Chapter 1
“Sorcerer Thomas Quinn, how do you respond to these allegations?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Allegations?” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest. “You mean unsubstantiated rumors, selective misinterpretation of events, and outright lies?”
The thin, officious balding man sitting in the middle of the table at the front of the room didn’t react at all beyond the slightest twitch of his left eyelid, but the beautiful woman to his left audibly snickered. He shot her a withering glare, but she just ignored him.
He turned his attention back to me, standing a dozen feet in front of the table, his expression irritated.
“Sorcerer Quinn,” he replied in a nasal, Italian-accented whine, “several of your peers in the Arcanum have raised official concerns about your behavior over the course of the recent events in Philadelphia and the Otherworld, your investigation into the so-called Tamesis rites. Several have expressed particular alarm at your apparent disregard for the ancient customs of our society, as well as your willingness to risk breaching the Treaty of Tara without first consulting duly authorized officials of the Arcane Court. The Lord Justice has formally impaneled this Tribunal to investigate these allegations, to determine whether you are in violation of your oaths to the Arcanum, and to recommend to the Court any appropriate sanction. It would behoove you not to take these proceedings lightly, no matter who your parents are.”
I grimaced and rolled my eyes.
“Kiss my ass, Marco,” I said flatly, locking my eyes on his. “We’ve known each other for two centuries—you know I fight my own battles. As for the rest of it, this whole thing is bullshit, and I’ll take it exactly as seriously as it deserves.”
“I—” he began to reply, but the hulking man seated to his right put up a hand before he could get out anything further.
“Sorcerer Quinn,” he interrupted in a deep, rumbling, Hindi-accented baritone, “rather than letting this discussion devolve into name-calling between you and Sorcerer Lombardi, who does technically happen to be the chair of this tribunal, how about you just take us through your version of what happened?”
I continued glaring daggers at Marco Lombardi for another few seconds, then just shrugged and shifted my attention to his companion at the table.
“Okay, Vishruth,” I said. “Since you asked so nicely.”
I took a deep breath, thinking of where to begin.
“On the fourth of August, an unranked Sorcerer named Evan Townes was murdered in the city of Philadelphia. On the fifth of August, his murder came to my attention and I decided I needed to investigate, since the greater Philadelphia area is my declared territory. I discovered Evan was the sacrificial victim of some major blood rite, the purpose of which was unclear, but evidence pointed to the Fae.”
“What evidence?” the woman on Marco’s left asked, her own melodic accent that of the Igbo people of Nigeria.
I smiled politely at her. I’d always liked Adaeze Onyeneme more than most of my fellow sorcerers. I’d even had a schoolboy crush on her in my youth, though she’d been gracious enough to pretend not to notice, since she was almost a hundred years my senior and a close friend of my mother.
“The focusing spells were written in Faen glyphs with the victim’s blood,” I answered.
“And what did they say?” Vishruth asked.
“I didn’t know,” I replied, switching my gaze back to him. “I recognized the glyphs, not the language.”
“And that was enough to convince you of Fae involvement in the murder of an Arcanum-trained sorcerer? Just some glyphs that anyone could have gotten out of a book?”
“No, of course not.” I shook my head. “The details of the ritual that I could reconstruct from the crime scene were strikingly reminiscent of reports I found in the Annals of a series of blood rites from the ninth century, which the Arcanum attributed to an Unseelie Faerie called the Avartagh. Then, at the scene of the second sacrifice, I felt clear traces of Fae magic. At that point, I decided to enlist Aengus Óg’s assistance in translating the focusing spells, and perhaps in investigating should he agree it was likely a Treaty matter.”
“And at what point,” Marco spoke up, his voice grating my ears, “did you decide to bring two uninitiated human police officers with you to meet a prince of the Tuatha Dé at the Faerie Market?”
“I didn’t,” I snapped, locking eyes with the object of my irritation and struggling to control my temper. “I had already initiated Detective Henri Lajoie into the mysteries prior to that meeting.”
“So you admit to your first breach of the Treaty of Tara?”
“There was no breach,” I growled. “Henri Lajoie is Antoine Richelieu’s grandson.”
“Antoine’s grandson?” Adaeze interjected, her eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know his daughter had any children. How is Isabelle these days?”
“Dead,” I answered with a shrug. “She and the rest of Henri’s family were murdered several years after Antoine disappeared. He was placed in foster care, which is why he had not been initiated before we met.”
“That’s terrible,” Adaeze said quietly, her eyes closing.
“Yes, it is.” I nodded. “But orphaned or not, Henri had every right to be initiated. And considering he had just confronted me with video evidence of magic caught on a hidden camera, which he had arranged to leak to unnamed parties in the police and news media should anything happen to him, I decided it was in everyone’s best interests that he know the truth.”
“Very well,” Vishruth said. “We all remember Antoine and Isabelle fondly, and it is true that both Treaty and custom allow his grandchild to know the reality of the world. But Sorcerer Lombardi mentioned a second police officer?”
“Detective Adrienne Connors.” I nodded. “Henri’s partner. I originally had no intention of bringing her to meet with Aengus—or even of bringing Henri, for that matter. But he insisted he come, and he threatened to release his video should I refuse to bring her, too. He also pointed out that trying to conduct a separate investigation without her was just going to make her suspicious, and likely to result in even more trouble. After careful consideration, I judged that the risks of initiating her were lower than the risks of trying to keep her in the dark.”
“And thus you unilaterally breached the Treaty of Tara,” Marco said, failing to keep the note of satisfied triumph from his voice.
“No, Marco,” I replied, “as a sniveling bureaucrat, I’m sure you’re well aware of the actual wording of the Treaty. It explicitly allows for the initiation of non-parties in dire circumstances. I determined the circumstances to be dire.”
“A decision you made without any consultation with the local Rector or any other duly appointed official of the Court!”
“I’m a goddamned First Rank,” I snapped. “And much as you might wish otherwise, the Arcanum has no authority over the First Rank within our own declared territories as long as we adhere to our oaths. I don’t need to ask anyone’s permission to make a reasonable judgment call in the moment.” I glared at him for another few seconds, until he looked away with a sniff. “Besides,” I continued, directing my attention back to Vishruth and Adaeze, “I’d already called my local Rector, Rachel Liu, to alert her of the details of the case. At that time I informed her that Henri had been initiated, and that the evidence indicated involvement by the Avartagh or another Faerie. Given that it was in my territory, she asked me to handle it while she dealt with a wechuge in the Canadian Rockies. I proceeded to handle it.”
“Even so,” Vishruth said, “you probably should have discussed the merits of bringing an uninitiated law enforcement official to the Faerie Market, let alone to the Otherworld, with her or another officer of the Court. Just to ensure there was no misunderstanding with the other Treaty parties.”
“Maybe,” I conceded, “but two sorcerers were already dead, with no signs of things stopping there. Time was of the essence, and I did what I judged appropriate. And since Aengus agreed with my decision to bring Detective Connors to the meeting, there clearly was no Treaty violation, no matter how many times Marco here insists to the contrary.”
“Let us move on,” Vishruth said quickly, putting a hand up to forestall Marco’s response. “The next allegation is a breach of the Market Truce.”
“We were attacked outside the Market while waiting for a ride home. I defended myself. Aengus quickly locked down the area and summoned Rachel, who interviewed the witnesses and cleared me of any breach.”
“Yes, we have read her report, and will hear her testimony later today. You…shot the would-be assassin? With a gun?”
I snorted. “That’s correct.” I left it at that.
Vishruth raised an eyebrow, but he moved on.
“After the events at the Market, the Lord Marshal formally charged you with investigating the matter on behalf of the Arcane Court, so we shall dispense with the allegation of initiating a third police officer and move to the two major remaining concerns. You killed a Sorceress of the Third Rank.”
“In self-defense,” I grunted, “Samantha Carr had already wounded me severely, and was actively attacking Henri Lajoie when I killed her. I then killed one of her companions, a rogue sorcerer, when he and another compatriot were attempting to abduct me.”
“Do you have any witnesses to corroborate your claim of self-defense?” he asked.
“Sam burned Henri’s arm off just before I put a bullet through her brain. I’m certain he’d be willing to testify to that fact should you ask him.”
“Hm,” Vishruth said, pausing in thought. “Very well, the final issue: you allegedly knew of the existence of a powerful magical threat to our world and the Otherworld for decades, and kept the existence of Johannes, the so-called Immortal, a secret from the Court.”
“That’s not how I would characterize it,” I said, my voice harsh as I struggled to control the anger welling up at the mere mention of Johannes.
“How would you characterize it, then?” Adaeze asked.
“I would say that I was deceived and manipulated by someone I considered a friend and a mentor, who pretended to care for me for most of a century, only to betray my trust and attempt to murder me in an insane attempt to conquer the world,” I growled. “And I would say that while I knew he was powerful, I had no reason to consider Johannes a threat to humanity or the Fae until the moment he revealed his involvement in the Tamesis, and thus had no obligation to report his existence to the Arcanum prior to that point. And, finally, I would say that shortly after discovering who and what he really was, I reported his existence to the Lord Marshal and, with her assistance, killed him, ending the threat.”
“Any reasonable sorcerer would have recognized a being of such power was a potential threat regardless of his purported intentions! Your choice not to inform the Court of his existence prior to August was clearly in violation of your oaths!” Marco exclaimed excitedly, unable to keep the tone of triumph from his whiny voice.
“Fuck you, Marco,” I snarled, glaring at him. “You’re a pathetic piss-ant who hasn’t done anything with your life except criticize others. You’ve never once risked death to protect humanity, and you have the balls to talk about my oath to do so? Remind me what you did during the Shadow War again? Oh, yes—you sat in a fortified war room commanding the scribes and bureaucrats and apprentices while the rest of the First Rank, and most of the Second and Third, were out on the front lines fighting and dying. How fucking dare you talk about my oaths?”
“I was Chief of Staff for the Arcane Court, you impudent pup!” Marco sputtered in outrage. “And you will immediately apologize for that outburst and show me the respect I am due as the chair of this Tribunal, or the Lord Justice will hear about this!”
“Perhaps—” Vishruth tried to mediate, but I interrupted.
“No. We’re done here. I have nothing further to say to this pathetic excuse for a Sorcerer of the First Rank, and have given him every ounce of respect he is due. Tell Gertrude whatever you want about my manners.” I spun on my heel and strode out of the room.