Chapter 301: Queen Mom
I've never been so proud of Mom. How she held herself like a queen, not a prisoner, the way she smiled at everyone as though they were there to see her, as a star, someone they admired.
And they did admire her. The outswell of positive energy was almost overwhelming. So much for the jealousy and bad feelings Pender mentioned toward us and our coven. They loved Mom, it was obvious. I didn't take my eyes off of her to know it and didn't need to. Our magic was so close it felt all connected and it was clear the gathered witches viewed her as someone to be adored and venerated.
I allowed myself a moment of cocky confidence. Batsheva and Odette's evil plans didn't stand a chance. Not against Mom's popularity.
Epiphany moment. Was this why they were going after Mom? Odette's reasons were clear to me, what with her revenge vendetta and all. And while I knew Batsheva wanted Mom's power, was there more to it? Was this a way to prevent my mother from breaking Batsheva's hold on the Council?
The doors sealed behind the Enforcer trailing Mom as she stepped up her pace, walking slightly ahead of the one meant to lead her, a subtle move putting her on the center podium as if she'd gone there of her own choice and not theirs. Both fell back to join the others at the door.
I tried to reach for Mom, but she was too tightly shielded by the Council magic. I knew I could break through it, but didn't want to give them a further transgression to use against her or the family as a whole. Instead, I did my best to emulate her as she took her place and smiled with true kindness and poise at the Council. How she managed to keep a straight face when she looked on Batsheva I had no idea, unless someone, somehow tipped her off.
"Council," Mom said in her best coven leader voice, all kindness and generosity, "I am most pleased to finally be in your presence."
I'm pretty sure my mother just stole Batsheva's thunder and, from the look on the woman's face, she wasn't happy about it.
"The charges will be read." I think Batsheva had a speech planned from the way she sat back in her chair with a huff.
"Miriam Hayle," Batsheva glared at Mom as her secretary read from a fresh sheet of black parchment, "you are here to face your Council on multiple charges." He began to read them off, all of them familiar. I'd heard them before, the night of her arrest, and listened with about as much attention to the trumped-up list of garbage they tried to pass off as illegal acts.
But Gram wouldn't let me brush it off. This is important, she sent. We need to know what they are coming at her with so we can prepare a counter. She hesitated before going on. Honestly, you're right. Her mental voice took on a sad note. There's really only one charge in the whole list that's going to give us trouble. And it's a doozy.
I knew to what she referred, could hardly forget it. Or the sight of my father, fresh blood on his hands and the knife he used to try to manipulate blood magic in his quest to return to Demonicon. I still didn't know if it was Mom's magic or the family power which covered up what he'd done. I was just glad, at least at the time, he'd confessed. I knew I would have done as Mom asked, carried the secret with me forever, but I also knew it would have eaten away at me and my sense of honor.
Now I was wondering if the price wouldn't have been worth it. The secretary wound down, some trash about allowing an Unseelie lordling access to a Sidhe Gate, a fact Mom had nothing to do with and a mess I cleaned up, thank you.
"And the most serious charges," he peered over the edges of his spectacles at her as if she wasn't paying attention, "attacking another coven and instigating a battle with their leader." I ground my teeth together, shooting a glare at Odette who looked suddenly angelic, the mistress of hurt and innocence. The room hummed with whispers as the covens talked it over. "Finally," the annoying little man raised his nasally voice, making my ears hurt, "you are charged with aiding and abetting a blood magic user."
I honestly felt like we'd lost then and there. Any hope I had, any confidence built in the support of the witches was gone, shattered by those words. I was amazed at the reaction, really, as Batsheva's power flared and raced to reinforce the seals again. Was she worried someone might try to break out? Or break in? It didn't matter. Only the angry witches did. Had they not known the charges against Mom? Clearly they hadn't. Because the moment the secretary fell silent, the page falling to his side as he dropped his arms and glared at her, the entire room went quiet.
And then, the uproar. Even the coven leaders were shouting, looking at Mom, looking at me, demanding to know what the hell was going on. I honestly think, from the look on Tallah's face at least, none of them had a clue and honestly thought this conclave was just a formality.
Totally craptastic.
It was so hard not to shout over the others, to point at Batsheva and accuse her of the same, yell how Odette was part of it. But I kept still, if only because the gentle, quiet look on Mom's face never wavered. She stood strong and straight, unflinching as they turned their wrath on her.
Any reaction from me would lessen her position. And I refused to ruin it for her. I plastered on what I hoped was a coven leader expression and held my seat, forcing myself to breathe while I prayed my mother knew what she was doing.
The noise finally died down as witches reclaimed their seats, everyone settling into sullen silence. Gone was their admiration, their adoration. She was a pariah suddenly, despised and judged before she could even be tried. The accusation seemed to be all that was required.
As I looked over the sea of faces, I felt my own twist into a look of steady disapproval and disappointment.
They made me sick.
Yes, Gram whispered in my mind. Sheep, the whole lot of them. You see where their compassion has gone, their sense of sisterhood. I knew then she referred to the leaders around me. Those who spoke for your mother now think twice about it. This is the battle we face, Sydlynn. This.
Batsheva held up one hand, silence answering her gesture. Her benevolent expression had returned, the one I was certain hid the glee she felt at her victory. When she spoke, her voice dripped with false concern and sincerity.
"Miriam Hayle," she said, "these charges, though some of them minor, add up to a large body of treachery, capped by the betrayal of your witchcraft." A few mumbles met her words, but they didn't last. "We will hear all evidence and from all witnesses beginning in the morning. You will continue your confinement until the time you are either deemed innocent and set free, or guilty and put to death."
How casually she said it. Again the power in the room shifted slightly as every single soul there realized what she meant, the tingle of Batsheva's magic racing around the room yet again. I was getting tired of her constant play on the seals. Was it a sign of her own nervousness? Beyond her power, I could feel the collective consciousness; how the gathering's outrage at Mom's actions had turned to the fear they might have to actually witness the death of a coven leader.
"All rise." We did, as one, though I was slower to gain my feet as Batsheva stood and led the Council out. I didn't watch them go, couldn't care less, was too focused on my mother. She was led away as the wards on the side door opened, allowing the Council to leave. Batsheva's magic retreated, the seals remaining, pulsing with visible power around the open doorways. Mom followed behind the Enforcer who gestured for her to move.
As she turned, her eyes met mine for a long moment. I would cherish the smile she gave me for a very long time. Mom nodded slowly to me and I nodded back, wishing there was some way I could tell her Gram was with me.
She knows. Gram's voice was subdued. Your mother is fully aware I would never leave you to deal with this alone.
As soon as Mom was gone, the witches in the hall began to filter out. They went with their heads down and their magic quiet, whispering among themselves, slinking away as if wishing they hadn't come to the conclave after all. There had been an almost festive feel to the group in the beginning, likely fed by curiosity. Now there was just doubt and shame.
We'll be missing a few tomorrow. No way were the majority coming back.
Gram's laugh was evil and harsh. They don't have a choice. She grunted, clearly angry. Their foolish nosiness has brought them into something they are now forced to witness.
Huh? What do you mean?
Gram's mental eye roll was a classic. The black parchment you signed with your magic. That wasn't some idle act. Your magic is now tied up with the rest of them. You could no more walk away from this trial than stop breathing.
Serves them right. A surge of rage ran through me as Tallah and the other leaders left me there in my seat. I was alone very quickly, even the secretary's helpers vanishing through the doors. Well, not quite. I had Gram. And the yummy tall, dark and handsome guy slowly making his way toward me with his hands stuck in his pockets and his chocolate eyes full of sorrow.
Agreed. She hugged me quickly. There's hope yet or I wouldn't have allowed this farce of a trial to happen at all. I could only imagine Gram would have taken some permanent steps to ensure Odette never appeared at the conclave. This is important, Syd. The fate of all covens rests on this. They need to see how corrupt their system has become.
I don't care about some political agenda. I gestured for Quaid to join me, mouthed "Gram" to him. His eyes widened and he sat next to me in Tallah's seat, watching and holding my hand.
You should, she snapped. You'll be leader for real someday. I don't want you to inherit this mess. Do you?
Okay, fair enough. Big picture. Got it.
Gram's mind vanished and I was about to reach for her when I felt another touch mine.
Syd. Erica's voice was clearer than I'd ever heard it and felt boosted. Right. The Council magic.
Sorry to spring that on you. I hugged her mentally. Are you doing okay?
She laughed. Now you ask. Her sigh was soft, but not unhappy. Smart move, well done.
No way was I telling her it was Gram's idea.
You know there's only one problem with this plan of yours? She hugged me back, though her mental embrace seemed reserved.
What's that? Great, more trouble.
You've tied my hands. Her voice came out very quiet, almost regretful. Your mother will expect me to obey the letter of the law. And we both know what that might mean.
Yes. I let her go and put some distance between our power, feeling the Council energy rise to form a wall of magic. I know.
I'm sorry, Syd. And I'm not. You made me very proud today. And I know Miriam feels the same.
She left me then without another word, her new and unfamiliar magic gone in a whisper.
I was so glad I had Quaid there to hold my hand.
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