Bureau to face her crimes. Jora was sure they didn’t normally pay much attention to the prisoners on their way to judgment, but she was different, as evidenced by the surprised looks, the whispers, the pointing fingers, the fear in the eyes of the enforcers sitting opposite her. Did the citizens know what she’d done? Or did they only know that she was the Gatekeeper, the first in some five hundred years? Perhaps they didn’t even know that.
They’d taken away her robe, street clothes, and boots and given her primitive, wood-and-rope sandals and prisoners’ blacks to wear. Sewn to fit a man, the tunic was loose, the sleeves reaching to her knuckles, and the trousers, belted with a thin rope, had to be cuffed and belted about her ankles to keep from tripping her. Without the red robe, how would anyone guess she was the Gatekeeper? She was just a former member of the Order of Justice Officials, accused of some crime or perhaps gone mad and gagged to keep from shouting her delusions for all to hear.
Jora angled her face up into the sun, which felt warm and comforting on her skin. She hoped not to die on a day like this. If she had her choice, she would choose a dreary, rainy day so her executioners would share in her misery.
In front of the stately Justice Bureau, the team of horses halted. Two enforcers climbed down, ready to receive her from two others. Their hands were rough but respectful. No one tried to touch her where his hands would be unwelcome. Perhaps they didn’t want to incur her wrath should she somehow manage to free herself of the gag and kendern. With their hands clasping her upper arms, she ascended the many steps to the grand double entry doors, but it wasn’t the carved wood that drew her eye or the faint stain from Elder Sonnis’s blood that still marred the white steps.
It was the Spirit Stone.
How she longed to touch it once more, to feel its tone hum through her body and resonate with her soul.
She craned her neck to see it as as they passed it, and she was half-dragged, half-marched into the building. Inside, she closed her eyes, unable to stop the flow of tears down her cheeks. Without being able to feel the tones or speak to Sundancer, what was the point in living? Her friends were dead, about to be executed, or standing on the side of what they called justice within the Order. She had no family left but for one brother serving his time in the Legion.
With the kendern on her head, she couldn’t Observe him through the Mindstream to assure herself he was safe. Finn was probably going about his usual routine, oblivious to what had happened. He undoubtedly thought his wife and daughter were still alive in Kaild, awaiting his return. How could he know that his younger sister—his only sister now—was going to be tried for murder and sentenced to death?
Perhaps the kendern was a blessing. She didn’t want to witness the look on his face when he learned what had happened. She didn’t want to see the disgust and horror in his eyes when his commander spewed the lies the Legion would undoubtedly agree on to lay the blame across Jora’s shoulders.
The enforcers escorted her through the high-ceilinged corridors, their steps echoing on the polished wood floor. Ahead, justice officials in colorful robes filed into a courtroom, each one casting a wary glance in her direction as they entered. Some of them she recognized. Some looked familiar, but their names didn’t immediately come to her. Still others were strangers. The enforcers took her inside.
The room was filled to capacity, the seats in the gallery taken by disciples in blue robes, adepts in green, and elders in yellow. Jora hoped to see at least one violet robe worn by Adriel, perhaps her only remaining friend within the Order, but no novices were present. The onlookers sat quietly but for the rustle of nervous fidgeting as she walked past.
A trio of elders, Elder Gastone and two whose names she didn’t know, seated themselves at the judge’s bench. From their position atop an elevated platform in the front of the room, they could look down upon the accused and the adepts judging her. One elder had white eyebrows and a spotted head. The other was a woman who looked much younger, perhaps newly promoted. She had blue eyes, thin red