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Authors: Jill Archer

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“Another month went by, the seeds rotted, and still the Lethe level remained low. In a fit of frustration, the Greenwalds called their hearth demon. The hearth demon arrived, furious with Ashe for taking advantage of his clients, furious with his clients for not calling him sooner, and”—Rochester cleared his throat, alerting us to the real problem—“furious with Rictus.”

The room fell silent. Brunus’ bored look was gone, replaced by one of near rapture. He’d be one to watch if he enjoyed the idea of demons fighting. It was
exactly
what Maegesters were bound, by law and scripture, to prevent. Squabbling among demons, no matter how petty, had to be stopped at once. No one wanted a small feud to turn into a full-fledged war, which is what might happen if demons were allowed to work out their own differences. Demon dispositions being what they were, one minor argument might lead to demons gathering armies, making attacks, and laying siege, an eventuality that Halja could ill afford. Our world had already sacrificed its future for an uneasy peace. Two thousand years ago, we’d won the Apocalypse but in so doing had destroyed Heaven and, some believed, our own souls. Another war, therefore, was Halja’s greatest fear. For these
reasons, the Council had long ago established their “zero tolerance policy” for demon infighting. It was easier to stop the war that never got started.

Rochester looked around, satisfied that each of us understood the gravity of the situation. Though the matter was to be handled by Mercator and Brunus, it seemed that Rochester wanted us to learn from the others’ assignments. So I assumed we could comment and raised my hand.

“Who brought the matter to St. Luck’s for representation?”

Mercator nodded. Brunus frowned at me.

“The Greenwalds,” said Rochester. “They’re still stuck at Blacken Ridge, but they wrote to request representation. It seems they were… worried… about the extent of their hearth demon’s fury.”

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, a few of us laughed. “Worried” was likely a euphemism for “horrified.” Mercator picked up his pen and leaned forward in his seat, his signature heating up with interest.

“Has the hearth demon made any specific allegations about Rictus?” Mercator asked, “Or is he just blustering about, unhappy that his clients ignored him for too long?”

“Good question,” Rochester said, his voice deep and rumbling, like an avalanche of boulders. “Specific allegations have been made. The hearth demon, whose name is Yul by the way, accused Rictus of hypocrisy.”

Sasha gaped and Tosca made a grunting sound that seemed to indicate surprise or amusement. Maybe both. Hypocrisy was a severe accusation. It would have been taken badly by any demon but the fact that it was leveled at a demon such as Rictus, whose honor was bound up in being the strictest of the strict, made it that much worse.

“Yul claims that Ashe designed the seed trade to recoup what he’d lost when he agreed to reduce the Greenwalds’ annual pass rate. Yul accused Rictus of encouraging, or at least tacitly agreeing to, the seed-trade scam. According to Yul, this means Rictus was involved in a deception designed to thwart an agreement. In other words, he broke the rules.”

I saw how easily one small Hyrke disagreement could spin so out of control that Maegester services were required. One moment, a couple of Hyrkes are arguing about money and the next, one demon is accusing the other of hypocrisy and rule breaking.

“Was the seed trade really a scam?” Brunus asked. “Or is that just Yul’s position?”

Rochester nodded, acknowledging another question well asked. Apparently even Brunus was capable.

“Interestingly, Rictus takes no position on the seed trade. But he is enraged about the hypocrisy claim and wants immediate restitution. Rictus’ position is that his client, Ashe, scrupulously followed the rules. Per the contract, the full price of the ticket was to have been paid up front. It was not. Ashe considerately agreed to payment in installments per the Greenwalds’ request. Later, the Greenwalds used seasonal fluctuations in the Lethe’s level and the threat of their hearth demon to strong-arm Ashe into further price reductions. If anyone was guilty of breaking rules, Rictus claims, it’s the Greenwalds, who ignored, thwarted, and breached their contract with Ashe at every opportunity.”

What a mess. I considered how I might handle the matter if it were assigned to me. The seed trade was clearly a scam. No Mederi-blessed seeds would rot in a month. The legal solution was to argue fraud and make Ashe reimburse the Greenwalds for the cost of the seeds. The demon part of it, what we Maegesters were really paid to do, was a little less clear. I thought for a moment. What would appease the demons and make them back down? Yul was furious because he’d lost adoration from his clients. The couple had bought bogus seeds to start a new hearth instead of making a sacrifice to him. I would advise the couple to immediately make amends, appease their hearth demon, and pledge no further loyalty breaches. If I were forced to represent Ashe, I would chastise him soundly for the seed debacle, force him to honor the oral amendments he made with the Greenwalds, and advise a hasty sacrifice to Rictus for his troubles. But all of this would still leave the Hyrkes stranded at the dock.

“Are Maegesters able to summon other demons to assist in a matter like this?” I asked.

All went still and quiet. No shuffling of papers, no squeaking chairs, no coughs or scratches of pen on paper. How could there be when every eye was suddenly on me?

“Summon
another
demon? Are you crazy?” Tosca said. Brunus guffawed. Sasha looked at me, eyes agog, mouth agape.

“Well,” I said, unable to prevent the spreading blush on my cheeks, “I just wondered what would happen to Ashe and the Greenwalds after their demons are appeased.”

“Who cares?” Brunus shouted and then groaned. “You’re still thinking like the Hyrke you’ve spent your whole life pretending to be. Stop wasting our time. We need to focus on how to put the demons back in their balls so to speak, not pull more of them out.”

“Strong but stupid,” I heard Tosca murmur under his breath.

“She has a point,” Ari said. He’d been so quiet during the discussion of Mercator and Brunus’ assignment, I’d wondered if he was paying any attention. “Which demon would you call?” he said, turning to me.

“Ari,” Rochester said, his tone of voice a clear warning.

“I was thinking the patron demon of the Lethe might be helpful.”

“Helpful?” Brunus echoed, his face pinched with scorn. “In what corner of Halja would summoning a demon ever prove
helpful
?”

“Even if you settle the current dispute,” I said, racing to get my point across before I lost my nerve, “it will likely heat up again with everyone just sitting there tethered to the Blacken Ridge dock, going nowhere. It’s obvious that Ashe hasn’t been making his sacrifices to the river demon.”

Obvious? Hardly. I’d been denied the education and experience that everyone in this room had been given since birth. I’d based my assessment only on the general knowledge that every resident of Halja had and common sense. But was that enough? Had I missed something crucial?

Rochester cleared his throat and folded his hands in front of him, contemplating me. He appeared to consider his next words carefully.

“You will be interesting to teach, Ms. Onyx,” he said. “You dismissed appeasing the on-site demons, Rictus and Yul, as if it were a fait accompli. In practice, appeasing demons, even if you have a plan, is a grim and difficult job. Separating entangled demons often leaves Maegesters with little strength to tackle additional problems. Also, while summoning demons is not strictly forbidden, it is discouraged. Summoning the river demon for ‘assistance’ could backfire. Once the river demon’s attention is focused on the matter, he may require more than just a sum of sacrifices to balance his truant client’s account.”

To my left, Sasha laughed. I looked down at my desk.

“Mr. Olivine,” Rochester snapped, “you’ll represent Ashe. Mr. Palladium, you’ll represent the Greenwalds.” They nodded, apparently satisfied with the sides they’d been given. “Opposing counsel shouldn’t collaborate, and should avoid even the appearance of collaboration. This means you may not discuss your assignments outside of class.

“Okay, that’s it for today. Tomorrow I’ll hand out the rest of the clinic assignments. We’ll discuss them in class again on Wednesday. By Bryde’s Day on Thursday, you should have some thoughts on overall strategy and be prepared for your first client interview. Ms. Onyx, please see me after class.”

Chapter 11

B
eneath my desk my fists clenched, echoing my stomach. Chairs scraped across the floor as the rest of the class gathered their books and prepared to leave. Beside me, Ari sat still. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want him to see how stupid I felt for suggesting an additional demon might help with Brunus and Mercator’s problem. I reached down to grab my backpack. I’d spent half the night reading the books that were in it and I’d barely scratched the surface of the material. I didn’t have time to read more. We had a Sin and Sanction midterm coming up that everyone needed to pass, regardless of whether they were Host or Hyrke. I’d now missed more than a few study group sessions with Ivy and Fitz. I was behind in my Oathbreaking work. I’d never mastered remedies like I planned. By Thursday, I’d have a client to represent in a matter that was likely to have serious, real-life implications. And the one person who’d offered to help me catch up in Manipulation was now my opposing counsel. Further study sessions with Ari were now unadvisable.

Ari gave my shoulder a brief squeeze and walked out. I
slung my overweighted backpack over my shoulder and walked to the front of the classroom where Rochester waited for me.

He stood draped in a cloak of blue so dark it seemed to swallow light, like a new moon midnight sky. Rochester must have been in his early sixties, but I saw not a single strand of gray in his coarse, black hair. His eyes were a cold gray and he wore a neatly trimmed mustache. It was rumored that every Maegester had a drop of demon blood in them. Looking at Rochester, it was easy to imagine that the rumor was true.

“Most of my students wouldn’t think of the Hyrkes’ fate after the demon issues have been settled,” Rochester said. “Your unique upbringing may have hidden benefits.”

I still didn’t understand why calling the river demon was such a bad idea. My Hyrke friends were forever calling upon their demons to help them out. I said as much to Rochester.

“Exactly,” he said. “Calling, not summoning. There’s a difference.” He folded his hands across his bulging stomach and leaned back against his desk.

“Hyrkes have the privilege of calling their demons anytime they want. But that’s because they can’t control or manipulate them. Hyrkes beseech demons, they adore them, and make pleas to them, which the demons are free to answer or not, at the demon’s discretion. Maegesters, however,
are
capable of controlling and manipulating demons. When a Maegester summons a demon, the demon feels bound. A Maegester’s summoning can create feelings of animosity and ill will between the demon and the Maegester.”

I nodded, and wondered what my life would be like if I survived my training. Everything about being a Maegester seemed counterintuitive.

“Thanks for the additional background,” I said. “I realize I have a lot of catching up to do. I had thought to study with Ari Carmine, but if we’re going to be opposing counsel… ?”

Staying away from Ari outside of class would be difficult. How broad was the prohibition on collaboration between opposing counsel? Unfortunately, I couldn’t imagine studying
with any of the others. Well, maybe Mercator, but Ari had said he spent most of his free time with his girlfriend.

“Your magic today was strong and effective,” Rochester said. “That’s why I ranked you second. But your methods are unorthodox. It’s clear you’ve had no real training. Under ordinary circumstances, I would say Mr. Carmine would make a fine study partner, but…”

Rochester paused, peering intently at me. I could feel his signature creeping along the edges of mine. It was very subtle and I wondered if someone with less sensitivity than I had would have felt it. I fought an instinct to push it back. It would have been futile and I didn’t want Rochester to think I had anything to hide. But what was he looking for? Did signatures carry residual magic from things previously experienced? Declaring had wiped clean any potential sin of denying my magic. Did Rochester sense some lingering emotion over Serafina in my signature? Guilt and grief had been my main reactions to the ordeal, but maybe fear would have been more appropriate. I shuddered and Rochester’s look became more inquisitive. It was impossible to tell what he was picking up. But his next words surprised me.

“Are you romantically involved with Mr. Carmine?”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. I wasn’t sure what to say. Regardless of the fact that we were opposing counsel
now
, what we’d done outside of the classroom
before
was no one’s business but our own.

“I only ask because your magic affected him, and there’s no way it could have unless there was a connection between you. It also seemed as if he was taunting you into proving it. And you did, by tapping into some shared emotion. It’s very dangerous stuff, for both of you.”

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