Lake Silence (The Others #6)(126)
Grimshaw held his breath, waiting for Ilya Sanguinati’s response.
“The terra indigene will accept your ruling about the land known as The Jumble,” Ilya said.
“Of course you’ll accept it,” Dane said in a voice close to a whine. “He ruled in your favor.”
“But recent events have brought a group of humans to the attention of the Elders—and the Elementals,” Ilya continued, “and they have made some decisions with regard to these adversaries.”
Suddenly Grimshaw felt like he was standing next to a roaring fire. Hargreaves looked uncomfortable too. Ilya Sanguinati did not. As for the guy with the multicolored hair . . .
A chill went through Grimshaw as he considered why the room felt so hot.
“A few generations ago, a club was created in Hubb NE,” Ilya said. “Its members were drawn from the private college, the university, the technical college, and the police academy. The purpose of the club was to form a pool of individuals whose various abilities would be made available to other members—a network, if you will. There is nothing wrong with networks—until they are used to manipulate other people in order for their members to take what doesn’t belong to them. This particular club identifies its members with a distinctive tie clip—specifically, the one my learned colleague is wearing.” Ilya looked pointedly at the other attorney.
Now Ilya focused his attention on the judge. “You have said that the humans standing before you cannot be punished according to your law, or have already been punished since Yorick Dane lost control of the land he coveted and three of the females have lost their mates. As the representative for the terra indigene, I am authorized to accept that judgment. In return, you must accept ours.
“Beginning this day and for the next hundred years, any human connected to the Tie Clip Club, as it is officially known, is banned from Lake Silence, the land around it, and the village of Sproing. The ban includes anyone connected to a member of said club by birth or marriage. Any member of the club who crosses into forbidden territory will be killed.”
Ilya looked at Yorick Dane. “From this day forward, if any of you, or if anyone connected to you, tries to contact Victoria DeVine or distress her in any way or take any action that would damage the property known as The Jumble, a tight, intense tornado will form out of a cloudless sky and destroy your house and all that stands within it. It will destroy the building where you conduct your business. And it will also destroy the . . .” He turned to his companion. “What was it called?”
“Rut shack,” the man with the multicolored hair replied.
“I think humans usually use a more genteel expression.”
“Love nest?” Grimshaw suggested under his breath.
Ilya tipped his head. “Yes. Love nest.”
Constance Dane turned on her husband. “You told me you hadn’t renewed the lease on that place.”
“I didn’t!” Yorick said.
“He didn’t,” Ilya agreed. “He simply rented another one that you didn’t know about. He successfully hid it from you. He can no longer successfully hide anything because now we have reason to watch everything he does—and everyone he does.”
Grimshaw fought not to smile. If Ilya had been looking for a fitting kind of revenge against Yorick Dane, he’d found it.
“If any of you go near Victoria DeVine again, we will strip you, and anyone who helps you, of everything your greed has acquired,” Ilya said. “And then we will strip you of your skin, your muscle, and your blood. But not all at once.”
The other man picked up a rolled newspaper from the table behind him. He smiled as he held it up. “And what the tornado doesn’t take . . .”
The paper turned into a torch that burned fierce and hot and quick. And the hand that held it was made of fire, not flesh.
“I think we all understand one another.” Ilya Sanguinati walked out of the courtroom, followed by Fire, who dropped what was left of the newspaper.
No one spoke. Everyone watched the last pieces of burned, blackened paper float to the floor.
“Captain Hargreaves. Officer Grimshaw,” the judge said. “You will escort these people to the nearest railroad station and see that they get on the earliest available train to Hubb NE. I will remain here until you return. In the meantime, I will call the governor and let him know about this latest . . . development . . . between humans and the terra indigene. This court is adjourned.”
Hargreaves made the decision of who was riding with whom, giving Grimshaw the three widows and driving Yorick and Constance Dane himself. It was possible his captain wanted to give him a break and spare him from listening to the Danes snipe at each other. More likely, Hargreaves had made the decision to prevent Grimshaw from taking a very long detour into the wild country on the way to the train station.
Hargreaves knew him well.
CHAPTER 83
Vicki
Windsday, Sumor 12
“You’re moving back to The Jumble tomorrow?” Julian asked as we settled in the chairs on his porch. He had a beer; I had orange juice over ice since I was still taking a nighttime pain pill in order to sleep.
“Yes, I’m going back, although I’m not sure for how long.”
“Why?”
I hesitated. I went through so much to keep The Jumble; it was hard to admit defeat. “The Jumble is kind of notorious now.” Kind of? Newspapers from Lakeside to Hubbney and all the Finger Lakes towns in between had written about the Tie Clip Club’s schemes and scandals, and the terra indigene’s retaliation against said schemes and scandals. The one good thing that had come out of all of this was that the club had been exposed as a group of wheelers and dealers who were, quite often, underhanded in their business dealings with anyone but their own members.