The Trial of the Infiltrators
Jun. 30th, 2016 04:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonmagitechThe chamber entrance was mostly surrounded by delicate carvings, complex patterns with the occasional figure hidden within, curling up and over the door and decreasing in detail until they stopped halfway down the right side. Such was the nature of older parts of the lair. Maybe one day they’d find someone to finish it.
The chamber itself was large but not very tall, perfectly fine for the lawyers but difficult for, say, a Guardian. Splitt lay stretched out against the back wall, glowering. The lawyers themselves coiled on the dais in the middle of the room, Milltall sprawling across most of it with her tail spilling over the side while Serrowin shifted position a dozen times or more.
A few rows of dragons had squeezed into the benches that circled the dais. Hennebry could be seen in the front row, taking notes and fiddling with her glasses.
Natalya walked along the aisle between the benches, flanked by Ion and her team; Marth hadn’t been willing to trust the lower-ranking guards to escort her, given her overpowering of Marcus. She glanced to either side, noticing how they all stared at her, and straightened up a bit, shifting her wings to make herself appear larger. She would not be cowed, not again.
Her mate hadn’t been required to come to the trial, such as it was, being that he was incapacitated with Sparkspell’s pain-blocking magic; Gandrous had explained apologetically that the clan was without a healer at the moment and this was all they could do until judgment was passed. She wasn’t quite sure of the correlation, but he sounded so honestly concerned she’d just thanked him and not pressed for information.
The guards stopped her a meter from the dais. She found herself staring into four green eyes, as the lawyers looked her over.
“She’s very pretty,” said Serrowin.
Milltall drew up her head and flared her wings a little, mirroring Natalya in an attempt to intimidate her, a tactic she’d encountered before. The Imperial sniffed disdainfully and said, “Natalya, isn’t it?”
She inclined her head.
“You stand accused of a serious crime.”
“Some not-so-serious crimes, also,” added Serrowin. “The engineers aren’t too happy with you—well, it’s hard to tell with Klaus, but Serenade certainly isn’t. If we can’t get you on infiltration you’ll probably get slammed for interfering with the life support. Lucky for you that’s a much shorter sentence.”
“Infiltration isn’t a very specific charge,” said Natalya. “Shouldn’t it be my intent you’re punishing me for?”
“We have to know your intent in order to punish you for it,” said Serrowin, “and you didn’t tell us. Makes it more difficult.”
“Why did you enter our lower tunnels?” Milltall said. Natalya thought Serrowin might have done something to her voice; it was booming even for an Imperial, the kind of thing more easily done with Wind magic than Nature and therefore not Milltall’s own work.
She felt eyes on her, more intensely than before, and turned. Hennebry was watching her carefully. A problem, that. Lying outright would undoubtedly produce a change in her body temperature, not a significant amount, but enough to be noticed by those who could see that sort of thing. A partial truth, maybe, one that would do no harm.
“We were traveling,” she said. “We were looking for our own place, away from our respective clans. We found them stifling. A patrol of harpies came on us further south in the canyon, and they injured Bellwether, and your tunnels happened to be nearby.” She sighed. “There were more monsters in the tunnels—”
“Watch yerself,” said a voice from behind her. She had no idea who it was, but under the circumstances it seemed best to tread carefully.
“There were monsters in the tunnels,” she tried, and when no comments were forthcoming continued, “and it took us some time to find a safe place. I disabled the pump so Bellwether would have somewhere safe to wait while I tried to find help—that part I told your engineers. I hoped there might be a clan nearby.” She smiled as much as her face allowed. “I was right.”
There was a long moment, and she worried she might not have convinced them, a moment where Serrowin stared into her face and seemed to read something there. But the moment passed, and the Spiral nodded to Milltall, and Milltall said, “Very well.”
“Life-support interference it is, then,” said Serrowin. “You’ll be in the cell for around a week, up by Sugarspun, but don’t worry. Thorn’s a pretty nice guard, tends to bring up extra food portions. And after that you and your mate are free to do as you like. If you decide to stay on do send a message to Agatha, though, otherwise she’ll be very annoyed.”
It seemed that was that. Natalya tried to keep the relief from showing in her posture.
The Dapperclaws, as she’d heard them called, escorted her into the hallway, where she was handed off to Thorn; the Guardian was accompanied by a small pink Skydancer with a chain badly hidden under his scarf. As they walked up toward the cells, the Skydancer turned to her.
“I̹̖̭͉̙͔͉̕'̙̠͍̀m̨̘͙̥̩̜̹ͅ ҉im̢̪̠̣̠̙p̫͈r̰̗̳̯̼̤ẹ̩̱̰s͕̠͔͙̼̣̺s̜̗̰̮̫e̘͎̬͎̳̺ͅd,̛” he murmured, in a chorus of voices. “Y̡̫͙̬͍͔̤o̺͎̞͓̦̫ù͎ ̤̗m̙̙͓̺̲̀u̫͓̪̭st͓̰ ̤͉̩̹̻͖ḥ̟̰a̯̫͍̬v͇͕̗̱e͍̺͚̹̣͡ ̭̘͝do̭̦n͓̣̱̱ͅe̘͙̭̥̩̙ ̶̰͚̤̱̦t̵̺̙͕̦͓h͈̙̲͙̱̭͟i͡s̡̮̤̻ ̶̲̥̲̫͎̗b͉͇̳͝e͔f̜̠̱͓̥͘o͈̥r̖͕̤e̤͉.͇͖̫̪̘”
She said, “What do you—”
“O͍͔̞͞ͅh͕͎͓́,̧̭͎̝̘͚̣͍ ̡̳̦͙̰͔I̜ ̗͝k͏̰̲ńo̙̠͎͉̖w̶̝͖͍̮͚̬̣ ̲͙͇͚̘̣͙͜b̜̼̻̭e͍̬͈t̟͓͚̲̠͎̤ṱe͓̗̖̮ṟ̘͖̩̹͍ͅ ̨̗̬̪̩̖t̬̟͈̟̥͡ͅh̴̠̟̮̠̖̫̼a̼n̰̼̱̤ t҉h͉a͙̩͕͈t̨̙̙̟̺.͕͜ ͓̙̮͓͈̗̀W͍̮̺͇o̤̲͜r̝͚̞̫r̠̺̳̞͕͚ͅy̹̰̰͎ ̯͡n̲͟o̳͜t̡͙̤̳̳̣̗.̢̺̣̩̫͈̙͔ ̘̘̺͙́I̜̱̥͕͘ ̳͔̹͜w̩̫͢i͝l͍͙̻l͕ ̴̭̙̳̙k͚͉̫̱͓e̢̜e̡̱̜p̩ ҉̬̝y̟̙o͔̱̳u̜̗̭̩̺͍̱ŗ̗̙͖̖ ̲̭̣̺̣̮s̹̟e͎͚͔͇c͏̣̱̗̻̠r̴̩̞̦̻̘̥̻e̺͚̱̥͢t̲͔̹̭̰̹͎.̫̹͉̜̮͈”
He refused to speak for the rest of the climb, no matter how she cajoled him.
The chamber itself was large but not very tall, perfectly fine for the lawyers but difficult for, say, a Guardian. Splitt lay stretched out against the back wall, glowering. The lawyers themselves coiled on the dais in the middle of the room, Milltall sprawling across most of it with her tail spilling over the side while Serrowin shifted position a dozen times or more.
A few rows of dragons had squeezed into the benches that circled the dais. Hennebry could be seen in the front row, taking notes and fiddling with her glasses.
Natalya walked along the aisle between the benches, flanked by Ion and her team; Marth hadn’t been willing to trust the lower-ranking guards to escort her, given her overpowering of Marcus. She glanced to either side, noticing how they all stared at her, and straightened up a bit, shifting her wings to make herself appear larger. She would not be cowed, not again.
Her mate hadn’t been required to come to the trial, such as it was, being that he was incapacitated with Sparkspell’s pain-blocking magic; Gandrous had explained apologetically that the clan was without a healer at the moment and this was all they could do until judgment was passed. She wasn’t quite sure of the correlation, but he sounded so honestly concerned she’d just thanked him and not pressed for information.
The guards stopped her a meter from the dais. She found herself staring into four green eyes, as the lawyers looked her over.
“She’s very pretty,” said Serrowin.
Milltall drew up her head and flared her wings a little, mirroring Natalya in an attempt to intimidate her, a tactic she’d encountered before. The Imperial sniffed disdainfully and said, “Natalya, isn’t it?”
She inclined her head.
“You stand accused of a serious crime.”
“Some not-so-serious crimes, also,” added Serrowin. “The engineers aren’t too happy with you—well, it’s hard to tell with Klaus, but Serenade certainly isn’t. If we can’t get you on infiltration you’ll probably get slammed for interfering with the life support. Lucky for you that’s a much shorter sentence.”
“Infiltration isn’t a very specific charge,” said Natalya. “Shouldn’t it be my intent you’re punishing me for?”
“We have to know your intent in order to punish you for it,” said Serrowin, “and you didn’t tell us. Makes it more difficult.”
“Why did you enter our lower tunnels?” Milltall said. Natalya thought Serrowin might have done something to her voice; it was booming even for an Imperial, the kind of thing more easily done with Wind magic than Nature and therefore not Milltall’s own work.
She felt eyes on her, more intensely than before, and turned. Hennebry was watching her carefully. A problem, that. Lying outright would undoubtedly produce a change in her body temperature, not a significant amount, but enough to be noticed by those who could see that sort of thing. A partial truth, maybe, one that would do no harm.
“We were traveling,” she said. “We were looking for our own place, away from our respective clans. We found them stifling. A patrol of harpies came on us further south in the canyon, and they injured Bellwether, and your tunnels happened to be nearby.” She sighed. “There were more monsters in the tunnels—”
“Watch yerself,” said a voice from behind her. She had no idea who it was, but under the circumstances it seemed best to tread carefully.
“There were monsters in the tunnels,” she tried, and when no comments were forthcoming continued, “and it took us some time to find a safe place. I disabled the pump so Bellwether would have somewhere safe to wait while I tried to find help—that part I told your engineers. I hoped there might be a clan nearby.” She smiled as much as her face allowed. “I was right.”
There was a long moment, and she worried she might not have convinced them, a moment where Serrowin stared into her face and seemed to read something there. But the moment passed, and the Spiral nodded to Milltall, and Milltall said, “Very well.”
“Life-support interference it is, then,” said Serrowin. “You’ll be in the cell for around a week, up by Sugarspun, but don’t worry. Thorn’s a pretty nice guard, tends to bring up extra food portions. And after that you and your mate are free to do as you like. If you decide to stay on do send a message to Agatha, though, otherwise she’ll be very annoyed.”
It seemed that was that. Natalya tried to keep the relief from showing in her posture.
The Dapperclaws, as she’d heard them called, escorted her into the hallway, where she was handed off to Thorn; the Guardian was accompanied by a small pink Skydancer with a chain badly hidden under his scarf. As they walked up toward the cells, the Skydancer turned to her.
“I̹̖̭͉̙͔͉̕'̙̠͍̀m̨̘͙̥̩̜̹ͅ ҉im̢̪̠̣̠̙p̫͈r̰̗̳̯̼̤ẹ̩̱̰s͕̠͔͙̼̣̺s̜̗̰̮̫e̘͎̬͎̳̺ͅd,̛” he murmured, in a chorus of voices. “Y̡̫͙̬͍͔̤o̺͎̞͓̦̫ù͎ ̤̗m̙̙͓̺̲̀u̫͓̪̭st͓̰ ̤͉̩̹̻͖ḥ̟̰a̯̫͍̬v͇͕̗̱e͍̺͚̹̣͡ ̭̘͝do̭̦n͓̣̱̱ͅe̘͙̭̥̩̙ ̶̰͚̤̱̦t̵̺̙͕̦͓h͈̙̲͙̱̭͟i͡s̡̮̤̻ ̶̲̥̲̫͎̗b͉͇̳͝e͔f̜̠̱͓̥͘o͈̥r̖͕̤e̤͉.͇͖̫̪̘”
She said, “What do you—”
“O͍͔̞͞ͅh͕͎͓́,̧̭͎̝̘͚̣͍ ̡̳̦͙̰͔I̜ ̗͝k͏̰̲ńo̙̠͎͉̖w̶̝͖͍̮͚̬̣ ̲͙͇͚̘̣͙͜b̜̼̻̭e͍̬͈t̟͓͚̲̠͎̤ṱe͓̗̖̮ṟ̘͖̩̹͍ͅ ̨̗̬̪̩̖t̬̟͈̟̥͡ͅh̴̠̟̮̠̖̫̼a̼n̰̼̱̤ t҉h͉a͙̩͕͈t̨̙̙̟̺.͕͜ ͓̙̮͓͈̗̀W͍̮̺͇o̤̲͜r̝͚̞̫r̠̺̳̞͕͚ͅy̹̰̰͎ ̯͡n̲͟o̳͜t̡͙̤̳̳̣̗.̢̺̣̩̫͈̙͔ ̘̘̺͙́I̜̱̥͕͘ ̳͔̹͜w̩̫͢i͝l͍͙̻l͕ ̴̭̙̳̙k͚͉̫̱͓e̢̜e̡̱̜p̩ ҉̬̝y̟̙o͔̱̳u̜̗̭̩̺͍̱ŗ̗̙͖̖ ̲̭̣̺̣̮s̹̟e͎͚͔͇c͏̣̱̗̻̠r̴̩̞̦̻̘̥̻e̺͚̱̥͢t̲͔̹̭̰̹͎.̫̹͉̜̮͈”
He refused to speak for the rest of the climb, no matter how she cajoled him.
