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The thatcher's story was amplified by that of two carpenters and a bricklayer, who reported missing tools and materials they later discovered in and around the same house, while the tavernkeep of the Red Sail identified Jack as the very same man who'd suddenly taken up residence in the abandoned cottage.

"I visited the Red Sail, yes," Jack admitted, "but I do not maintain a residence upon the Ladyrock. And I certainly cannot be held accountable if its mysterious owner finally decided to fix the place up. Why do I stand accused of repairing his roof?"

Randall Morran, the Master Crafter of the city's bardic guild, climbed to the stand with a serious and weighty expression on his face. "The accused took part in the Game of Masks under the guise of Lord Fox," reported the Master Crafter. "I was present in the robing room on several occasions when he was given his mask for the game or removing it at the end of the evening. He was suspected of cheating by several other players, although I cannot honestly say that I witnessed it."

"Of course I participated in the Game," Jack said cordially. "I was given to understand that, within the Game, players were expected to make full use of all the resources at their disposal to solve the riddle. I would never condone any such behavior had the Game not required that sort of thing to begin with. That was part of the fun!"

Lady Mantis spoke next, although she wore no mask in the courtroom. "I happened to overhear a conversation between Lord Fox and Lord Tiger, whom we now know was Toseiyn Dulkrauth," Milyth Leorduin reported. "They were planning some kind of attack or ambush within the Game, something about arming the Faceless Lords with magical wands and striking during the Blue Lord's Revel. I regret to say that I deemed their conversation to be nothing more than a game within the Game. If only I'd known that they plotted a real murder!" She wiped real tears from her eyes and sobbed delicately. "I cannot imagine what kind of fiend would plan such a thing as the attack at the theater the other night!"

"Ah-ha!" said Jack. "The Lady Mantis seeks to reverse her guilt upon me! She reports the very evidence I would have given against her. I require her immediate arrest upon the charges you have mistakenly assigned to me!"

"The fiend burned down my skewer stand and made off with the receipts of a full day's business," complained a vendor in sausages from the Anvil, "and he fondled my wife as well!"

Jack squinted at the fellow and shifted nervously. He didn't remember doing anything like that. "Perhaps the gentleman has confused me with somebody else," he offered timidly.

"I found him spying upon my girls in their dressing rooms, lurking about invisibly while they bathed after a performance," stated the proprietor of a festhall and dance revue. "When I cornered him, he worked an enchantment upon me that led me to distribute all the money in my coffers and crawl to the Temple of Loviatar on my hands and knees, groveling for forgiveness!"

"I am certain I had nothing to do with that!" Jack cried. "Besides, if I was invisible, how in the world does he know it was me?"

"Because you threw off your spell in order to ride upon my back, lashing me with a cat-o-nine-tails and composing shameful limericks the whole way!" the man stated. "What did I ever do to you, you villain?"

An awful suspicion began to dawn in Jack's heart. He hadn't burned down the sausage-vendor's shack or harried the whoremaster all the way to the temple of the bitch goddess, but it was not inconceivable that his shadow-self might have done these things during the days it was free to make use of his appearance and abilities. He looked over to the gallery where witnesses waited, observing the trial. Dozens of sullen, angry stares weighed upon him like leaden chains.

"Are they all here to testify against me?" he asked the bailiff in a stage whisper.

The officer shrugged. "Only a dozen or so. The rest are here to beg the Lord High Magistrate for your death, on account of the injuries you wreaked on their loved ones, property, and acquaintances."

"Oh," Jack replied. He turned to face the Magistrate as the last witness filed down from the stand. "My lord, is it truly necessary to hear anymore evidence of this sort? It is clear to me that the city has built a flimsy case out of hearsay and circumstantial evidence. I beg you, let us end this farce before we exhaust one more moment of your undoubtedly important time. I am feeling quite magnanimous and shall generously forgive my slanderers for any misstatements or untruths they spoke, in the interest of speeding along these proceedings."

"It is ironic that you should speak of truth," Tordon Sureblade said grimly. He held up one hand-a glint of gold encircled one thick finger. "I wear upon my left hand a ring of truth, which prevents me from speaking any falsehood. It also makes clear to me the falsehoods of others. You, sir, have twisted and wormed your way through the entire hearing, mixing lies and falsehoods with glimmers of a false earnestness. Never in my years of serving this city on the bench of high justice have I encountered such a morally dissolute and utterly despicable person as yourself!"

"I didn't lie about the Lady Milyth's testimony! Or about the sausage vendor's wife, or the whoremaster's tale!"

"Rare exceptions over the course of the last three hours," the magistrate said. He threw a stern look at the gallery, where Lady Milyth Leorduin sat in a noble's box with a small retinue. The noblewoman's face was set in a look of utter serenity, as if she deemed the proceedings completely beneath her notice. "And I will look into these anomalous testimonies. But the fact remains that you are guilty of burglary on at least two accounts, conspiracy, and most seriously of all, high treason by way of your association with the Warlord's agent in the city. Can you present any evidence or testimony to contradict these findings?"

Jack nodded vigorously. "Yes, I can, Lord High Magistrate. I require several days of liberty-escorted by city officers, of course! — to build the case for my defense. I can contest each and every one of these very serious charges."

The magistrate held up his hand, on which gleamed the ring of truth. "I didn't think so," he said in a tired voice. "Bailiff, remove the prisoner. He is to be incarcerated in the fortress of Ill-Water for a period of one tenday, during which time I intend to open an investigation into the affair of the Game of Masks and Lady Milyth's role therein, as well as the other charges of which the defendant was truly ignorant. Then he is to be hanged by the neck until dead unless the circumstances of the investigation warrant a stay of execution."

The courtroom buzzed with excitement over the verdict, including one or two strong remarks suggesting that it would be much better to put Jack to death on the spot and then investigate the other allegations. Jack looked up at the various witnesses who had spoken against him; the Kuldaths glowed with triumph, the Master Crafter Randall Morran seemed disappointed, the commoners ranged from whoops of glee to smug nods of satisfaction. The bailiff and the guards escorted Jack out of the room and back to a holding cell in another part of the castle, hooding him again.

He found himself sitting on a hard wooden bench in a small wagon, doubtless locked and barred and enchanted against any possible escape, with a pair of guards sharing the cramped space.

"So it's back to Ill-Water?" Jack asked through the hood.

"Silence," one guard grated.

Jack shrugged as best he could given his bonds. The wagon trundled off over the cobblestones, rattling and swaying. He listened closely for any signs of business or activity in the city; the roads from Ravendark Castle to the boat landings wound through the busiest parts of Raven's Bluff, and he strained for the sounds of conversation and commerce from the streets beyond the wagon's walls. He heard nothing but the creaking of the wheels.

After a surprisingly short ride, the wagon halted. The door squeaked open, and the two guards climbed out, the wagon shifting with their weight. Someone else climbed in and sat beside him; a soft feminine hand grasped his.