I never planned to step foot inside Tribunal Hall again. I could have used a hologram, or Claire would have gone for me—there were a hundred other options. But Aurik said my presence today might help to stem the tide of violent demonstrations happening around the world over Savannah.
And I would do anything for Savannah.
Aurik sent his fastest transport for me. What a beautiful sight it should have been plummeting from the heights of Angel’s Communion down toward Tribunal Hall, the expanse of my homeland sprawled out below. But the beauty of the scenery was irreparably marred by the angry crowds coalescing around the great building.
Not that the mobs mattered to me. The whole planet could be imploding, and I wouldn’t care in the least. I only concentrated on what Zio had said an hour ago.
Cautiously optimistic. He was cautiously optimistic that the tumors had been eradicated.
We’d watched together as the small silver vial drained into Savannah over the course of the most frightening day of my life. And as the vial emptied, the tumors shrank and started to disappear.
A miracle, Zio had said.
The most terrifying moment came when the little vial finally ran dry. Would the tumors return? If they did, there was nothing left for us to do.
The last drop fell.
Nothing happened.
Nothing grew.
As a result, Zio was cautiously optimistic the vial’s contents had done its job. Of course, that didn’t stop him from warning me that even though the tumors were gone, it didn’t mean Savannah would survive. After so much trauma, he didn’t know how her body could continue to function. But the small glimmer of hope in his eye was enough to keep me breathing from one second to the next.
The hall was almost completely empty inside. Only the remnants of the Tribunal and select media were allowed inside today. I tried to quiet my footsteps, but the sound of my boots on the white marble reverberated off the vaulted ceilings. Even the protestors outside weren’t loud enough to make my entrance any quieter.
Everyone inside, including the small knot of reporters on the floor, turned in unison to watch me make the never-ending walk up to the podium. A flock of flying cameras descended on me like a swarm of locusts and followed closely as I walked. I hadn’t missed this at all while I had been on Earth.
Most of the Tribunal seats stood ominously empty. Only ten men and women still sat in their usual places with an ember of Holy Fire lit by their side—the only members whom Gideon hadn’t marked. The rest of the Tribunal, the usual occupants of the empty chairs, were cloistered in the wings, waiting for the trial to begin.
Aurik called me forward with a wave. The rest of the Tribunal did not look as welcoming. They’d obviously been arguing about me long before I arrived at the hall.
“Ryen of the Haven, welcome! Thank you for coming. I know this isn’t the easiest time to pull you away from your … responsibilities,” he said sympathetically.
“I can’t stay long. I don’t want to be away if—” I started. He nodded sympathetically.
“Of course. We’ll be quick. But before we begin the proceedings, I want to publicly thank you and Savannah of the Haven for saving my life. While the whole of Zhimeya may not agree,” he said, staring into each of the small cameras that buzzed around him, “we all owe you both a great debt of gratitude for bringing so many traitors to justice.”
“If you please.” Saylo of the Harlis tribe stood up from his Tribunal seat, with a little trouble. The giant was big enough to occupy two seats.
“Be careful, Saylo,” Aurik warned quietly.
“Excuse me, Aurik, but everyone knows Ryen was close to the Masters. Gideon was his personal mentor for years! I refuse to give over my trust to him as readily as you are.”
“There was a time when Gideon and I were close,” I said before Aurik could censure him. “But he never trusted me like he did those he named to be Masters. I never knew his more clandestine plans. And I’ve been checked several times for Gideon’s mark.”
“So you don’t have the mark. That doesn’t prove anything.”
“What about the fact that he almost killed me, right over there?” I asked, pointing to the spot where Gideon tried to run me through just a stone’s throw away. “You remember. You were sitting right there when it happened.”
“Maybe Gideon didn’t trust you, fine. But maybe Dai did. You two are probably still in contact. I’d wager you know exactly where he is hiding since you are the one who let him escape—”
“I let him escape in exchange for Savannah’s life!” I growled.
“Oh yes, that’s right. You let a murderer escape to save a human. Another reason you don’t deserve my tribe’s trust,” he yelled.
“I’m not here asking for your tribe’s trust! I’m not on trial!” I yelled.
“Enough, Saylo!” Aurik barked. “Ryen is not here to defend himself. I made that very clear before he arrived. Ryen, the Tribunal apologizes.”
Saylo sat, his chair groaning dangerously beneath him. Sweat poured down his bloated face, ruining the tribal symbols painted on his forehead.
“Preposterous,” Saylo whispered loudly to the member seated next to him. “He still defends saving the savage over bringing a guilty man to justice!”
“Savage? Why don’t you come to Healing Tower to see what our superior society has done to an innocent girl! Don’t you dare speak of your prejudices about humans in front of me! You know nothing of them!” I shouted.
“See? See? He defends the vermin that pollute the holy planet!” Saylo sputtered. “You tried to stay there to become one of them! Maybe you should be on trial!”
“Enough!” Aurik cried, staring the corpulent giant down. Saylo hissed but didn’t speak again. I was seething, holding onto the podium with both hands to keep from crossing the small space and smashing in Saylo’s swollen, purple face.
“Again, the Tribunal apologizes Ryen. I’ll take over the questioning,” Aurik said, his eyes still trained on Saylo. “As you know, when Earth researchers return, they traditionally have an audience with the Tribunal. We’d like to keep some semblance of normalcy, though these times are anything but normal. May I ask you a few questions about your time there?”
“Yes,” I said as patiently as I could manage.
“You spent two years researching, watching, and listening. Did you find the evidence you were seeking?”
“No. I don’t think what we are looking for exists,” I admitted tiredly.
Aurik studied me carefully for a few moments. “As disappointing as that is, I think I am starting to believe that you are right,” he said sadly.
“This is ridiculous,” Kosma, leader of the Falizia tribe, piped up. It was hard to look at her straight on because of the glare coming off of the hundreds of delicate chains woven through her skin like metallic thread. The red-plumed bird that sat on her shoulder pulled softly at the strands when the light made them flash.
Kosma, like so many others, believed the evidence we were seeking was waiting to be discovered. She had always condemned researchers for not using more subversive tactics to get information out of humans. I’d been very surprised to find that she hadn’t sold her vote to Gideon.
“You’ve lost your faith in Earth research, Aurik, but I haven’t. You think over time our people will find other ways to come together again. They won’t. Not with the torbillium shortages and all the problems it is causing.”
“Kosma, please. Let Ryen speak,” Aurik said tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and letting his fatigued eyes shut momentarily.
“Like I said, I don’t think the evidence we are looking for exists.” I remembered back to the starry night, sitting with Savannah on top of the Mayan temple, and repeated the words she had said to me exactly. “I think God lets us go without concrete proof so that we can choose which path to take. If we all had proof, there would be no choice. God gave us our lives to do what we will with it.” I had pondered over those words so often, they were easy to repeat from memory, especially since I believed them. “Zhimeya needs to find a way to unite again, but maybe not under the banner of religion. Our people should be free to believe as they choose. If I had found the evidence I was seeking, the Tribunal would have forced everyone into the same belief. Governments shouldn’t take away our right to choose.”
“Is this what you decided when you were on Earth, Ryen? Before or after you tried to defect?”
“Kosma!” Aurik reprimanded.
“You would want to see our proud people devolve into warring factions with thousands of different languages, borders, and religions. I’m sorry, but I have no interest in my people becoming anything like the human race,” Kosma retorted.
“Would you take away our freedom to choose? Would this world be better if we all were forced into believing the same thing?”
“If it would do away with outliers like yourself, maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible,” she answered. The bird perched on her shoulder screeched loudly at me, sensing his owner’s infuriation.
“You can’t be serious, Kosma,” I sputtered.
“Aurik,” she continued, “I didn’t come here to argue with a child. We all know you are thinking about shutting down the Master’s Institute,” she said. “Which would, of course, bring an end to Earth research.”
“Is that true?” I asked, turning my attention to Aurik.
“Well, Ryen, the Tribunal wanted your opinion on that, as well,” Aurik said. “The Tribunal is exploring our options as it pertains to the Institute. It is full of bright, young students studying Earth and religion, just as you remember it. But, in light of these recent events, I honestly don’t know what to do with it. What would you recommend?”
Savannah’s body, broken possibly beyond repair, came to the forefront of my mind. If we had never touched down on Earth, she would never have been harmed. She would be safe, whole, and perfectly unaware of my existence. I wanted to tell him to burn the Institute to the ground. I’d do it myself if he would give me permission, fuel, and a match.
But I couldn’t blame Savannah’s present state on anyone but myself. Her life teetering on the brink between this world and the next was my fault—not the Institute’s, not even Gideon’s.
“Let me be clear. I don’t care what the Tribunal chooses to do with the Institute—”
“I don’t believe that, Ryen,” Aurik interjected patiently.
“Please, let me finish. A lot of good has come from the Institute. But we cannot ignore what Gideon did there. He plotted an overthrow of the government, he poured funding into making deadly weapons, and he corrupted some of our brightest minds into doing his bidding. I don’t know how the Institute will ever be respected after what has happened. It would take so much work!”
“It would take a great deal of work. But I think you are up to it,” he grinned.
“Me?” I asked, confused.
“You can’t be serious, Aurik!” Kosma cried out.
“I am very serious. The Institute needs a new leader, Ryen. I think you would be perfect for the job.”
“Please don’t ask that of me,” I begged. Aurik didn’t know what I planned to do with myself if Savannah didn’t survive.
“Ryen,” he censured, “I must remind you that your people have dedicated a great deal of resources toward your training and mission. You are heavily in their debt. You and your team have a responsibility to teach the rising generation about what you have seen and learned. Tell me you will at least think about it.”
“And if the human, Sa-van-nah,” Leal of the Alix stumbled through her name, “survives, she would be invaluable at the Institute, as well.”
“What? The human cannot stay here!” Saylo shouted. Leal, her skin already dyed a delicate shade of petal pink, flushed an angry magenta under Saylo’s glare.
“And why is that?” Leal asked. “Our people brought her here. She’s been claimed to a tribe. She should be allowed to stay if she wishes.”
“Aurik, the human must be sent back to Earth immediately!” Saylo shouted.
“I wouldn’t worry, Saylo,” Kosma whispered. “The human will be dead before the moons rise.”
The scene around me swam. A red haze of rage clouded my vision. I couldn’t even find my tongue to spit out the curses fast enough.
“One more word, Kosma, and I will revoke your seat in the Tribunal,” Aurik promised, his amber eyes flashing hard in warning. She narrowed her gray eyes to slits but held her tongue. I stood perfectly still, my hands gripping the podium with all my might. If I let go now, it would be Kosma who would be dead before the moons rose.
“If I were Savannah, I would want to leave immediately after all that has happened to her by our hand. But I do think the only fair thing would be to give her the option of staying,” Aurik said more calmly.
“We would have to put it to a vote, Aurik. You can’t make that decision on your own,” Ordin of the Shae called over the nine other Tribunal members arguing with each other.
I’d had enough.
“Aurik, can I go, please?” I pleaded.
“Just one more thing, I promise.” Aurik motioned to his guards, and the side doors opened. In marched hundreds of people flanked by Uja, their spindly legs clacking and echoing against the polished floor. It was a staggering sight, especially since most of the prisoners were former Tribunal members. Each prisoner wore a sackcloth tunic, their wrists bound together with magnetized cuffs. Many glanced nervously behind them, out the back window of the hall at the peaks of Black Castle, which somehow looked closer today than usual.
I tried not to make eye contact with the traitors, especially Oshun and Ecko, who looked too much like Emani for me to bear.
The most shocking sight was the glass case wheeled in and set in front of the traitors. Gideon’s decaying remains were on trial with the rest of them. Aurik watched over his nephew’s body sadly.
Thankfully, they hadn’t been able to find Emani’s body down in the twisting underground tunnels. If my mind hadn’t been so overwrought, I might have wondered about that. I might have thought back to the moment not so long ago when Dai had brought the holographic Aurik into Tribunal Hall and that split-second I thought I had seen Emani standing at the doorway. I may have wondered if it were possible that she had somehow survived, though I had watched her die in my arms. But at the moment, my mind was too full for such considerations.
When the traitors had been lined up across the Tribunal floor, Aurik turned his somber eyes away from Gideon to face them.
“This is indeed a dark day, the single largest trial in our history. We do not take our duty lightly. This trial will take some time. Ryen of the Haven, as the man who brought Gideon’s plans to light, what say you to the traitors who wear Gideon’s mark?”
“I have nothing to say to those who sold their souls to Gideon. Justice has found them. But I do have something to say to the Tribunal. Gideon’s mark on the traitors’ skin means nothing. Gideon’s map is your most important piece of evidence. Healer Lais, whom Dai kidnapped, and even Savannah of the Haven were both marked against their will.”
Zio had found Savannah’s mark during the long hours we sat next to her unconscious body. “It’s possible that some of our brothers and sisters were marked against their will, as well.”
“But what do you think about—” Aurik started.
Ruel, captain of the guard, ran into the hall from a side door and whispered something in Aurik’s ear. Aurik spoke urgently now. “Ryen, you are wanted at Healing Tower. Go!”
Without another word, without another thought, I turned and ran from the hall, but not before hearing Kosma’s ecstatic cackle.
“The human is dead!”