Page 5 of The Hearth Witch’s Guide to Spite & Spellwork

Avery pressed her tongue against the point of her fangs. “The First Law.”

“The First Law, Your Honor,” Norton crooned.

“He was a desperate man.”

“Our world is peopled with desperate men,” Justice Norton spat. “Should they too be justified in murder?”

Public speaking had never been an area of expertise for Avery. Speaking politely to a figure of authority, even less so. To do both while balancing the memory of the last time she was in a courtroom? Even Heracles would have faltered. “If not them, I might be.”

“Hemlock.” Gideon never spoke her first name in public. He felt it helped him maintain professional distance, even when his voice approached an irritatingly paternal tone.

Fate was testing her. Avery took in a long and slow cleansing breath. “Justice Norton,” she began calmly, respectfully. “I am not excusing Osian Goff’s crimes. I am asking that we take into account what drove him to them. What might we correct within ourselves and our society by learning from his mistakes?”

“Mistakes?” His inflection reminded Avery of an alarmed chicken. “Was it a mistake when he violently murdered Alistair Campbell in pursuit of this resurrection?”

“If I was attempting resurrection and had the assistance of a unicorn with Alistair Campbell’s medical expertise, I’d call murdering him a rather large mistake, yes,” Avery deadpanned.

Gideon’s weariness was audible. “Detective, are you going to force this court to hold you in contempt?”

“Lord Blackthorn, I assure you, Justice Norton has enough contempt for me without the help of the court.”

Gideon’s brow minutely twitched, which, as far as Gideon’s expressions went, was practically a grin. Avery would later count this as a victory.

Norton continued, undeterred, “The laws of magic are plain, and those who wield it are obliged to follow them.” He held up his fist and patronizingly lifted a finger as he counted each off. “Magic shall not end or create life. Magic shall not seek to control. Magic shall not impose on another’s mind or body. Magic shall not perpetrate malice. Magic shall not shift the sands of time. Were he merely human, I would move he be severed from magic completely for his crimes, but as he is not, I too must abide by the First Law. Magistrate, unless the detective can provide me a law that would stand in defense of Osian Goff beyond staying his execution, I relinquish my questioning to the Court Mercy.”

Avery sighed. “There are no laws that stand in Osian Goff’s defense.”

Smug, the Justice dipped in a bow, an illusionist revealing the prestige of a great trick. “There you have it.”

“I believe that is the detective’s point, is it not?” Velouette Radu, the Court Mercy, spoke with the warmth and familiarity of a woman among friends. Unlike Norton, Velouette matched the image humans conjured in their minds when they heard the word “fey.” Though she was dressed for court in a smart gray skirt-suit, the zână6 left her hair loose, pale waves of blue and lavender intertwined with strands of starlight that glittered with the slightest movement. As she approached Avery, she adjusted the translucent wings folded down her back, casting a scatter of rainbows on the floor as light passed through them. “That our laws and government did not serve Osian Goff when he needed them most and so he was forced to work outside of them?”

“One cannot live in our world and also demand to be free from its laws.”

“Justice Norton, you relinquished your time,” Gideon reminded. His weary patience was characteristic, but Avery noticed a frost to his tone.

The Mercy smiled her gratitude before continuing as if she had never been interrupted at all. “Detective, did you know Osian Goff before this case?”

“I did not.”

“And, by what we saw in the memories you reported, when you did meet Osian Goff, he attempted to end your life, as well as that of your consultant?”

“That is correct.”

“But you would still advocate for him?” There was no mocking, no condescension in Velouette’s voice, only admiration. The Court Mercy was a champion for empathy, a reminder to the magistrate that while law was free from passion, life was not.

It was the only prompting Avery needed. “Osian Goff faced a tragedy intimately familiar to changelings. Not accepted fully in either world, he was desperate to hold on to the one place he did belong—his family. Mortality, or the death gene, as some call it, does run through our veins, but it is not as swift as it is in our human companions. We watch them wither and die, and there is nothing we can do about it, even when they are struck by illness.” Her voice hitched, and she paused just long enough to smooth out the rough edges. “Perhaps if Osian had found friends here when his wife grew ill, he would not have been so alone when his daughter passed on. Perhaps if our world was kinder to people like him and me, if our community and laws protected us the same, this story would have a different ending.”

“Perhaps, indeed.” Velouette gently patted the railing of the witness stand before retreating. “Thank you, Detective.”

“Your council-appointed position was part of your parole agreement, was it not?” Norton interjected as Avery stood.

“Justice, is this relevant to the case?” It was rare to see Gideon so annoyed by anything other than Avery herself.

Norton slithered closer, again donning an expression that seemed more like a creature imitating what it thought pleasure looked like rather than a genuine smile. “It is relevant to the detective’s statement and character, Your Honor. If the record will have such a passionate plea for a change in our ways, it is equally important to have context about the speaker.”

Gideon’s mouth tightened. It was a small movement but one Avery knew well. It was the same face he made when he realized he was about to lose an argument. He turned to her and indicated with a terse nod that she should answer.

Avery cleared her throat. “It was.”