Worlds Apart (21 page)

Soon the door opened again, and
the sharp steps of the Council sounded along the aisle. Clive and
the others stood, facing forward until the five members had taken
their seats. Clive knew them all by reputation. One was a
representative for the elves, one for the witches. Another elf
represented the Department of Public Safety and Wellbeing. A satyr
served as representative of Teachers and Healers. The last was
Brendan Raison, a faun, sitting as the representative of Portal and
Law Enforcement. He was also Kasia's immediate superior. These five
people made up one of the three Councils for Kaarmanesh.

They were Clive's
judges.

The center judge, one of the
elves, looked over the people who stood facing her. “Council is in
session,” she said, “hearing the case of Kaarmanesh vs. Clive
Winslow, a werewolf. Mr. Winslow, you are instructed to take the
Rail.”

The Rail stood to the right of
them, between their table and the Council's. It was what it sounded
like, a wooden rail raised to a height of four feet. The accused
criminal stood behind it for the duration of the hearing. Clive had
never given it much thought. But now, as he stepped behind Kasia to
take his place, the cold reminder of his guilt returned, this time
laced with humiliation. He stood there, biting the inside of his
lip, and staring ahead. He could not meet anyone's eyes.

The prosecution was succinct,
laying out Clive's crimes in soft, horrified voices. They described
the scene in the cabin's yard. The blood, the mangled flesh, and
the smell of death were described in detail. Clive stared
ahead.

Then Kasia spoke, explaining about
Clive's work, and his record. She told them about the case, and his
authorization to perform his duties. She described his condition
when they found him.

Shandari spoke last, to describe
the extent of his injuries. As an Empath, she had taken his wounds
into her own body, and she told them in passionate detail of his
physical pain, and of his mental and emotional torment.

They let him sit. He’d been
standing for two hours, and he shook with weakness as he moved back
to the table. He was not yet healed of all his injuries. The
Council dismissed both teams, with instructions to return after
deliberations were completed. Clive remained at the table for
several minutes, his head resting on his hands, before joining
Kasia and Shandari in the waiting room.

~~

“They're ready for us.”

Clive heard Kasia's words, but
didn't look up from his full cup of cold coffee.
Why am I so
afraid? It's only death. A quick one, then... it's over. No more
pain.

No more loneliness.

Kasia touched his shoulder and he
slid the cup away before standing. A glance at her tight face
brought a sudden, affectionate smile to his lips.

“I am sorry for all this,” he
said. “And I am very grateful for your friendship. Whatever happens
in there, I'm grateful.”

She blinked suspiciously bright
eyes, but just patted his arm before turning away. Shandari joined
them and they walked three abreast down the hall, not speaking.
Clive did not glance around the hearing room when they entered this
time, deciding he didn't need more intimidation. Instead, he
focused on Kasia's back as she led them to their table, and on
Shandari's presence behind him.

They were not defending him
because it was their job. They were with him because they believed
in him. Trusted him. There was some comfort in knowing that he did
have friends.

But as the Council filed in a few
minutes later, his thoughts went back to Tina, and the child she
carried. The thoughts brought comfort. He may never see her again,
never meet his son, no matter what the Council's decision. But even
if they put him to death right now, he was leaving behind something
that no werewolf ever had before.

And maybe, if Shandari was right,
the tragic accident of a pregnancy would lead to a cure. This
wasn't something he could lay claim to in any sense. But he took
comfort from it, anyway.

The Council Lead spoke. “Mr.
Winslow, you may take the Rail.”

As if it were a privilege. His
legs were shaking and he was afraid he'd stumble on his way. So he
stood straight, his back stiff to add strength to his legs. The
rail seemed to recede as he approached it, as if he were trying to
catch an asymptote. But he reached it at last, grasping the bar
with one hand to steady himself.

He stared at the rail until its
whirls stopped spinning before his eyes, and it settled back into
solid wood again. He sensed the support of Kasia and Shandari, and
raised his head to look at them. They did not deserve to be
ignored. He gave them a slight nod, then turned his gaze to the
Council, and waited.

They were watching him. When the
Lead saw he was settled, she picked up the paper in front of her.
As was custom, she directed her remarks to him.

“Mr. Winslow, you are no doubt
aware that this is an unusual case. As a werewolf, and as a law
enforcement officer, you know the laws you have broken are serious
ones. Indeed, they are among the most important laws of Kaarmanesh.
This Council has not found merit in the suggestion of self-defense.
While it is true that you were imprisoned and tortured, you were
free when you Changed, and your victims were unconscious when you
killed them. As a werewolf, you had no control over your actions,
but that is precisely why we have these laws, and the enclaves. I
am sure you agree.

“However, this Council has found
it necessary to consider the fact that you were functioning in your
capacity as enforcement officer at the time of your capture and
imprisonment. Your record in this capacity has been exemplary over
the years, and speaks to your sincere dedication to the laws of our
land, and the safety of our citizens. Because of these truths, the
Council has voted to commute the sentence of death.”

His breath released in a shot; he
had not been aware he held it. She raised a hand to forestall any
noise that might be forthcoming in the room.

“It is not the service of this
Council to dictate the duties of the Law Enforcement Division.” She
glanced to the faun, who returned the look with a raised brow. She
turned her gaze back to Clive. “Nor any other independent division
of government. However, the Council has drafted a recommendation
that henceforth, werewolves in positions of service must be
assigned administrative duties only, to be carried out under close
supervision of a responsible colleague. There must be no further
instances of a werewolf allowed to roam free at the time of the
full moon, while bearing the authority of the government. Your
supervisor is directed to implement this change effective
immediately, with the following exception.”

She placed the paper on the table,
having never referred to it, and turned her gaze to Kasia, who sat
stiff and pale in her chair. Clive felt a twinge of
alarm.

“Board Member Raison has apprised
this Council that there is a werewolf loose in the Flatlands. The
Council agrees the situation must be remedied at once, and at any
cost. It is Member Raison's opinion that it may take a werewolf to
find a werewolf. For this reason, the Council authorizes Captain
Windblood to assign Mr. Winslow to the Flatlands task force.
Captain, you are surety for Mr. Winslow. You will assure his strict
adherence to Kaarmanesh law, and return him to Kaarmanesh as soon
as your mission is accomplished. The Council expresses its hope
that your mission succeeds quickly, and that the border is once
again secured for the safety of all.”

She tapped the table, once. “You
are free to go, Mr. Winslow.”

Clive stumbled as he turned in
bewildered relief, but Shandari was there, her hug holding him
upright. He returned the hug, smiling over her head at Kasia, who
punched him lightly on the arm.

“Let's go,” she whispered. Clive
realized the wisdom of that suggestion. He hoped never to set foot
in this room again.

Chapter 25

The last patient before lunch had
just cleared out. Tina wandered up to the front counter, tapping
her stethoscope with nervous fingers. “Sharon,” she said, then
stopped to wait for the lump in her throat to clear
away.

Sharon glanced up from her
computer, her brows lowering in concern when she saw Tina's face.
“What's wrong?”

Tina took a deep breath. “Have…
have you seen Beowulf in the last couple of days? He didn't come
home last night.”

Sharon paused to give it some
thought, then shook her head. “I wasn't looking out for him, but I
don't remember seeing him on the porch yesterday. I know I didn't
see him this morning.”

“Okay, thanks.” Tina hurried to
her office, closing the door just as she burst into tears. She
covered her face with her hands, and sank onto the loveseat, unable
to control her sobs.

Sharon entered in less than a
minute and sat beside her, arm around her shoulders. “I'm sure he's
fine, Doc,” she said. “You know how cats are. He's out having a
good time, but he'll be home soon.”

“He never stays away.” Tina choked
the words out, snatching at the tissues Sharon handed her. “He's
always waiting when I get off work, he's always sleeping on my
front porch, you know that. He… was… mad at me yesterday, and now…
now he's run away.”

“What's going on? Who's run away?”
Will Summerlin, arriving for their weekly lunch meeting, came into
the office and knelt in front of Tina, his face creased in
concern.

“Her cat,” Sharon said. Tina cried
harder.

“Oh.” Will rubbed Tina's head.
“Nah, it's spring. I bet he's off having a good time.”

“He's neutered,” Tina said. “He
was mad or sick or something, and he's run away. Or maybe a raccoon
got him. Or…,”

“Tell you what, we'll put a notice
in the paper, and put up some posters around town,” Will decided.
“Everyone knows Beowulf, so if they know he's missing, they'll be
on the lookout. Don't write him off, Tina.”

“Sure,” Sharon said. “I'll call
the paper right now, and make up a poster. I have pictures of him
on my computer. I'll use one of those. It won't take more than a
few minutes. I'll print out a bunch and go put 'em up while I get
my lunch. We'll find him.”

Tina blew her nose, recovering a
bit. “Okay. Let's do that.” She stared at her hands. “But I have a
really bad feeling about this.”

“You're tired,” Will said. “You've
had the plague to deal with, all the deaths, starting with those
boys, and an unexpected pregnancy. That's a lot of stress. I'm not
surprised you have a bad feeling.”

Sharon stood up and patted Tina's
shoulder. “Let me get right on it. You have some food and put your
feet up.” She turned to Will. “Doc Summerlin, there are sandwiches
and fruit in the fridge, and I just made a fresh pot of herbal tea.
You feed this lady while I do the paperwork.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, lifting
Tina's feet and turning her to prop them on the sofa. He tucked a
pillow behind her head and pointed a stern finger at her. “Rest.
I'll be right back with food. Here.” He snatched the bottle of
water that stood on her desk and handed it to her. “Drink. You look
dehydrated.”

She took it, grateful for their
care. “Thank you.” Another tear tracked her cheek, although she was
through sobbing. She drank the water, as ordered, then chewed on
her lip while Will rustled through the fridge in the kitchenette.
Beowulf's behavior had been more than odd. And she had no doubt
that his disappearance was connected.

Will interrupted her thoughts,
striding into her office encumbered with stacked plates topped with
wrapped sandwiches, two pears, and paper towels in one hand, plus
two cups of hot tea and a sharp knife dangling from the fingers of
the other hand. She met him halfway to relieve him of the knife.
“You could have made two trips.”

“Wouldn't have been macho enough,”
he said, placing the cups on her coffee table with exaggerated
care. He took back the knife. “I'll slice the pears, you unwrap the
sandwiches.”

“All right.” Tina turned to a
topic guaranteed to keep Will talking. “Tell me how little Jed is
doing. He's all well from the illness, I take it? Back to being a
terror?”

It worked, although it was obvious
that Will was determined to cheer her up anyway. He chatted on
about his two-year-old son, and then about his wife's efforts to
help the community get back to normal life. But when they'd
finished eating, he switched to business.

“I've got a patient who seems to
have a fear of treatment,” he said. “I can't get her to commit to
an appointment, or get her blood work done.”

Tina rolled her eyes, covering a
flash of nerves. “Very funny. You know I've been busy.”

He leaned toward her. “You're
three months pregnant and you’ve been through a stressful
situation. I'm sure everything is fine, but you know it's best to
do baseline tests early on. Blood and urine. That's all I'm
asking.” He pointed at her. “Don't deny that you're avoiding it.
And that's what worries me. What are you afraid of?”

She stared at him and gave her
head a small shake. How could she explain this?