⤠ ≻ ◈ ≺ ⤟

Freezing air and murmuring voices woke Clementine from his sleep. Dread consumed his heart as he opened his eyes to darkness. Anguished voices echoed around him, and as he lay there, his body started to tremble. Someone was dead.

          He looked around for Sebastien but he wasn't in his room. Where was he? Was it him? Where was Elliot? Mathew? Mavis? Had it been one of them? Or...could it have been Ian?

          With a grunt and a groan, he sat up. But his sudden movements aggravated his sore body; suffocating nausea hit him, his throat started to burn, and his head began spinning. He tried his best to control it, holding his eyes shut, taking deep breaths...but he was going to throw up.

          As swiftly as his aching body would let him, he got out of bed, rushed to his bathroom, and reached the toilet just in time to hurl. The moment he vomited, his body convulsed, pain surged through his head, and he felt as though he was throwing up his insides. Each retch pulsated agony through his body, and on his fourth heave, he groaned in distress and grimaced, trying to bear it. And to his relief...it was over.

          He stared down at the black bile he'd hurled into the toilet; it was a sight he had hoped he wouldn't see until the last month or two of his decline. But there it was...blacker than night, sending shivers of trepidation through his trembling body. 

          But then—

          "All students, please proceed to the trial hall. All students, please proceed to the trial hall," the gramophones outside blurted.

          Trial hall? Who had been discovered? More importantly...who had discovered them?

          Clementine scowled as he slowly made his way back over to his bed, both angst and anger consuming him. Could Sebastien have been a complete idiot and gone to the professors with their discoveries? Had he told them that it had most likely been Ian that had poisoned the cocoa—that he had used basilisk venom? He sorely hoped not, but it sounded like something Sebastien would do. After all, his whole reason for forming a deal with him in the first place was because he wanted clout, right? So why would he miss an opportunity like this?

          Footsteps echoed through the whispers as he sat on his bed. The sound of an opening door, frantic whispers...and as his bedroom door opened, Elliot, Mathew, and Mavis burst in.

          "Oh, thank God," Elliot breathed, moving closer to Clementine's bed. "We thought...we thought it was you."

          "Where's Sebastien?" he questioned.

          "We...thought he was with you," Mavis said.

          He shook his head. "He left to look for something."

          "All students, please proceed to the trial hall. All students, please proceed to the trial hall," the gramophones repeated.

          Despite his aching body and the fact he'd just been sick, Clementine wanted to know what was going on. "Come on," he said, shuffling to the end of his bed.

          "I don't think that is a good idea, Clementine," Mathew said in worry, moving closer to him.

          But Clementine waved his hand in dismissal and placed his feet on the floor. "I'm fine," he insisted, and as he heaved himself out of bed, Elliot carefully gripped his arm and helped him.

          "Are you sure you should be getting out of bed, Clementine?" Elliot asked in worry.

          Once he was on his feet, he pulled his arm from Elliot's grip. He stumbled forward a little but quickly found his balance. Then, he looked at his allies' concerned faces and nodded. "I'm fine, guys," he told them firmly, and as he looked down at his hands, he sighed quietly. "Could you give me a few moments to get ready, please?"

          "O-oh, of course," Mavis said.

          Mathew nodded, and as Mavis headed out of the bedroom, he and Elliot followed.

          Clementine didn't have much time to think. He grabbed a turtleneck sweater from the pile of clothes on his floor that he hadn't bothered to throw in the laundry basket. He took his winter gloves and pulled them on to cover his withering hands. As he slipped his sweater on, he headed over to the door. He put his shoes on and took several deep breaths, trying to fight the dizziness that had started to enthral him. And then, he pulled his door open and made his way over to Elliot, Mathew, and Mavis, who were waiting by the dormitory door.

          "Let's go," he said.

          "Are you sure you're okay to walk to the hall?" Elliot asked.

          "Yeah," he uttered, pulling the dormitory door open.

          They all followed him out, and once he locked the door with his trembling hands—which he tried to hide as best he could, they all headed towards the stairs. He could feel his allies' eyes on him but he didn't spare them a glance in order to avoid their nagging questions. He just wanted to get to the hall and find out what had happened.

          When they reached the trial hall, the doors were already open, and the last of the students were filing inside. Clementine followed them in, and as he took his seat in the gallery, hushed whispers surrounded him. Murmurs of, 'He's alive,' and 'That's him.' He ignored them and glared down at the defendants' table, waiting to see who would be seated there. His allies sat beside him, and as the bailiff appeared beside the judge's bench, Clementine's eyes shifted to the jury box.

          At the same time Huxley appeared from the door beside his bench, the jury filed out from their door. But Clementine didn't see Sebastien among them, and that immediately set off his anxiety.

          The door close to the defendant's table opened. Everyone looked over at it, watching as the defendants were escorted out. Harper came first, grunting and complaining as Professor Warren dragged her over to the table. Next, Professor Quincy escorted the tall, dark, curly-haired boy that had been sitting beside Ian in the hall when they'd been making charms and offerings for All-Hallows' Eve. And last...Ian. Escorted by Professor McMillan, he was taken to the defendant's table, and he didn't look so good. He didn't look good at all.

          Ian was as pale as ice, his lips purple, his eyes weeping. He stumbled forward and pretty much fell into his seat when McMillan shoved him away. And as he sat there, he wrapped his arms around his stomach, a sickly look on his face.

          The bailiff held up her hand. "The honourable court of the Aldergrove Judicial Circuit with the Honourable Judge Christien Huxley is now in session. All rise."

          Everyone fell silent as they stood up, watching Huxley take his seat.

          "You may be seated," she then called.

          They all sat back down.

          "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this case involves the multi-murder of several students on Novem thirty-first at eight-thirty-four in the assembly hall. The deceased are Penelope Grace, Harriet Morgan, Jason Potter, Marvelo Jordans, Kitta Knight, Brody Silverheart, and Charlie Armwood Junior. Harper Collins, Laurell Dante, and Ian Carter are the defendants. There are no witnesses for this case, but there is substantial evidence that will be presented."

          Clementine's eyes shot to a door that opened on the other side of the judge's bench. He hoped it wouldn't be Sebastien that walked out, but instead, a tall, elf-eared boy with long, platinum-blonde hair gracefully emerged into the courtroom and stood on the witness stand.

          "Atticus Quinn, please present your evidence," Huxley called.

          The elf's snooty expression thickened. "Traces of bay leaf were found in the cinnamon cocoa," he started, his voice calm and almost monotone.

          "Who is that guy?" Elliot muttered.

          "Probably one of the law students," Clementine uttered.

          "This, along with the reactions the victims displayed, and how fast they succumbed, as well as reports from the medical wing nurses, it was safe to assume the poison used was basilisk venom."

          "You can't prove it!" Harper yelled, and when Ian didn't yell with her, she looked over at him and frowned. He was looking a lot worse by the second.

          "Bay leaves are known for masking the potent basilisk venom smell. We also received an anonymous tip that the ingredients used to mask the venom could be found in Ian Carter's dorm."

          The crowd gasped and whispered.

          Clementine frowned. Was Sebastien that anonymous tipper? He had to be. No one else knew what he had seen in Ian's room.

          "We sent a team to search the accused's room, and not only did we find pieces of bay leaf, but we also found a mortar and pestle with basilisk venom residue on it. The equipment belongs to Miss Harper Collins—her name was carved into the base. Mr Laurell Dante was also seen making a trade with a mage on Novem twenty-eighth in Ulrora Slope. When we investigated this mage, we discovered that he deals in rare herbs and alchemy components. For a handsome fee, he told us he sold basilisk venom to Mr Dante."

          "Lies!" Harper screamed. "We were set up!" Then, she looked over at Ian. "Say something!" she insisted.

          Ian made a noise which was something of a cross between a sickly groan and a pained wince.

          "Thank you, Mr Quinn," Huxley said. As the elf left the stand, the professor looked over at the jury. "Jurors, you will now retire to the jury room and deliberate. When you have reached a verdict, please, let—"

          "That won't be necessary, your honour," one of the jurors called. "We find the defendants guilty."

          The gallery broke into murmurs and mumbles again as Harper and Laurell panicked. Ian just sat there, his jaw chattering, his lips puckering and pouting. He looked as though he was just moments from throwing up.

          Huxley raised his hand to quieten the crowd and glared at the defendants. "I hereby expel the three of you from—"

          Suddenly, Ian made a ghastly, retching sound, and as he threw up both blood and black ooze, everyone jumped to their feet and watched.

          Clementine couldn't help but smirk. He watched with glee in his tired eyes as Ian coughed, choked, and groaned. The professors backed off as he fell out of his seat and vomited onto the carpet. Harper tried to help him, but nothing she could do would do anything. Ian fell onto his side, his body convulsing, his pained groans becoming louder. And when the life began fading from Ian's face, Clementine could hear the other Ravenblood among the crowd murmuring to one another in panic.

          "What the heck's happening to him?" Elliot whispered.

          "Do you think he got a dose of his own poison?" one of the kids behind them asked.

          "A taste of his own medicine," said another.

          "Clementine," came Mathew's voice.

          He took his eyes off Ian and glanced over at him.

          "Did you...?"

          "No," he lied, setting his sights back on Ian, watching as he stopped convulsing...and took his last breath.

          Huxley slammed his gavel. "This case has concluded. Return to your dorms and remain there until you are told to resume classes." Then, he swiftly left.

          "Let's go!" Professor Warren called. "Quickly now."

          Clementine frowned as everyone stood up, heading for the doors as the professors ushered them on. What was the rush?

          He glanced down at the defendants' table, watching as the bailiff and Professor McMillan escorted Laurell and Harper away, leaving Ian's dead body where it had fallen.

          "Come on," Elliot said, tapping Clementine's shoulder.

          Taking his eyes off Ian, Clementine followed his allies out of the trial hall.

          "Head straight back to your dorms," Professor Warren called, waving the students off down the corridor.

          "What's got them so worked up?" one of the passing students muttered.

          Clementine looked around, hoping to spot Sebastien, but there was still no sign of him. Had he been the anonymous tipper who had told that elf law student about what he had seen in Ian's room the night of the party? Who had died when the academy went cold just before the trial announcement? And why were the professors acting so strange? Well, stranger than usual.

          He sighed, continuing forward, but then the halls went cold. He stopped walking and looked back over his shoulder, but Professor Warren wasn't there anymore, and the trial hall doors were shut. The whispers drowned out the sound of the departing students, and as Clementine stared at the hall doors, a low, rumbling growl echoed from the other side.

          "Clemytine?" came Mavis' voice.

          "What is it?" Elliot asked.

          Keeping his eyes on the door, he frowned sceptically. He already suspected those creatures he'd seen glimpses of did something with the dead students' bodies, and seeing how quickly the professors had rushed everyone out of the hall made him wonder...did the professors know these things existed? Did they perhaps use them to gather up the dead bodies? Or maybe...maybe....

          Clementine headed back towards the trial hall doors, ignoring his allies' disapproving, hushed calls and insistency that they head back to their dorms as they'd been told. He knew he shouldn't be pushing his luck, but he wanted to know if he was right. So, he approached the door, and when he reached it, he exhaled quietly, trying to calm his nerves. He wasn't sure what he might be about to see, but he had to see it.

          As gently and quietly as he could, he eased the door open....

⤠ ≻ ◈ ≺ ⤟