Behind us, the little man in spectacles slipped in through the door, books and scrolls under his arm. Standing only as tall as I did, he seemed small in comparison to Kye. Thin shoulders punctuated his wiry frame, his eyes hard and intelligent, though I still hadn’t heard him speak a word. Skirting out of our way, he sat in an unoccupied chair in the corner.
Thaan waited for him to settle, then turned to me, bringing his hands together to connect his fingertips. “Please sit,” he said, using his joined hands to indicate the chair directly behind me. Kye’s hands tightened painfully on my shoulder, and I obeyed before he shoved me again—though I immediately disliked having to look up at them both while they stood.
I didn’t enjoy how Thaan looked at me. As though I were something small and vulnerable. Easy prey. Like one of the axis deer that roamed the low mountains, eyes wide as it spotted a hunter across the clearing.
Except he wasn’t a hunter. I didn’t know exactlywhathe was.
“Where am I?” I demanded with a tone of confidence that didn’t match how I felt.
Though I added in enough of the outrage Ididfeel to make up the difference.
Thaan turned up his chin at me, dismissing my outburst. “My dear, you’re in the harbor of Calder City. You’ve been found guilty of witchcraft. By order of the King, you are to be set to flame tomorrow at sunrise.”
“What? I haven't had a trial,” I said in disbelief.
“Your trial was held earlier this morning.”
I glanced at Kye without thinking. He’d moved to lean against the wall, arms crossed as he watched me, expressionless.
“How?” It felt as though the wind had been knocked out of me. “Shouldn’t I have been present at my own trial?”
“Witches do not have the right of appearance. It’s too dangerous. Someone was appointed for you. Witches are kept aboard ships, where they can’t harm civilians. That's the law.”
“Who?” I asked in disbelief. “Who was appointed for me? My father?”
“No, no.” Thaan waved his hand callously in my direction. “A community orator, of course, along with a jury.”
“But I don’t know any orators.” How could someone I’d never met defend me? My breath came in thick, suffocating waves. I coughed once, then couldn’t stop. Bent over in the chair, my hands on my knees, I lost myself in a fit of hacking. The room might’ve been full of noxious gas for how thick the air became. I could almost taste it on my tongue, my eyes watering.
“Some water please, Cain,” Thaan said, unbothered by my display.
The smaller man adjusted his glasses, rose from out of his chair, and left the room, presumably heading down the stairs to the galley, his gaze securely fixed on his own feet. I cleared my throat. Blinking back heat, my eyes wandered the walls, determined not to look at either of them, though I could feel them staring at me. From my periphery, Thaan’s eyes flashed, almost changing colors, and then went back to normal. Listlessly pale blue, then frigid white.
Cain returned to the room with a copper pitcher and a glass. He poured for me and returned to his seat like a leaf in the wind, so quiet and small it remains forgotten until it blows in the way.
I took a drink of the water, setting the glass on the table and rotating it in one hand, watching it turn. “I don’t understand—”
“Well, it’s quite simple. Orators do a poor job of defending criminals. A shame.” Thaan tilted his head at me, feigned remorse in his gaze. Reading people was a skill I admittedlylacked, but I didn’t question the certainty in my gut that he didn’t concern himself with my well-being.
Defeat was easier to experience than it was to accept. Ugly reality swept the room. It commanded my focus, mocking me where I sat, and I sagged under its weight. Reality loves to prove everything else wrong, especially desperately gathered hope.
Nori and Olinne would wonder what had happened to me. And worse, I’d never see my father again. I swallowed a lump of shame. Iwasn’ta witch, but he’d never know. He’d learn I was tried and found guilty, with no assurance otherwise.
What happened now? Would I go back to my cell for the night? Would Thaan bind me in chains and take me ashore? He watched me with a strange expression, waiting for the slow absorption of his words, the dawning clarity of my fate. There was no smile on his mouth, no amusement in his eyes, and at the same time, he harbored a look of satisfaction.
Like he was waiting for something from me. Like hewantedsomething from me.
“Who are you?” I asked.
He stared at me, his expression cooler as the moments passed, frozen eyes piercing mine with alarm. I realized he’d anticipated me to be lost in grief and despair.
His lips twitched. A blur flew across my vision.
Wood cracked, and suddenly I was sprawled out on the floor. The back of my chair bit sideways into my shoulder, one of the legs snapped off. My ears rang. The wooden planks of the ceiling swirled together in a whirlpool above my head.
“How dare you,” he said.
I closed my eyes, willing the maelstrom to stop. My head continued to spin.
