Mike Shevdon - The Eighth Court

Mentioning the strange dream seemed a bad idea. I didn’t want to start sounding crazy after an obvious head injury. Instead I explained why I’d gone to find Claire.

“Why didn’t you come back here? We could have got some help, or sent someone else; one of the other Warders.”

“If I’d waited and come back here they would have been gone before we got there. I only just caught them as it was.”

“For all the good it did you.” Blackbird shook her head. “One of these days…” she said, dabbing at the cut.

I told them about the flat and finding the blood stains. I neglected to mention throwing up over the balcony, but I did tell them about the state of the rooms and the absence of a body.

“So you think Raffmir took the body?” asked Blackbird.

“I’m fairly sure it was him in the van. He must have hired someone to steal the safe. By recruiting human help, they were able to remove the safe with all the items inside. They can’t do anything with it because they can’t open the safe, but now neither can we. They only have to keep it from us.”

“We can just make another set of knives, though, can’t we? Isn’t that what you did before?” asked Angela.

“Perhaps,” said Blackbird. “What about the horseshoes?”

“They were only there to protect the knives.” I said. “Fat lot of good they did in the end.”

“I still don’t understand,” said Blackbird. “Why take the knives now? We have almost ten months until they’re needed again. The ceremony isn’t until next October. They’ve given the game away much too early.”

“I don’t think Raffmir was expecting to see anyone at the Royal Courts of Justice,” I said. “And with Claire Radisson out of the way, who is there to raise the alarm about the missing safe? The woman outside Claire’s office clearly thought it was all routine. We wouldn’t find out until it was too late.”

“But why now?”

“Because no one was expecting it now. We’re close to the winter solstice, the time of balance, but they’re usually quiet at this time of the year. They can cross between the worlds and lay the foundations for whatever they have planned for next year. We already know they had long-term plans to eliminate the mongrel-fey using biological weapons. Who knows what else they’re doing,” I pointed out.

“I need to tell the High Court about this,” said Blackbird. “They can spread the word that the Raffmir is here. Maybe we can find out what the Seventh Court is up to before it gets any worse.”

“I thought we’d finished for today,” said Krane, taking his seat. “If I’d realised the Eighth Court would take this much time I’d have never agreed to it in the first place.”

“You didn’t agree to it,” said Teoth.

“No, I didn’t. So why are we back here? Is your plan to talk us into submission, Blackbird? An endless debate until you get what you want?”

He had a point. They had already debated for hours, firstly on whether there was precedent for another court, then on whether it could be formed without the agreement of all the other courts, including the Seventh. It seemed like Krane and Teoth would fight her every inch of the way. They had even argued over where she should sit. Krane said that she could not have a seat until they reached a decision on whether there would be an Eighth Court, but then changed his mind when Blackbird went to sit in Altair’s vacant seat. Then they had tried to seat her at the end of the row, but as she pointed out, that would place her directly next to Altair, should he return. On the other hand, she didn’t want to be in the middle of them all and have to divide her attention between those to the left and right of her. In the end, Kimlesh made a space between her and Yonna. At least there she felt she had some support.

“I have some information which I thought I should share,” she said, addressing all of them.

“Perhaps,” said Krane, “You have come to inform us that you will no longer be filling the High Court with waifs and strays and you have found some place of your own?”

That was another point of contention. The High Court was supposed to be neutral ground. No one court was supposed to have more claim there than any other, but the Eighth Court had nowhere else. If the Eighth Court were to continue, it would need a home, but unlike the other courts it had no land, property or wealth. It was one more thing on top of all the other things she had to worry about.

“The Seventh Court has stolen the knives and horseshoes for the Quit Rents ceremony.” There was a long silence. There, she thought. That shut them up.

Yonna asked, “How did you come by this information?”

She summarised what Niall had told her. “Raffmir has taken the safe containing the knives and the horseshoes. Niall thinks he recruited human help to steal it. They were in a van. As far as I know, Raffmir can’t drive?”

“Who knows what he is capable of,” said Barthia.

“I can’t see Raffmir driving a vehicle,” said Kimlesh. “Can you?”

“You’re missing the point,” said Yonna. “He’s taken the knives. We will need to replace them before the ceremony is performed again.

“The clerk’s also missing,” said Blackbird. “There’s blood all over her flat.”

“If she’s dead, that’s more of a problem,” said Kimlesh. “Will they be able to appoint a new clerk in time for the ceremony? Is there a successor?”

“Your biggest problem is still getting the knives remade,” said Teoth.

“How so?” asked Kimlesh.

“The Highsmiths made one knife for us,” said Yonna. “I’m sure they can be persuaded to make another, and while Raffmir may be able to steal the safe with the knives in, he won’t be able to steal the hammer or the anvil, even if he has human help.”

“He doesn’t need to,” said Blackbird. “He has the nails. Without the sixty-first nail, we can’t reach the hammer either. We can’t remake the knives without the hammer.”

Teoth smiled. “It’s worse than that. While you might be able to get the smiths to make another Quick Knife, you are assuming we will make another Dead Knife.”

“Can we not?” asked Yonna. “You are the High Maker, Teoth. You made the original. Can you not make another?”

“If I had the metal, perhaps,” he said. “Assuming I was willing to make it.”

“Why would you not be willing?” asked Barthia.

“When we put the barrier in place,” said Teoth, “we were united in our task to keep the Seventh Court from our world. Our reasons for excluding them have recently become… less compelling.” He looked at Blackbird.

“You are surely not holding the Eighth Court to ransom?” said Kimlesh. “That’s outrageous!”

Teoth folded his arms. “I am merely pointing out that if you go ahead without consensus, then you cannot expect cooperation when things go badly.”

“This isn’t a game,” said Barthia. “If the Seventh Court return then we will all suffer.”

“Not necessarily,” said Krane. “Only last year, Altair was willing to enter discussions on the peaceful return of our wraithkin brethren.”

“That was just a cover for what Raffmir was doing,” said Blackbird. “It was a distraction from his real plan, which was to destroy all the mixed-race fey.”

“I thought the discussions were positive,” said Krane. “We were making progress until Warder Dogstar tried to destroy half of Wiltshire.”

“He saved the mongrel fey, and uncovered systematic torture in violation of our treaty with humanity,” said Blackbird.

“Our treaty doesn’t cover half-breeds,” said Krane.

“That’s debatable,” said Kimlesh.

“And it only applies to six courts,” Krane continued, “not seven… or eight.”