ARCHER GLANCED UP AT CHIEF JUSTICE MICHAEL THE Archelion and smiled nervously. Then, he glared at Razz. “Wh—what are you doing here?”
Razz frowned. “I already explained,” she said. “The Waking World is hanging in the balance, so Master Gabriel sent me to help. Sorry I’m late.”
“We are all well aware of humanity’s plight, Dream creature,” the judge said, a bemused tone in his voice. “But I am curious as to why you believe you are late to an event that you’ve not been invited to join.”
Somehow, Archer knew that beneath the fur Razz’s cheeks were reddening like mad. Seemingly undaunted, Razz gave a little bow and said, “Actually, your high justice-ness, I am Archer’s co-counsel. Or co-defender, if you prefer. Co-protector? No? Co-keep-Archer-out-of-jail-ish, uh, person . . .”
The judge’s stern glare closed Razz’s mouth, and he turned to Archer. “Dreamtreader Keaton, do you wish Miss Moonsonnet to assist your defense?”
“He knows my name,” Razz whispered under her breath. “I’m a rock star.”
Oh, brother,Archer thought. And though he thought it was likely a mistake, Archer was so happy not to be in this magnificent courtroom alone that he said, “Yes, your honor, um . . . Razz will help represent me.”
Sinusy snickers came from across the aisle. Archer glared at Bezeal, who seemed to think Razz’s assistance was quite amusing.
“And, Bezeal,” the judge barked, causing the merchant’s Cheshire grin to disappear, “it has been some time since we’ve seen your hooded countenance in this court, though there has been no shortage of your associate prosecutors. This case must be of particular interest for you to come yourself.”
If Bezeal had looked uncomfortable before, Archer thought he looked positively beside himself now. He squirmed in his seat, and his glowing eyes shrank to pinpricks. “Your honor,” he squawked, “the Dream was my world, my livelihood, and my home. Until the Dreamtreaders came there to search, meddle, and roam. I came to seek justice beneath this court’s dome.”
The judge tented his fingers, and his armor flashed brilliant light. “You may have a case,” he said, “but let’s get one thing straight, Bezeal. No rhymes.”
“But—”
“Enough!” the chief justice thundered. “You will not make a mockery of my court with your inane singsong banter. Have I made myself clear?”
Bezeal’s eyes flashed. “All too clear,” he said, “and I fear—”
“Bezeal,” the judge warned, “one more rhyme from you, and I’ll hold you in contempt of court!”
Bezeal blinked. “But . . . sir—”
Chief Justice Michael leaned forward. “How do ten days cleaning Gloriana Stables sound to you? I understand the unicorns have been particularly well fed of late.”
Archer suppressed the laughter he felt bubbling up inside and silently enjoyed watching Bezeal squirm.
“That will not be necessary, your honor,” Bezeal muttered.
“Good,” the judge said. “Now, do you as prosecutor have an opening statement?”
Bezeal slid off of the chair and waddled out into the open well of the court, a span that stretched between the two galleries. “Yes,” Bezeal said, “if it pleases the court, your honor, the prosecution will speak.”
“Much better,” the judge said. “Go on.”
Bezeal strolled along the rail that enclosed the right side gallery. “A perfect balance,” he said to the soldiers seated there. “The Dream and the Waking World coexisted in a peaceful balance for many ages, until now. I intend to prove that a Dreamtreader, one sworn to protect that balance, did in fact cause its destruction; that this Dreamtreader, Archer Keaton, through his action and inaction did cause the Rift. I will show the court Archer’s willful disobedience for the commands of his superiors. I will show Archer’s careless use of excessive power, a traitorous act that led to the deaths of Dreamtreaders Duncan and Mesmeera.”
The galleries erupted in gasps and hurried comments.
“Objection!” Razz shouted, spinning in the air above Archer’s head and slapping her two tails together.
“It is an opening statement,” hissed Bezeal. “You cannot object.”
“It is unusual,” the judge corrected, “but legal. To what do you object, Ms. Moonsonnet?”
Razz gave a half bow. “I object because Bezeal called Archer a traitor. That’s totally not true.”
Archer reached up and yanked Razz’s tail. “C’mere!” he said. “That’s not helping.”
“Ms. Moonsonnet,” the judge said, “the prosecution has a right to state the nature of the crime he intends to prove. Your objection is overruled.”
“Fiddlesticks,” Razz mumbled. Archer quickly covered her mouth with his hand.
“I repeat,” Bezeal went on, “that Archer Keaton misused his Dreamtreader powers, betraying the other Dreamtreaders to their deaths. Without the considerable experience of Dreamtreaders Duncan and Mesmeera, the Rift became all but inevitable. Finally, I will prove that Archer, in the face of the Rift, took out his anger by plotting to murder a defenseless human being.”
Razz squirmed free. “Objection!” she shouted. The judge turned her way. “Archer didn’t kill that old Doc Scoville!”
“Objection overruled,” the judge replied curtly. “The prosecutor asserts only that Archer plotted to murder.”
“Your honor,” Bezeal said, “may I continue?”
“Go on.”
“Esteemed court, I will prove that Archer Keaton, a once promising Dreamtreading talent, has been derelict in his duties. From his earliest conflicts with the Nightmare Lord to his mishandling of the Shadow Key even to his most recent negligence leading to the Rift, Archer Keaton has failed . . . failed us all. He is guilty of all these charges. And I will show why he should be removed from Dreamtreading permanently and locked away for good.”