Page 83 of Vengefully Matched

Council rules were clear with individual nations and in international magical law: portaling was almost exclusively shut down. The rules specified that it was absolutely not to be used except in the event of clear and present danger of preventable mass casualty or cases of potentially destabilizing political crime.

So she was halfway to becoming an international war criminal, it turned out.

Priscilla slammed her eyes shut. This was not how she had imagined her afternoon going; she was going to show off her skill with the Loculus spell and woo Agatha in earnest afterward. She was going to reveal her hidden feelings, to finally tell Agatha that they were real, and that they weren’t going to be together just once, just to get it out of their systems.

Instead, she was here, set up in the Council courtroom, which had been temporarily taken over by the three witches looming on the bench before her. Unlike most modern witches, who dressed in mundane clothing, the triumvirate wore robes, similar to those of mundane judges, but shimmering with rich magical history passed down through generations of the most revered judicial body in the witchery community.

A witching courtroom was almost exactly like a mundane one, with the exception, of course, of the magical projection box that displayed evidence interactively projected for the jury. Because it was only a preliminary hearing, Priscilla stood in front of them, and not on the stand. Juries were not called for this sort of hearing, only immediate witnesses and the judges.

The eldest judge, Horatio Thistlewinch, raised a hand.

“Priscilla Guinevere Hart, you stand accused of the kidnapping and attempted assassination of North American Council of Witchery president Agatha Vanderbilt Voisin. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” she said, eyes bouncing from the judges to Otho, to Kevin and Nancy. Azrael sat next to Otho, face drawn and serious. Only the prohibition of nonwitches not specifically summoned could have stopped Vickie, Priscilla told herself. It was nice that her brother was here, even though there was no way in heaven the judges would let him testify.

Probably for the best, as under oath he might have to reveal some of her more nefarious at-home pranks against him. Not that any of them came close to what she stood accused of now.

Judge Thistlewinch nodded. Next to him, Esmerelda Clay raised a hand. “Would the first witness, Nancy Ashbrooke, agree to give testimony?”

“Yes,” said Nancy, voice a little shaky.

“Nancy Ashbrooke, what did you see of the kidnapping of Agatha Vanderbilt Voisin and the theft of the Loculus?”

“Very little,” said Nancy, wringing her hands. “I was outside of her office, at my uncle’s desk, logging the travel plans for the month, and there was a boom, and then a blur of motion, and the Loculus whipped out of the conference room so fast I couldn’t even see who was in it. It was all in a weird cloud of shimmery red, and it knocked into Kevin.”

As though feeling it all over again, Kevin rubbed a purple bump spreading underneath a bandage on his forehead.

“Thank you,” said Judge Clay.

“Mr. Kevin Cross, would you agree to give testimony?” Judge Thistlewinch asked once again, in a way that made it very much clear that this was not actually a question but a command.

“Yes,” said Kevin, his voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat and went on. “I was at my desk. I stood up when I heard a boom from the conference room where Priscilla was working the spell, and then I felt the impact, and that stunned me for a moment, and the next thing I knew, the president had been kidnapped, and Otho was yelling, asking Priscilla what she had done, and Priscilla was just standing there, looking guilty.”

It was an unfair assumption, and she wanted to say so, but there was no use talking until it was her turn; it wouldn’t help her case to interrupt. She knew as well as anyone the etiquette expectations for such a hearing. Still, she wanted to shake Kevin, for calling her guilty just because she’d been practicing magic on a powerful artifact that happened to have been involved in the crime. And most of all, she wanted to shake the guilt she felt over being the reason Agatha’s anti-kidnapping spell work was not available to her at the time of the attack.

By using it to protect Priscilla from the Loculus the first time, she’d left herself vulnerable until a full coven could recast it. It did make Priscilla look guilty, precipitating that use at just the right time.

“Otho Ashbrooke, do you agree to give your account?” Ashanti Antonov, the third judge, peered over horn-rimmed glasses at him.

“Certainly,” said Otho, looking at Priscilla, brows furrowing.

“Your magnanimous Honors,” he began, a pedant as always, “I have known Priscilla Hart for her entire life, and I want to start by noting that I do not believe her to be an arsonist, a kidnapper, or a murderer. I believe her to be an upstanding citizen and a fine member of the North American Council of Witchery.”

“Very well, Councilman Ashbrooke, noted. Now please try and give us an honest and straightforward answer about what you saw.”

He nodded, looking at Priscilla apologetically.

“Well, we were working on the Loculus. Priscilla had prepped the potions and Agatha and I had stabilized the Loculus and brought it into the room. I stabilized it again, Priscilla spelled an older patch with her potion, and then Agatha worked the magic to remove it. After that, Priscilla applied a second potion, and this time, she worked a spell to repatch the Loculus, and then did the work to reprogram it. She stood up, said it should do exactly as she commanded, and snapped her fingers. And then, most unfortunately, it snapped into place around Agatha, and poof! Flew off in a burst of shiny red magic.”

“Did you hear her give the command?”

Otho shook his head. “No. It’s delicate spell work, so much so that it’s the sort of thing to be whispered quite intimately. The Loculus is over four hundred years old; it requires a careful touch. But I’m certain Priscilla told it to return to its proper place, and not to kidnap anyone.”

“Otho Ashbrooke, please confirm. Did you or did you not hear her issue the order?” asked Judge Thistlewinch.

“I did not,” said Otho, squirming.

“Is there any other relevant situational information we should know about this incident before we question the accused?”