Tainted: Book Three - Enslaved

51. Skulking in Shadows

Tara

Holding onto John's arm as we walked across the Great Hall, my eyes darted everywhere.

It looked like what I thought a courthouse would look like: A few wooden benches here and there, high ceilings, tall windows, overhead lights, stairs with railings, and tile floors.

"Do not say a word," Ms. Chapman instructed us as she marched us along. "Hold your tongue no matter what you hear. No one would listen to you, anyway, and you would be ejected from the room."

We both nodded to show our understanding.

Ms. Chapman led us to a set of huge wooden doors. On either side stood a guard wearing serious armor and loaded with weapons. The man had, I kid you not, an enormous double-headed ax in his hands. A sword hilt stuck out from behind each of the woman's shoulders. Their faces were still and remote; only their eyes moved in a constant scan of their surroundings.

"We've stepped into a Dungeons and Dragons campaign," I muttered and gripped John's hand.

His liquid black eyes swung down to mine as he nodded, but he didn't reply, which was typical. I'd been puzzled by it when we first started dating, and worried that he was either aloof or haughty, but then I'd realized that was who he was. Quiet and private and calm. If he felt he had something worth saying, he spoke. Otherwise, he stayed silent.

And I was fine with that. I found it restful.

We followed Ms. Chapman into the chamber, which was dark despite several huge iron candelabras full of beeswax candles. A semi-circle of wooden benches was arranged into three tiers with a podium set on the floor. There was also a square dias in the center of the room with an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that I assumed was for witnesses or whatever.

"Helene." The low voice made me jump.

I swiveled my head to see a man bleed out of a dark corner. He was dressed in black from head to toe, perfect for skulking in shadows, and his flat brown eyes made me think of a cobra staring at a rat.

"Javier." Ms. Chapman inclined her head.

She didn't introduce us to him or interact with anyone else in the room. She simply led us to our seats.

It wasn't long before the preliminaries started. I tuned out most of the ceremonial stuff and only tuned back in when Mr. Gaines asked if there was an elder who wished to speak before the vote was cast.

Ms. Chapman stood, and my hand tightened around John's.

This was it. If she couldn't sway her peers, Mr. Snyder would be tried in absentia for crimes he didn't commit.

"Almost two millennia ago," she began in her teacher tone, "the archangels met with nephilim leaders from around the world to offer what protection they could to our race. Together, the two groups created sanctuaries, ordained a council of elders, and established the system of wardens."

Where is she going with this? I wondered.

Of course, neither she nor Clem had shared the plan they'd concocted, so we could only sit here and trust them.

"We all know our history, Helene," Mr. Gaines burst in."Get on with it."

My eyebrows flew up. You did not interrupt Ms. Chapman, not without unpleasant consequences.

"If your recall of history is as poor as your manners, Henry, then you'll benefit from the reminder!" she snapped. "Wardens safeguard the future—"

"The future?" Mr. Gaines cut her off again, this time with a raised voice. "Do you refer to those children next to you? Teenagers who haven't reached their first century yet, and friends of that demon-tainted boy, no less. Has he influenced them, Helene? For all this Council knows, he has corrupted them. For all we know, he has corrupted you! Tell me the truth: Did you conspire to help the traitor escape?"