Ve'Rah Daa (The Ephemeral: Book 3)

Chapter 2

Appeal to humor, he'd advised us. Relatability is your most powerful tool after their pity runs dry.

Siren pivoted. "When Alex Kingsley freed you, did you run?"

"...No." Will and I brushed gazes, recalling our discussion that evening, the alliance we'd forged. The Fates had tied a bend knot between us that night, binding us in ways we never could have predicted. "I enlisted in the military."

"And when Holly was under siege, did you run away with Harmon, as you'd once planned?"

"I fought beside my friends," Will replied. "Harmon too."

My heart sank thinking of the grumpy, whiskered Rhean, and then I blinked. 

Wait.

Did Will just say...friends?

That was the first and only time I'd ever heard him utter the F-word unironically, and a warm feeling enveloped my whole being, soothing the melancholic ache in my chest.

I wish I owned a diary, if only to record this historic event.

Siren moved toward Will again—slowly, confidently. "When the Court charged you with treason and imprisoned you in the Ground, did you resist?"

"No."

"And when Havenbrooke was seconds from losing ground to demon invaders, did you abandon us?"

Will shook his head. "I was helping Claus destroy the portal."

"Indeed." The woman's lips twitched, but only her closest comrades could see the gentleness in those sharpened, war-sculpted features. She stopped short of Will, gazing down at her pupil—and in many ways, her son. "Finally, if you were permitted to fight, would you give your life for this cause?"

Will opened his mouth, then hesitated. "It depends on the cause. If you hope to save your country and end this war, then yes. If your goal includes genocide or the acquisition of dark magic, then no." He glanced in my direction again. "I've said it from the beginning: I'll fight with Ells, but not for you. That'll never change."

Siren allowed his pledge to marinate a bit before facing the jury. "I've known Liam since he was eleven. He's always been patient, humble, and perceptive. And I know those he's fought beside can say the same, including Thomas Kingsley, who was the first officer to give him a chance."

The name pinched the corners of my eyes, and the tears gathering there for the past few minutes finally spilled over my cheeks.

My brother really did place his trust in Will—not because I'd asked him to, but because Will had proved his genuine concern for my wellbeing. They'd become allies in guardianship, and even though I'd loathed their protectiveness, at least my carelessness had bridged that divide.

"Liam is not your enemy," Siren concluded, and there was a maternal edge to her voice, firm and protective and unyielding. "He is one of your strongest assets in this war, an ally from an enemy nation. Killing him would not only serve as a grand injustice, but a grave and foolish mistake." She glared at the bench and their stiff, uncompromising features. They sat like statues of our ancestors, frozen in time and grounded in traditionalist mindsets. Lackluster and brittle. "I have no further questions."

Excused, Will finally returned to the defendant's table and sat down beside me. I reached for his hand, our restraints clanking as we linked fingertips. "That was amazing."

"I'm not sure the jury thinks so." He tilted his head at their conflicted faces.

"You stated your truth, and that's all anyone can ask of you," I assured him. "I'm proud of you." For staying when you could have fled, and for fighting a battle you're not sure you can win.