to keep up a breathing technique, but Lindon had seen the Akura Overlords carrying him in.
They had not been gentle.
In the worst shape by far was Dakata’s remaining son, Seishen Daji. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his clothes were torn and looked to be somewhat burned, and instead of handcuffs, both his arms were wrapped in halfsilver chains. That had to be spiritual agony.
He wore no complex scripted muzzle, but had a dirty rag stuffed in his mouth to gag him. While he trembled in fear and pain, Lindon would call his expression sullen, even defiant.
Whatever fate the Akura family was about to decide for him, it would be no worse than he deserved.
Akura Charity stepped forward, her young-looking face cold as usual. “Kingdom of Seishen. You stand accused of conspiracy to assassinate members of the Akura head family.” She pulled a scripted spike from a void key and held it up.
It resembled a long tent stake made of stone and ringed with runes, and Lindon had seen it before. It was the spatial anchor Daji had tossed into Lindon’s team to summon the Blood Sage. Leading directly to their deaths.
The anchor would be dangerous to carry around, lest someone else use it to teleport into their midst, except that Charity had sealed off the runes with scripted straps. Only once the straps were removed could the device be used again.
“A trusted witness testified that one of you used this device to summon assassins,” the Sage continued. “The traces of madra remaining in the script have aspects similar, possibly identical, to your Paths.”
Seishen Dakata looked to his left, and the horror that slowly crept over his face was enough to tell Lindon he was innocent.
Because his son surely wasn’t.
Meira’s eyes drifted shut, and she heaved a deep sigh.
Charity continued to speak quietly. “Your guilt is beyond doubt. We are gathered here to decide the extent of that guilt and the severity of your punishment. Your fate lies not in your hands…nor in mine.”
She extended the spatial anchor to her right, where Mercy hesitated before taking it. She looked from the scripted spike to her aunt’s face…then, with obvious resolve, she seized the anchor.
When she stepped forward, she quivered with a cold fury of the sort that Lindon had never seen on her. “Underlady Meira,” Mercy said, “I will address you first.”
The script on the leather over Meira’s mouth dimmed, but she didn’t speak.
“Swear to answer my questions truthfully,” Mercy commanded.
There was a long moment before Meira’s voice came out, heavy as a tomb door and quiet as a whisper. “I swear on my soul to answer you with the truth and tell you no lies.”
Lindon felt the oath between Mercy and Meira as a distant quiver in the air. He had a whole new set of senses now. He would have to get used to them.
Sometime after Seishen Daji got his justice.
“What do you know of the attempt on my brother’s life, my life, and the murder of three other young sacred artists of the Akura clan?”
It was strange to hear Mercy speak with such gravity and hidden anger, and indeed she looked furious, grieved, and uncomfortable in equal measure.
Meira shook her head, her eyes still closed. “I knew of no plot against you or the Akura clan until this moment.”
“Do you believe it plausible that one among the Seishen Kingdom did carry out such a plot?”
“Yes.”
“You know who it was, don’t you?”
“…I suspect I do.” Meira tilted her head slightly in Daji’s direction, though her eyes were still closed. “I warned you, Daji. I warned you and warned you.”
King Dakata lunged against his manacles, coming up short at the chain holding him to the ground. He screamed into his muzzle, only a muffled sound coming from him.
“Thank you, Meira,” Mercy said softly. “King Dakata, you may—”
The instant the script around the king’s mouth stopped shining, his shouts resolved. “Me! It was me! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!”
He shrieked in rage, making a show of fury, even snapping his jaws behind his muzzle as though he wished he could bite out Mercy’s throat, but Lindon was certain the anger was just a front.
It was nothing spiritual or supernatural, no working of madra or willpower. The king’s desperation just seemed more like fear than anger.
Mercy’s hand trembled on the anchor. “King Dakata, will you swear—”
“GET OVER HERE!” He craned forward, growling and pulling against his restraints. “RELEASE ME! I’LL DO IT MYSELF!”
“Swear to tell the—”
“KILL ME! KILL ME, YOU COWARDS!”
“Your Majesty, if you won’t cooperate, we’ll have—”
“I’LL RIP OUT YOUR RIBS ONE AT A TIME! I’LL—”
This time, Mercy cut him off.
By leaping across the room and seizing him by the jaw. Her hand covered in a crystalline purple gauntlet, she squeezed across the muzzle on his face, slowly lifting him one-handed until his eyes were even with hers.
The chain binding him to the floor went taut, pulling his arms back by their manacles until his shoulders looked like they were ready to dislocate, but Mercy was filled with incandescent violet rage.
“Shut up. SHUT UP!” Her breathing was wild, her madra growing erratic, and shadows danced all around the room. “What do you think is going to happen? That I’m going to punish you and let your son free? What about your kingdom? You think if you take the blame, everyone else goes home?”
He tried to speak, but she shook him violently with one hand. “I want you to go home! You understand me? That’s what I want. I am not here for anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Not even you.”
His muzzle blazed purple again and she shoved him back down, moving to the third Seishen sacred artist in line. Mercy tucked her hands behind her back, and Lindon knew they were shaking.
His heart ached for her. She must hate this.
Ordinarily, Lindon would feel the same way.
But under the circumstances, he could pass judgment on Daji with an ice-cold heart.
“Seishen Daji,” Mercy said, “swear on your soul to tell me the truth.”
“I swear,” Daji said. He licked his lips but gave her a bold stare, as though trying to cover up fear with bravado.
Mercy drew herself up, and the pressure of her Overlord spirit built like a thunderhead. “Say the rest.”
“I swear to tell you the truth.”
Lindon felt the oath snap into place between the two of them, and he couldn’t deny surprise. He had expected Daji to dodge the promise like his father had done.
Mercy brought out the spatial anchor. “What is this?”
“I don’t know,” Daji said easily.
So easily, and the oath didn’t stop him.