Mike Shevdon - Sixty-One Nails

"What about me? I'm not a member of any court. I don't have to follow any law."

"It's all I could think of. It's that or fight them."

"I can beat him." My words sounded hollow, even to myself.

"We would lose."

It took me a moment to realise that she wasn't referring to the two of us but to another "we", closer to her heart. I looked into her face and saw anguish laid bare. She had chosen to save her own life and the life of the child she carried, rather than fight and risk losing both. I could not judge her harshly for making that choice.

"It's OK," I told her. "We'll go to this trial, wherever it is, and make our case there."

"No, Niall. It's here, and now. It's not a trial by jury. It is a trial by ordeal, and they will choose the ordeal because I invoked it."

"I hope you know what you're doing," I told her.

"I'm doing what I must."

"What happens now?"

"There are formalities. We must all agree to be bound by the trial. If we survive the ordeal then we win and they will withdraw. If we do not, they win and we withdraw, or at least the survivor does. I'm sorry, Niall, I could see no other way."

I could see why she'd made her decision. At least this way she and Ben would not be harmed. My gallowfyre flickered and died and we were illuminated only by the meagre light from Blackbird's torch left discarded on the gantry floor. I stood in the darkness and understood the price she'd sold me for. I couldn't blame her. Had it been my daughter's life in the balance I would have chosen the same. It was all a gamble anyway. I didn't know if I really could have beaten Raffmir. I just knew I needed to win more than he did, and that maybe it wasn't enough.

"What's happening?" The shout was from behind us. Ben had seen the light fade and was trying to find out what the situation was.

Blackbird turned to the rail. "There's to be a test to decide what happens. The good news is you get to walk away at the end of it."

"And the bad?" he asked.

"The bad news is that if we lose, then the knife will not be remade, and the barrier will fail."

"And if we win?"

"They'll leave us in peace, at least for now," she confirmed.

"What do we have to do?" I asked her.

"We must exchange names," she told me, "so each is bound by the outcome of the trial. Those surviving will know the true names of each of the parties here, but must tell no one else, ever. It is only between those who take part. It means a great deal to have that power over another and it will bind us to the outcome. Each of us has the names of the others as forfeit, so balance is maintained. It binds us in enmity far closer than we would ever be bound in alliance."

A glow of blue-white light sparked into being above our heads. I tensed against some new attack, but this was cold and steady like fox-fire, and unlike the fickle glimmering of gallowfyre.

"I have taken the liberty of lighting our discourse." Raffmir crossed the gantry and shepherded his sister onto the walkway.

My dark adjusted eyes saw him clearly for the first time. It struck me suddenly that our magic was not the only thing we had in common. I knew he was tall and that his outline was slim. What I hadn't realised was that his facial features mirrored my own. The sharp cheek bones and wavy dark hair, the slightly sunken eyes and length of jaw were all things I recognised. In a roomful of people I would have picked him out as some long-lost relative, a distant cousin, perhaps. His dress was different and the long-cut black Edwardian jacket and white lace frilled sleeves would have marked him out as an eccentric in any company, but the similarity remained.

The woman I already knew. That cold pinched face with the harsh tight mouth.

She glared at me. "I should have eaten you the first time."

I answered her courteously. "Madam, you have failed to kill me twice before. I would think, having failed a third time, that you might give it up as a bad job."

Raffmir's laughter filled the vaulted tunnel despite the sound of thundering water from below. "Truly, my sister, he is of our blood. Like it or no." She turned her glare to him but he was immune to it.

"Mistress," he turned to Blackbird, "you have called trial and therefore you must lead."

Blackbird took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what was to come.

"I am named Velladore Rainbow Wings, Daughter of Fire and Air, called Blackbird," she said, clearly.

"And I am named Cartillian, Son of the Void, Star of the Moon's Darkness, called Raffmir," he answered, bowing elegantly to her.

He turned to me.

Following Blackbird's example, I spoke. "I am Niall Petersen, from Kent, also called Rabbit."

There was a moment's shocked pause. Then laughter boiled up from him, bemusing me and causing his sister to give him another withering look. He clearly found it very amusing. I wasn't sure whether to be offended or not. I turned to Blackbird, the memory of a smile played on her lips, but she just raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

"This cannot be," Raffmir declaimed to the tunnels. "You may be a mongrel, but no half-brother to me or mine can carry a name like that into a trial."

Blackbird corrected him. "As I think you pointed out, Raffmir, he cannot have a formal name for he has not yet been received at court to claim one. These are the only names he has."

"Then I shall give him one. One fit for a brother to me, though the blood-ties are more tenuous than I would wish. If you are to stand trial, mongrel, I will not have you tested without a name. I name you Alshirian, Son of the Void, Brightest Star in the Heavens. A mongrel name for a mongrel Fey. Be welcome, Dogstar, into your heritage."

"Another name will be yours," Blackbird whispered, "when you have earned it." It was an echo of Kareesh's words and I tried to remember what else she had said. There was something about evading traps and wearing cloaks, but after all that had happened I could not remember her precise words.

"Now you," Blackbird addressed the figure in grey.

"Mind your manners, half-breed," she hissed.

"Come, sister," Raffmir said. "Would you rather forfeit than give up your name? Have a care. The laws of the Courts of the Feyre care nothing for the heritage of the tried."

"They are not even Fey!" she spat.

"But you are, and therefore you are bound by Feyre law, just as I am. Will you stand before our lord and master and tell him you have broken Fey law? Have patience. All will be as it should."

These last words sounded as an ominous reassurance of what was to come.

She folded her arms, stubbornly.

"There is sanction for those that refuse fair trial," he reminded her gently, "and that would be beyond my ability to protect you."

"Oh, very well. I am named Iriennen, Child of the Void, Nightshade's Daughter, also called Solandre. Satisfied?" This last was thrown at Blackbird.

She looked to Raffmir for confirmation and he nodded.

"It is nicely done," she confirmed. "Now it is for you to choose the trial." By her expression I could see she'd been dreading this part. They could choose anything they wished and I did not think they would make it easy.

"Very well," said Raffmir.

He walked to the rail and looked over, surveying the anvil and the figure below. Ben was sat on the anvil, and the ball of light floated out over Raffmir and into the vaulted space sliding dark shadows into the niches along both sides and revealing the dark lines in his upturned face.

Raffmir surveyed the anvil and the smith beside it, the hammer resting on the dull surface.

"Since this concerns the making of a knife," he intoned, "the trial shall be this. The hammer must be taken by the one who stands trial from one side of the river to the other, simply that. See the rungs down into the water beyond the island. It must be crossed there."