“I cannot believe you threatened the entire night court,” said Polly as we sat in the office. The humidifier was off, and the iron chair sat in the corner, where it wouldn’t do anyone any harm. A large tray of chicken spiedies, ordered earlier in the day and stored in my office where they’d stay fresh, sat in the center of the desk. Hamburger buns sat on the side. A blood bag sat in Jenny’s lap, although she didn’t seem to have much appetite. I leaned back in my chair, chewing industriously on a particularly tough piece of chicken, and enjoying the feeling immensely. I was in my nice chair, and had pulled the other good chairs out of the storage closet, big armchairs with comfortable armrests and high backs. I didn’t particularly care if they got a little messy, I never got a chance to use them.
Chapter 12: What Goes Around Comes Around
“I had half expected you to leave town,” said Lady Ann Willing. She sat with one leg crossed over the other. “Though the damage your home suffered was a nice touch. Why have you come back, Atina LeRoux? Come to claim that your client, through no fault of your own, escaped? That you should be allowed to live unmolested in Binghamton again, and to continue to find legal work here? That you were simply suckered in, and are innocent of all of these things?”
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Chapter 11: Crooked Body and Twisted Hair
A mother and child are at the graveyard, visiting the memorial of a beloved family member. On their way back to the car, the child asks his mother, “Mom? Do they ever bury two people in the same grave?”
“Of course not, honey. Why do you ask?”
“Because that tombstone read ‘A lawyer and an honest woman'”.
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Case Files 4: Camazotz, Strix, and Heroes
Chapter 10: The World Is Going Mad
The room was full of tension as the men leveled their guns. Alfred gripped the sword a bit tighter. “I wouldn’t,” he told the men. “You’d be amazed what I could do with a little bit of her blood.” He looked over at Polly, and the young woman nodded.
Chapter 9: Did You Think It Would Be That Easy
For someone who doesn’t care much for leaving home, I love driving. I don’t like maintaining cars, or souping them up, or making a particular car mine, and only mine. Cars are a big, clumsy method of giving me the freedom that is driving. It’s considered one of the quintessential American joys, and for good reason. Every time I drive, I’m consuming a resource that will take millions of years to replenish. The bones of the dead, long since rendered into energy-rich jelly. It’s the inheritance of our species, the thing that can keep society grinding long enough for us to make it to some new energy source, the necromancy for the everyman. And I was wasting it on zooming down a highway at midnight in rural Pennsylvania.
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Case Files 3: Wizards
Chapter 8: An Unexpected Guest
“I never wanted it to end up like this,” said Fang Fen, as she sat back on the hood of her car. It was still hot, providing a warm place to sit for a few minutes before the bitter cold of the night filled it, like it was filling everything else. “The two of us on opposite sides, fighting over whether someone will live or die. You saved my ass once.” I was silent. “And we both know that I can’t repay you for it here. There are a lot of things I’d do for you, Atina, but I will not betray justice for you.”
Chapter 7: Cruor, Ichor, and Gore
I sat with Jenny on the curb outside the club. Polly was nervously kicking her soccer ball from side to side, bouncing it off of the top of her shoes with shocking precision. Every ten or twenty bounces, she’d miss, and it would heavily strike the pavement of the sidewalk, leaving large cracks. Alfred’s jaw was tensed, his forehead vein throbbing, his legs crossed. “Must you do that right now, darling?” he asked, through gritted teeth. He sat in a meditative pose, eyes closed, five candles surrounding him, the vials sitting between his crossed legs. I knew for a fact that he didn’t need any of these little accoutrements, but he’d made it clear that putting on a show made the magic easier.
Chapter 6: Hope Means A Lot
The day before a major trial, the judge calls both lawyers into his chambers, with a very stern expression. “So, I have been presented, by both of you, with a bribe. You, Mister Abrams, gave me ten thousand dollars. And you, Mister Chandler, gave me fifteen thousand dollars.” The two lawyers bow their heads in shamed embarrassment. The Judge takes out a check for five thousand dollars, and hands it to Mister Chandler. “Now then, let’s decide this case on the merits!”
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