16. Verdict

sixteen

The journey back to the Enclave passed uneventfully. Ghosttear barely stirred in its harness, ignoring all attempts to engage with it, while Heartrender spent most of the trip scampering happily about with Lockrod, her relief at being reunited reverberating along their bond. Meanwhile, Shadowlash and Tremorfist quickly struck up a friendly rivalry, each of them vying for Seymour's attention. Rather than attempt to defuse the situation, the watcher had embraced it.

"A little competition is good for them," he'd told Adrian after sending both daemons rushing ahead to scout out their path. "Keeps them on their toes."

To each their own, Adrian supposed. For his part, he was grateful his daemons weren't nearly so combative…even if he did occasionally catch a faint hint of longing from Lockrod while watching Seymour's daemons duke it out.

Though he'd initially worried about Shadowlash's temperament, he soon found himself put at ease. For all her former ferocity as Kali's companion, she seemed content to travel with them now, her tongue lolling out and tail wagging like an affable dog. It had also helped to learn from Seymour that she'd remained near Kali's corpse not out of misplaced loyalty to her former master but out of concern for Ghosttear and Heartrender. She hadn't wanted a wild daemon to stumble upon their imprisoned aether and seek to drain it while they were helpless.

Other than a slight instability to their bond, Seymour appeared to have mostly recovered from his strenuous effort to bond her. Crastley had speculated that the true bond between daemon and daemon master tended naturally toward harmony. With any luck, that meant that establishing an initial link had been the largest hurdle Seymour faced. Now that he had, hopefully their relative difference in strength wouldn't hinder their ongoing connection too badly.

Thinking of Crastley's journal left a hollowness in Adrian's chest. It, along with Seymour's drained watcher armor, likely remained in Elana's possession. Yet another reason to return to the Enclave and beseech their aid. Those notes were far too precious a resource to abandon.

By the time Seymour announced they were nearing the boundary of the hidden village, Adrian had settled on a shaky plan: honesty. Offer the true bond as a viable alternative to bondstones, present their daemons as proof, then plead for Elana's support.

He'd intended to march into the Enclave with his daemons proudly on display. However, they'd yet to reach the village when a voice called out above them, "Halt! Stay where you are!"

"Looks like they've bolstered their security since we escaped," Seymour said quietly enough only Adrian could hear. "Not that it will do them much good."

The watcher had a point—without bonded daemons, any guards would be at a severe disadvantage. Still, no sense antagonizing someone you were about to beseech for aid.

Adrian did as directed, stopping in place amid the trees and holding up his arms.

Seymour rolled his eyes but followed suit.

"This area is off-limits!" another voice shouted from farther to their left.

Sensing Seymour's growing irritation, Adrian took the lead. "It's Adrian and Seymour," he shouted. "Your recent ‘guests.' We seek an audience with Elana!"

A long pause. Were the guards deliberating? It seemed a good sign he hadn't been met with immediate refusal. His hope faded when the shouted reply came back.

"You are outsiders. Leave this place and never return!"

"Now that we have our daemons back, they seem much more willing to be rid of us," Seymour said to Adrian. Raising his voice, he shouted, "That wasn't a request. Take us to your leader, or we'll find her ourselves!"

"You would threaten us with violence after we took you in—gave you food and shelter?"

"And caged us like rats!" Tremorfist and Shadowlash both tensed beside the watcher. "Spirits below, if we meant you harm, we'd just burn your spirit-cursed Enclave to the ground!"

"You know," Adrian said into the silence that followed, "I think this is exactly the kind of attitude that convinced them not to trust us in the first place."

Seymour huffed and crossed his arms, glaring at a nearby tree the way he used to glare at Adrian. At least, he'd stopped shouting threats for the time being.

"What my overly passionate friend is trying to say," Adrian called, "is that we have no intentions of harming anyone, nor of revealing your existence to the outside world." He spread his hands. "All we ask is that you present our request to Elana."

After another lengthy pause, a voice replied, "We'll relay your message. Wait here."

Adrian exhaled. Secure an audience with Elana—check. She'd seemed reasonable enough during her visit with him, so he didn't think she'd send them away without hearing them out. That should give them a chance to plead their case.

A few minutes later, the underbrush ahead of them rustled. Two young men emerged, both dressed in green and brown strips likely meant to better camouflage them within the forest. They wordlessly gestured for Seymour and him to follow.

"Promise me you won't antagonize anyone," Adrian whispered to Seymour as they trailed after the pair of scouts.

"So long as they don't act like fools, we won't have a problem."

Spirits below, this is going to be a disaster.

It wasn't long before they emerged onto a dirt path cutting between blocky stone huts, and Adrian got his first good look at the Enclave in the light of day. The best word he could think of to describe it was functional. Everything from the simplistic buildings to the rough clothes worn by its people looked like the bare minimum required to fulfill its purpose.

He supposed that was the price of forsaking daemonic labor. With proper training and equipment, humans could do the work themselves, but few possessed either in the modern age. Why learn to shape stone or metal by hand when you could rely on daemons to do it for you?

Of course, the people here weren't entirely bereft of daemons. A handful of the creatures wandered the mostly empty streets. They perked up with curiosity as Adrian's procession filed past. Was this how things would have been if not for Serenity Corp's bondstones setting man and daemon at odds—a world where the Bulwark and all it represented became a relic of the past?

He set aside the melancholic thought as they reached a large, central area that had to be the village square. Crudely carved benches encircled the space in several tiers. A mix of young and old faces peered back at him, over a hundred all told. That explained why the rest of the village seemed so empty—everyone had gathered here to weigh their words.

And by the hostile looks on most of their faces, the verdict wasn't likely to be a pleasant one.

Adrian swallowed, taking an involuntarily step toward the road they'd followed here. He'd expected a private meeting with Elana, not to be judged by the entire spirit-cursed Enclave!

Seymour leaned in. Adrian's breath caught, a shiver of warmth coursing up his spine as the watcher rested a hand on his arm. "Don't let them intimidate you. Remember why we're here."

Heartrender's reassurance reverberated through their bond, along with Lockrod's brash promise to defend him if necessary. Ghosttear rustled in its makeshift harness, looking up at him with slightly less lethargy than usual. Its own show of support, perhaps?

Despite his nerves, he grinned faintly and gave Seymour a nod. He could do this. He had to.

A familiar figure stood from the gathered crowd. Elana wore the same battered shawl as before, though she now also held a white wooden staff and had a beaded headdress woven into her silver hair. She regarded them with hard eyes, her previous friendliness gone.

Not a great sign.

She rapped her staff on the stone bench to silence the murmuring crowd. "Adrian and Seymour! Why have you returned?"

Straight and to the point. He could work with that. "When we spoke last, you said you didn't know how you could trust our intentions." He gestured at their assembled daemons. "Well, as you can see, we have regained control of our aether. Yet still, we come before you in peace."

Seymour narrowed his eyes at another figure who rose on Elana's right.

"Peace?" said Leda, their former jailer. "Was it peace on your minds when you assaulted me or threatened our guards?" She spun to face her sister. "Look at them, flaunting their slaves as if that proves anything other than their own complicity in the League's wickedness!"

"Enough, Leda." Elana sounded tired, as if this were part of some longstanding dispute between them. "Your concerns are noted, and you will have a chance to present a reasoned argument in full. But first, let's—"

"Concerns? Oh, I have plenty of concerns!" Leda pointed a trembling finger at them. "They are a threat to our very way of life, and I will not stand idly by while—"

"Enough, dear sister. As I said, you and everyone else will have a chance to make your case." Elana met and held Adrian's gaze. "But so will they. That much, at least, we can grant them."

Leda huffed and glared at Adrian as though this were all his fault—which, in her mind, he supposed it was. Slowly, she sank back into her seat.

Elana glanced around the amphitheater. "The same goes for all of you," she said, raising her voice. "Spirits know we've settled enough disputes here to remember the process."

A polite murmur of laughter rippled through the courtyard, quickly dying away. Adrian tried to collect his thoughts as Elana turned back toward him. "Please, continue."

Nodding, he forced himself to survey the hostile crowd, trying his best to convey a calm confidence he didn't feel. "A few months ago, I uncovered evidence that Serenity Corp knew how to bond daemons without bondstones. They sent agents to silence us, so Seymour and I fled into Overlin Forest to escape. That's why we're here—to seek refuge, just as you once did."

"Who cares how you bonded your daemons?" someone shouted. "Chains are chains!"

Adrian shook his head. "The true bond is a partnership between equals." Amid snorts of disbelief, he added, "Such a bond can only be forged with a willing daemon."

Elana had to bang her staff several times before the outraged cries of the audience dimmed enough for her to be heard. "You say you come in peace and that your bonds differ from those we know. But words alone are not enough. What proof can you offer of their veracity?"

An expectant silence fell, all eyes on Adrian. This is it. Time to lay it all on the line. He only hoped it would be enough. "Nothing I come up with will convince you." Seymour clenched his jaw beside him at the general clamor of agreement. "So instead, I want you to do it."

Taking advantage of the crowd's momentary confusion, he stepped away from Seymour, instantly missing the watcher's closeness. Heartrender and Lockrod dutifully followed. He stopped a few paces before Elana's bench, surveying the belligerent faces around her. His gaze lingered on Leda's, her only response a scowl.

"Allow me to demonstrate how to form the true bond," he continued. "Then, you can perform it for yourselves and know for certain that we are telling the truth."

A general outcry reverberated through the courtyard. Adrian's stomach sank as Elana fought to restore order. He'd expected pushback, especially from those like Leda. But he'd hoped at least one person there would take the bait, out of mere curiosity if nothing else.

"I'm afraid that is out of the question," Elana said, half-shouting to be heard over the remaining din. "As I told you before, everyone here has sworn an oath to never bond a daemon. Our shared freedom is the single greatest tenet upon which our society rests. We won't forsake that vow on your word alone—not without a compelling reason."

Adrian struggled to shove down his frustration, urging restraint upon Lockrod when the daemon offered to bludgeon some sense into the crowd with an Unbendable Rod. It was an infuriating dilemma. How was he supposed to convince these people of the veracity of his claims when they refused to consider his evidence unless they'd already been convinced? The best way to demonstrate the true bond's existence was to experience it for yourself.

Movement in the front row caught his eye. He looked over to see a girl there standing up. Perhaps a few years younger than him and Seymour, she kept her copper hair trimmed short, her face alight with curiosity rather than open disdain. Unlike most of the others here, her aether visibly churned, suggesting she'd spent time honing it. Something in her features struck him as familiar, though he was certain they'd never met.

"Do you have any way to prove your daemon can still think and act for itself?" she asked.

Sensing an opportunity, he seized it. "Of course! Ask her anything you like and see for yourself." If he couldn't convince these people to witness the true bond directly, he could at least highlight its impact via his daemons.

The girl knitted her brow. "But how are we supposed to tell if your daemon's acting independently or just obeying your mental command?"

"Good question," he conceded. "But there are plenty of limits to bondstones over the true bond. Go ahead," he said when the girl continued to eye him. "Give it your best shot."

The girl nodded, pursing her lips. Then, she surprised Adrian by issuing a string of orders in quick succession.

"Stand on your hind legs. Sit. Roll over. Run to the left. To the right. Back to the left. Further to the left! Jump. Jump. Jump forward. Jump back."

Heartrender executed the commands flawlessly.

When the girl paused for breath, Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Satisfied?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. "Not by a long shot. That could prove your daemon understands me well enough to respond on its own. Or it could simply mean you both have good reaction times. Let's try something more complex."

The girl studied Heartrender, tapping a finger against her chin. Adrian felt a surge of annoyance through his bond. Heartrender didn't appreciate being asked to put on a show. He tried to soothe her as the girl barked out a new set of orders.

"Do laps around the square. Then, when I call stop, I want you to find someone who matches the description I give. Understand?"

Heartrender yipped and bobbed her head.

The girl's eyes widened slightly, and disbelieving whispers filled the square. Adrian suppressed a grin.

"Okay," the girl said, recovering. "Start!"

Heartrender obediently trotted along the perimeter. Adrian started to track her progress, but the girl snapped, "Nope, eyes forward! I don't want you cheating and telling it where to go."

"Her," he said. The girl gave him a confused look, so he explained. "Heartrender is a she."

More angry muttering at that, but the girl only nodded. Her eyes returned to Heartrender. She waited until the next time Heartrender was behind him before calling, "Stop! All right, I want you to find someone wearing green, then someone who's old, then someone who looks mean."

Adrian could sense Heartrender moving behind him, concentrating on the task. Green is a color, he sent to her unspoken question, along with a mental image of what it looked like. She might be able to understand human speech, but not all their concepts translated well.

Moments later, the girl laughed delightedly. "Agreed," she said with a wide grin. "Beatrice does look ready to murder us in our sleep right now. Good job. You can return to Adrian."

A handful of scattered laughter issued from the crowd. Adrian's burgeoning hope grew. He gestured to Lockrod while Heartrender returned to his side. "Don't you want to test him, too?"

"What do you mean?" the girl asked.

"Well, I thought you might want to confirm the results with my other bonded daemon."

The last of the laughter faded, and Adrian's skin prickled. Had he said something wrong?

The girl drew her brows together. "I've never bonded my own daemon, but even I know you can only summon one daemon at a time."

Sudden understanding swept over him. Of course! Not knowing anything about the true bond, they must've assumed only two of these daemons actually belonged to Seymour and him, the rest either wild or subdued. The irony of it made him chuckle.

The girl's eyes narrowed. "What's so funny?"

"I thought I needed some fancy way to prove the true bond's existence when all I really needed to do was this."

One by one, he recalled his daemons to him, melding them into his flesh via a reverse Fusion. Then, he resummoned them both into the clearing. There were no murmurs this time. The crowd remained absolutely silent.

All except the girl, who nodded thoughtfully. "That certainly lends credence to your claims. And your daemons do seem more intelligent than what I've heard about the usual bond…"

She tapped her chin. Then, as if coming to a decision, she stepped into the clearing.

"Freya!" Elana barked, sounding exasperated. "Get back in your seat this instant!"

"It's fine, mother," the girl—Freya—said.

Adrian's breath caught. Mother?

Freya paused a couple paces away. Lockrod studied her curiously, while Heartrender gave her a suspicious look as if to ask, What now? Ghosttear shifted against Adrian's chest.

Freya glanced at him. "May I?"

He shrugged. "Don't ask me—ask them."

She turned her questioning gaze to his daemons. Lockrod's response was to scamper forward, crawling up Freya's arm and onto her shoulder. Shouts rang out around the square as several people leaped to their feet wielding shoddy clubs. They froze when Freya giggled.

"Stop it," she gasped, wriggling her shoulders. "That tickles!"

Lockrod hopped down, chittering while he played with the hem of Freya's dress. Go on, Adrian sent to Heartrender. Show her how friendly you are.

The impression she sent back suggested being friendly was about the last thing she wanted to do right now. Nevertheless, she humored him. With a soft mew, she rubbed her head against Freya's hand, following it with a purr when the girl scratched behind her ears.

Adrian smiled, watching until Freya finally extricated herself and returned to her seat. "I've seen enough." She turned to Elana. "I believe them, mother. Those daemons' personalities remain intact. If nothing else, I think Adrian is telling the truth about this new bond."

"Lies!" Leda jumped to her feet, her face contorted with rage. "You've been taken in by their tricks! Slavery is slavery, no matter how you dress it up."

Freya fixed Leda with a cool expression. "Those daemons are no more slaves than you or me, Aunt Leda."

Leda's face reddened. "If that is what you believe, then we have failed in our duty as your elders." She faced the rest of the crowd, raising her voice so it would carry. "When we forged this community, we swore to never again bond a daemon. Now, these…these criminals come, offering the temptation of a loophole. We should never have brought them here!"

The way her eyes flicked to Elana left no secret of who she blamed for that blunder. For her part, Elana's only visible reaction was a slight tightening around her eyes.

"If you would have had us turn aside a dying man and his friend's request for aid, then you're no better than the society we left behind," Elana said. "Now, if that is all—"

"I have as much a right as anyone else here to speak my mind!" Leda cried.

"Of course," Elana replied. "During a hearing, everyone can argue their case—so it has been for twenty years. But that does not permit you to make whatever baseless accusations you please, nor to turn this occasion into a pulpit for your own grandstanding. Now, do you have any other legitimate concerns to voice? Reasoned arguments to raise?" She swept her gaze over the assembled crowd. "Anyone else?"

Silence.

Moving jerkily like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Leda fell back into her seat. Elana dismissed her sister, studying Adrian and Seymour with an unreadable expression before glancing at Freya, who stubbornly met her gaze. With a heavy sigh, Elana nodded.

"Very well. While I'm not as convinced as my daughter, I also take issue with the assumptions underlying my sister's objections. Thus, I propose a middle ground. Adrian and Seymour, you will remain here as our guests. You may use our shelter, partake of our food, and speak with our people so that we might observe this ‘true bond' of yours firsthand. In one month's time, we shall meet again for a final verdict. This communal meeting is adjourned."

Elana banged her staff on the ground three times. The crowd erupted into a frenzy of discussion while Leda stormed off, a small cluster of villagers trailing after her.

Adrian watched them go as a lead weight settled in his gut. They certainly had their work cut out for them. Still, he'd bought them a month to prove to the Enclave that they were telling the truth. All he could do now was ensure he made the most of every minute of it.