Chapter 5
I felt completely lost. I had come all the way from Ton DC to Polis. I had ridden for several hours on the biggest horse I had ever been on. I had crossed the Dragon Pit, passing six monsters capable of swallowing a teen in a single gulp. I was tired and sore and frightened. And all of that because Ontari had said that my mother needed me.
"You said... she said... she said that you'd said..." My throat stopped working. I was on the verge of tears. But my mother was no longer watching me. She was staring at Ontari as if she meant to burn a hole in her.
"What is the meaning of this?" Her voice was so cold that the frost on it was nearly visible.
"I thought we might talk about the terrible crimes of Prisa Alexandria. Again."
"I have told you: she didn't do it."
"How can you be so certain? Maybe the Soul Seer ought to speak to her one more time."
"What good would that do? I was with her for hours. I have seen every shameful secret in her soul. She has her flaws. Human flaws. But this... this inhuman deed she has not done. I swear it, by my word as Soul Seer. Find me another suspect and I'll see what I can do. But if you have no other possible killer, let me go home. My children have already waited far too long."
"Prisa Alexandria was found with the dagger in her hand and the blood of the victims on her hands and clothes. She may have done it in a drunken rage; she may have been barely herself at the time. But most certainly, she did it. She did it, though she may not remember doing it."
"She did not do it. There would have been marks on her soul, and there were none."
"Surely such marks may yet appear?"
My mother stood silent for a moment, straight and edged like a spear. "And what exactly does Domina Ontari mean by that?" Her voice was clear as glass and just as sharp. If Ernie had heard that tone of voice, he would have hidden under the bed, whimpering.
"Domella Griffin. All the evidence points to her. She claims to remember nothing, but I think the Soul Seer can make her recall her guilt."
"Not if she is innocent."
"An old man. A nine-year-old boy. A woman and her unborn child. Four lives, Domella. Is it so strange that she clings to forgetfulness?"
"Prisa Alexandria cannot be brought to remember something she has not done." My mother still had not moved, but her voice was less crystalline.
"I was there for the arrest, Domella. Shall I tell you what the Regina's bedroom looked like? Shall I tell you how many times she had been stabbed, and where? She used to be so beautiful, Domella. But not anymore."
"Guard your tongue, Domina," said my mother, angry and outraged. "The child..." She waved a hand in my direction.
"Domella is right, it is no tale for children. But she was my cousin's wife. And her child had to do more than merely listen. Nine years old. It will be very, very hard for me to forget this. And I want" - her voice went hoarse with passion - "I want that monster to remember what she has done. Is that too much to ask of justice?"
"But I tell you-"
"Yes, I've heard. But if the Soul Seer is really so very certain of her judgment... then surely there can be no harm in letting the Soul Seer's daughter spend the night in the monster's cell. Pardon me. In the cell of this innocent young woman." The word came out dripping with acid, as if she could barely make herself pronounce it.
My mother took an involuntary step forward, putting herself between me and Ontari. "Is that why..."
"That is why I fetched her, yes. It is so easy to judge among strangers, isn't it? Guilty or innocent, it doesn't really touch you. All right. Let her out of her cage, if you are so certain of her innocence. But first, leave your daughter with her for one night."
"So you would use a child-"
"She is a young woman, and far older than my nephew had the chance to be." She turned away from her. "Think it over for a while," she said, moving toward the door. "I will return to hear your answer in an hour's time."
"Wait!" She caught hold of Ontari's arm, turning her to face her. "Are you not ashamed -," she began. And the look was that look, and the voice that voice, the one that made thieves and murderers cringe with guilt and ask for a well-deserved punishment. But Ontari met her gaze without flinching.
"No," she said firmly. "I am not ashamed in the least."