Seishen Dakata looked to his left, and the horror that slowly crept over his face was enough to tell Lindon he was innocent.
Because his son surely wasn’t.
Meira’s eyes drifted shut, and she heaved a deep sigh.
Charity continued to speak quietly. “Your guilt is beyond doubt. We are gathered here to decide the extent of that guilt and the severity of your punishment. Your fate lies not in your hands…nor in mine.”
She extended the spatial anchor to her right, where Mercy hesitated before taking it. She looked from the scripted spike to her aunt’s face…then, with obvious resolve, she seized the anchor.
When she stepped forward, she quivered with a cold fury of the sort that Lindon had never seen on her. “Underlady Meira,” Mercy said, “I will address you first.”
The script on the leather over Meira’s mouth dimmed, but she didn’t speak.
“Swear to answer my questions truthfully,” Mercy commanded.
There was a long moment before Meira’s voice came out, heavy as a tomb door and quiet as a whisper. “I swear on my soul to answer you with the truth and tell you no lies.”
Lindon felt the oath between Mercy and Meira as a distant quiver in the air. He had a whole new set of senses now. He would have to get used to them.
Sometime after Seishen Daji got his justice.
“What do you know of the attempt on my brother’s life, my life, and the murder of three other young sacred artists of the Akura clan?”
It was strange to hear Mercy speak with such gravity and hidden anger, and indeed she looked furious, grieved, and uncomfortable in equal measure.
Meira shook her head, her eyes still closed. “I knew of no plot against you or the Akura clan until this moment.”
“Do you believe it plausible that one among the Seishen Kingdom did carry out such a plot?”
“Yes.”
“You know who it was, don’t you?”
“…I suspect I do.” Meira tilted her head slightly in Daji’s direction, though her eyes were still closed. “I warned you, Daji. I warned you and warned you.”
King Dakata lunged against his manacles, coming up short at the chain holding him to the ground. He screamed into his muzzle, only a muffled sound coming from him.
“Thank you, Meira,” Mercy said softly. “King Dakata, you may—”
The instant the script around the king’s mouth stopped shining, his shouts resolved. “Me! It was me! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all!”
He shrieked in rage, making a show of fury, even snapping his jaws behind his muzzle as though he wished he could bite out Mercy’s throat, but Lindon was certain the anger was just a front.
It was nothing spiritual or supernatural, no working of madra or willpower. The king’s desperation just seemed more like fear than anger.
Mercy’s hand trembled on the anchor. “King Dakata, will you swear—”
“GET OVER HERE!” He craned forward, growling and pulling against his restraints. “RELEASE ME! I’LL DO IT MYSELF!”
“Swear to tell the—”
“KILL ME! KILL ME, YOU COWARDS!”
“Your Majesty, if you won’t cooperate, we’ll have—”
“I’LL RIP OUT YOUR RIBS ONE AT A TIME! I’LL—”
This time, Mercy cut him off.
By leaping across the room and seizing him by the jaw. Her hand covered in a crystalline purple gauntlet, she squeezed across the muzzle on his face, slowly lifting him one-handed until his eyes were even with hers.
The chain binding him to the floor went taut, pulling his arms back by their manacles until his shoulders looked like they were ready to dislocate, but Mercy was filled with incandescent violet rage.
“Shut up. SHUT UP!” Her breathing was wild, her madra growing erratic, and shadows danced all around the room. “What do you think is going to happen? That I’m going to punish you and let your son free? What about your kingdom? You think if you take the blame, everyone else goes home?”
He tried to speak, but she shook him violently with one hand. “I want you to go home! You understand me? That’s what I want. I am not here for anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Not even you.”
His muzzle blazed purple again and she shoved him back down, moving to the third Seishen sacred artist in line. Mercy tucked her hands behind her back, and Lindon knew they were shaking.
His heart ached for her. She must hate this.
Ordinarily, Lindon would feel the same way.
But under the circumstances, he could pass judgment on Daji with an ice-cold heart.
“Seishen Daji,” Mercy said, “swear on your soul to tell me the truth.”
“I swear,” Daji said. He licked his lips but gave her a bold stare, as though trying to cover up fear with bravado.
Mercy drew herself up, and the pressure of her Overlord spirit built like a thunderhead. “Say the rest.”
“I swear to tell you the truth.”
Lindon felt the oath snap into place between the two of them, and he couldn’t deny surprise. He had expected Daji to dodge the promise like his father had done.
Mercy brought out the spatial anchor. “What is this?”
“I don’t know,” Daji said easily.
So easily, and the oath didn’t stop him.
Was it true?
Mercy’s eyebrows twitched, but she went on. “A reliable witness saw you plant this, and then our Archlords stopped you from activating a gatestone. Where would the stone have taken you?”
The fear was leaking out of Daji, leaving confidence. “Home. I feared that a rival of mine would use underhanded tactics to get revenge on me.” He gave an overt glance in Lindon’s direction.
Lindon sensed the bond that stretched between Daji’s soul and Mercy’s. It didn’t tremble.
What’s going on? Lindon asked Dross.
Dross returned an image of himself with both boneless arms spread in a shrug. [Reigan Shen?]
It hadn’t taken a genius to deduce who was behind the attack. The assassins had been openly wearing Shen’s colors.
Still, no matter how certain they were, Malice was the only one who could push a grudge against a Monarch. Malice, and now Fury.
Until he ascended.
It had to have been Reigan Shen that allowed Daji to lie under oath. Not that Lindon had any idea how that would be possible.
But the Akura family hadn’t blindly trusted Lindon because of his long association with Mercy. They’d taken his sworn statement and even read his memory of the event…though as far as they knew, that last part could have been fabricated by Dross.
Not to mention that Lindon hadn’t been the only one on that rooftop. Four others had glimpsed Daji in the vicinity, or seen something thrown to the floor before the group vanished. Everyone here knew who the guilty party was.
Even so, this was only the first stage of the Akura clan’s investigation. It would be long and, no doubt, exhaustive.
Daji’s spine straightened, and he spoke with more confidence. “I know of no plot against the Akura clan, and neither does my father. We are loyal, and we do not deserve this treatment.” He glared at Lindon openly now. “I only know of a plot against us.”
Lindon’s disgust ignited into hot, clean anger.
Mercy’s hand trembled on the anchor. Next to her, Charity’s face was a mask. King Dakata was panting, looking to his son with new hope, as though he hadn’t dared to believe Daji might be innocent. Meira simply looked confused. Confused and tired.
The other Akura around the room glanced to Lindon, and he felt their attention on him. His nerves crawled, and in lesser company, he would have felt their suspicion.
But they hadn’t earned their way into this room on combat strength alone. One by one they surveyed him, then returned their attention to Daji.
Who was trying his hardest to look innocent and hurt.