experiencing an acute case of stage fright. He stepped closer. “You were born for this. Every single hours of every single day of your life has resulted in the cumulative experience that made the Powers choose you. Out of billions. Just remember that, in your courtroom, you’re the Man.” His pep talk had been going so well, but seeing the look on my face change, he tried to backpedal. Fast. “You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, I did know what he meant. And hella resented it.
“Ready?” Lochlan had moved to the door and was holding it open.
No. No, I wasn’t.
“Is Sprigley here?”
“Yes,” said Lochlan. “Here and at your service.”
Over the past few weeks I’d given some thought to my own journal legacy and decided to implement twenty-first century advantages, like my version of a court reporter. I’d decided that if someone would record and transcribe the proceedings in word processor format, it would be easy for me to annotate later. The final product would be an exact reproduction of what took place, along with my notes on how and why decisions had been made.
Jeff overheard me telling Keir my thoughts on the subject one night and said his girlfriend was a sprite with an upbeat personality and also an expert in PC applications. I’d asked if she was looking for a job, and he said he thought she’d be over the moon about such an opportunity.
He was right. She was perfect.
“I’ll go first,” Lochlan continued as if I wasn’t having an internal meltdown. “Keir will come after. You already know where to sit. If anything comes up that we didn’t anticipate, just turn aside and ask me.”
With a nod, I said, “Got it.”
Intellectually I knew there was no reason to be overanxious. Why? Because Esme told me everything was going to be fine, and I’d learned to believe her when she makes definitive pronouncements. Now if I could only get my nervous system to trust Esmerelda with the same conviction as my mind.
I let out a long slow breath then began putting one foot in front of the other. If being alive for almost half a century had taught me anything, it was that. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. “There will be a bottle of water out there?” I asked Lochlan for the eighth time.
“Bottles of room temperature water are within our reach, lined up like little plastic soldiers,” he said.
“Lochlan. This is not the time to try to be funny. What do I do when I need to visit the ladies’?”
Lochlan assumed that confused look the fae get whenever I’ve thrown one of them for a loop.
“She means how does she signal that she needs a visit to the toilet?” Keir supplied.
“Oh.” Lochlan had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Just turn to me and signal that you want a recess.”
Recess. It was my favorite thing in elementary school. It might be my favorite thing as a magistrate as well.
“Okay.” For a moment I thought I was out of reasons to stall, but fortune was with me even if bravery wasn’t.
“Wait!” I almost shouted, realizing I’d forgotten the most important thing. I dashed for the navy blue velvet box in my oversized bag and pulled out the medallion I’d gotten from the Silver Braid before the dwarf master smith, Bradesford Skeech, passed on. I squeezed the intricately formed wolf’s head in my hand for a few seconds before draping the chain of state over my shoulder.
As I adjusted the chain, the calm of supreme confidence settled over me. I said a silent, “thank you,” to Brad.
I had no way of knowing the beautiful jewelry had such profound magical powers, but I was grateful beyond measure. When I graced Keir with a big smile, he said, “What just happened?”
“Brad.” No time for lengthy explanations.
Turning to Lochlan, high beam smile still in place, I said, “Show time!”
Lochlan’s good-natured chuckle was even more comforting than usual. Being sandwiched between two fae officers of the court, who’d held their jobs for centuries, was further comfort. He stepped through the door and held it open.
“It can’t hurt to begin by making them wait for a couple of minutes.”
Keir nodded his approval. “Right. Send a message. Let them know in no uncertain terms who the most important person in the building is.”
I confess that I felt my ego swelling as I soaked that into my core, then vowed for the thousandth time to refrain from believing my own press. The magistrate’s