wide enough to fit six of them: the Governors. Memories of Edgar warning me about them swarm my mind—like they have been for days—since all of this started.
“They are ruthless, Avalon. They rule most things now, and unless an Ancient steps in, their rulings are final. If they can’t come to a cohesive verdict, then yau will go before the Heads of the Families, and their ruling is final. No Ancient can overstep it.”
I asked him why.
“Because each section of the Families has their own Ancients, the ones who started it all.”
Then I asked him why the Families have any say in matters dealing with dragons.
“Because they make up the order keepers. If it weren’t for them, all Norms would know about us.”
I wondered why that would be a bad thing.
“Remember learning about the Salem Witch trials? It would be that all over again, but ten-thousand times worse. The Norms have better weapons now, and we aren’t immune to everything they can throw at us.”
I stare at the dark wood that makes up the base of the stand. I keep my mouth shut. Nothing they do will affect me at this point.
As if it just happened, I feel Maverick’s body convulsing in my arms. A stray tear falls down my face. I bite my inner cheek until the taste of copper floods my mouth. Damn it all.
“Miss Roseman, that requires a response.”
They think I killed him.
“Miss Roseman . . .”
Killing a Royal means death without trial . . . in normal circumstances.
“Answer them, Avalon,” Roseman says. He stands at my left.
Apparently, I’m special.
“As your father, I order you to answer them.”
He is not my father. Not even close. Edgar’s dead, and my parents are missing. What happened to them? I don’t even know what day it is. How long has it been since they captured us?
Do they honestly believe I’m still brainwashed at this point? Are they fools or just delusional?
I pull my lips apart, breaking the dry seal on them. “You think I killed Maverick Hansen.” His name falls off my tongue like an anvil, as if saying it solidifies he’s gone.
“Thank you, Miss Roseman. Now, we will see to your trial,” says the guy at the center of the table, the youngest one there.
The man to his left clears his throat. Deep wrinkles line the underside of his eyes and long jowls hang off his face like a humanoid bulldog. “Since your father is the current head of the Governors. He cannot give the final ruling on your punishment.”
“Killing a Royal means death. However, you are the only female of our kind in many eras,” the youngest governor says.
The man with a long, pointed, penguin nose takes in a deep, nasally breath, which compares to the sound of hacking a loogie. “Thus, we will give you a chance to prove your worth. If you fail, regardless of your status as the only female, you will be put to death. The weak do not belong in our bloodline.”
I should probably be shaking right now. If this were happening at any other time, I would be; but right now, I just couldn’t care less.
“Do you have anything to say for your actions?” the old bulldog asks.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“You were found with Mr. Hansen’s body in your arms. You were in the woods, outside of a rundown cabin, and you were the last one to be seen with him.” He tries to clear his throat, but his words sound like gravel when he says, “As says the witness.” The old bulldog motions to Paden, who sits in the witness box. His dark blue eyes show a coldness . . . no . . . a hatred I have never seen in them before. Spearwood students fill every available pew in the stadiumesque courtroom. Let out of school to see the trial of the century, even the guys sit among them. Bullock sits in his own section and Mirren sits with a group of guys I’ve never seen, but none of them have their true memories back. Who knows if they believe I did it or not.
“His back was shot with an arrow. If I had done that, why would I have stayed with
“They are ruthless, Avalon. They rule most things now, and unless an Ancient steps in, their rulings are final. If they can’t come to a cohesive verdict, then yau will go before the Heads of the Families, and their ruling is final. No Ancient can overstep it.”
I asked him why.
“Because each section of the Families has their own Ancients, the ones who started it all.”
Then I asked him why the Families have any say in matters dealing with dragons.
“Because they make up the order keepers. If it weren’t for them, all Norms would know about us.”
I wondered why that would be a bad thing.
“Remember learning about the Salem Witch trials? It would be that all over again, but ten-thousand times worse. The Norms have better weapons now, and we aren’t immune to everything they can throw at us.”
I stare at the dark wood that makes up the base of the stand. I keep my mouth shut. Nothing they do will affect me at this point.
As if it just happened, I feel Maverick’s body convulsing in my arms. A stray tear falls down my face. I bite my inner cheek until the taste of copper floods my mouth. Damn it all.
“Miss Roseman, that requires a response.”
They think I killed him.
“Miss Roseman . . .”
Killing a Royal means death without trial . . . in normal circumstances.
“Answer them, Avalon,” Roseman says. He stands at my left.
Apparently, I’m special.
“As your father, I order you to answer them.”
He is not my father. Not even close. Edgar’s dead, and my parents are missing. What happened to them? I don’t even know what day it is. How long has it been since they captured us?
Do they honestly believe I’m still brainwashed at this point? Are they fools or just delusional?
I pull my lips apart, breaking the dry seal on them. “You think I killed Maverick Hansen.” His name falls off my tongue like an anvil, as if saying it solidifies he’s gone.
“Thank you, Miss Roseman. Now, we will see to your trial,” says the guy at the center of the table, the youngest one there.
The man to his left clears his throat. Deep wrinkles line the underside of his eyes and long jowls hang off his face like a humanoid bulldog. “Since your father is the current head of the Governors. He cannot give the final ruling on your punishment.”
“Killing a Royal means death. However, you are the only female of our kind in many eras,” the youngest governor says.
The man with a long, pointed, penguin nose takes in a deep, nasally breath, which compares to the sound of hacking a loogie. “Thus, we will give you a chance to prove your worth. If you fail, regardless of your status as the only female, you will be put to death. The weak do not belong in our bloodline.”
I should probably be shaking right now. If this were happening at any other time, I would be; but right now, I just couldn’t care less.
“Do you have anything to say for your actions?” the old bulldog asks.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“You were found with Mr. Hansen’s body in your arms. You were in the woods, outside of a rundown cabin, and you were the last one to be seen with him.” He tries to clear his throat, but his words sound like gravel when he says, “As says the witness.” The old bulldog motions to Paden, who sits in the witness box. His dark blue eyes show a coldness . . . no . . . a hatred I have never seen in them before. Spearwood students fill every available pew in the stadiumesque courtroom. Let out of school to see the trial of the century, even the guys sit among them. Bullock sits in his own section and Mirren sits with a group of guys I’ve never seen, but none of them have their true memories back. Who knows if they believe I did it or not.
“His back was shot with an arrow. If I had done that, why would I have stayed with
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