Ashes Remain (A Man Named Terran #2)

Something About Blackquill

"Yep, Prosecutor Blackquill's an inmate. But even a convicted murderer still has a job to do and duties to perform."

What he had heard in the pre-trial hearing was so wrong. A murderer as a prosecutor?! Not only has such a man been proven to have zero moral standards when it comes to life, who's to say he wouldn't resort to illegal measures to enact revenge or to make someone else feel the same as he?

He was also concerned with the reactions of a... certain someone. His brand new European co-council seemed way more interested with the prosecutor's name than the fact he was literally going to hang for the same crime they were defending.

It reminded him of when his old mentor fell. Kristoph Gavin was not an experience he wanted to ever live again. He wasn't sure if he'd ever recover from the manipulation, the subtle rewiring of his mind.

Especially with what Athena had slipped after the hearing.

She was going to pretend like she didn't say anything, but he heard her.

Blackquill was a master of psychology, even if he didn't have Athena's degree. However, he used it for much darker purposes. He would manipulate everyone: judge, defense, witnesses, even the gallery. No one was safe from his life and death games of Simon Says.

He'd thought it was just a pun at first, some humor to take the edge off. But apparently, Prosecutor Blackquill's first name is Simon. Another thing he squeezed from Athena.

For living in Europe, how did she know so much about him? Did she read the entire transcript of every single major case in court history on the plane? That seemed unlikely, because she didn't know about Kristoph's fall. Maybe she just read the two Dark Age cases?

But then again, if she had read anything about Mr. Wright's case, she would have some sort of apprehension against another possible Gavin.

It wasn't like he could talk to her about it. Mr. Wright said her English was still returning, and had asked to give her the day to settle in.

While he almost, almost, objected to the remark about the young doctor's English, it seemed perfect to him, he agreed to leave her be.

That Atlantic Ocean jet lag was said to be a killer.

Her language deteriorated rapidly after returning to the Agency for the evening, she nearly stopped speaking in English and when she did, it was rather broken. Strange that someone who had introduced herself as nearly fluent was starting to sound like a beginner. Perhaps she was just tired.

She kept calling herself "Kokone" in this Spanish state, perhaps a nickname or something. After looking it up, it became even more interesting.

Kokone wasn't a word in any of the languages she spoke. It was Japanese. Apparently, it meant "the sounds of one's heart." He remembered Mr. Wright mentioning something similar the other day, and her explaining on the way home.

Apparently, she could hear the "voices" of people's hearts and the true feelings behind them.

Sounds kind of schizophrenic, but okay.

Right now, he was much more concerned about the manipulator they were facing in the morning.

"¿Señor Wright? I... have place to be."

"You'll be alright by yourself? Do you need a translation guide for tonight?"

"If it is no, ah, ¿problema?"

"No problema. You just moved countries, I didn't expect your English to be perfect."

She chuckled nervously, his bracelet tightened on his arm. She wasn't lying about having somewhere to be, but was she lying about her ability to actually speak their language? Was she speaking in this broken tongue to avoid conversation?