DOWNSIDE 6–UNHOLY LUCK–Chapter One Excerpt!

Elder Judge McHugh banged his gavel. The shadow cast by his blue velvet wide-brimmed hat emphasized the pale white Church make-up on his face and turned his black-ringed eyes into pits of dark emptiness. Those pits gave the sparse crowd a brief scan before he spoke. “Facts are Truth.”

“Facts are Truth,” they echoed. Only a few voices, barely more than murmurs in the large room with its dark wood paneling and high carved ceiling. It was a room for grand events, a room where justice and Truth were served, decisions made, lives changed.

Or ordered to be ended, as the case was that day—as Chess assumed the case would be. No way would any judge let Cassie Benz live, not after what she did.

As if on cue, a hole appeared in the wall to her left as the door cut into it opened. Two bailiffs in dark blue uniforms with black armbands marched through that hole, and between them was Cassie, her hands tied, her head down. Just the fact that she was there, that it was her, felt like a punch in Chess’s gut.

The bailiffs led Cassie across the floor toward the high stool on the opposite side of the room, near where a panel of Scribing Elders sat behind a low wooden bannister to read the charges and observe the outcome.

Cassie had certainly changed in the almost-six months since Chess had finally arrested her, since Chess had last seen her as she testified about her role with the terrorist group called the Lamaru and their plot to destroy the ghost-filled, ice-cold City of Eternity below the earth. Then Cassie’s hair had been dyed black and cut like Chess’s with Bettie Page bangs—the haircut was supposed to assist the illegal glamour she’d used to impersonate Chess for a brief time—and her expression had been defiant despite the bruises.

Now…now two inches or so of frizzy brownish roots extended from Cassie’s scalp to the line of faded black dye. Her eyes looked sunken, her skin doughy and blotchy—prisoners didn’t get a lot of sun or exercise, especially not high-security magical prisoners like Cassie—and her figure was lost beneath her tent-like prison uniform. Prisoners like Cassie didn’t tend to get a lot of good food, either. The Church gave them enough to keep them alive, and that was all they got. Aside from the fact that prison wasn’t supposed to be a pleasure, Chess knew, though it was never said, that nobody wanted Cassie or other skilled magical prisoners at full strength.

Cassie settled herself on the stool. Chess expected to see fear on Cassie’s face; the about-to-be-condemned generally weren’t feeling super brave about it. But Cassie looked calm. Almost like she didn’t care what happened, or like she couldn’t feel anything at all. But then, sociopaths rarely did, and Cassie was a fucking sociopath. Chess had enough experience with those to know.

“Cassandra Denise Benz,” Elder Judge McHugh spoke again. “You stand duly convicted of crimes against Truth, which is Fact and the law. You stand duly convicted of crimes against life, which is protected by the Church of Real Truth, which is the source of Truth, Fact, and the law. You stand convicted of crimes against the Church of Real Truth, which hold and commands the power of Truth, Fact, and the law. Will the Chief Scribing Elder read the crimes?”

Scribing Elder Freeman stood up from his seat at the end of the panel, a slow unfolding to his full height, his disapproving gaze fixed on Cassie as he moved. His hands clasped a long ivory sheet of parchment. “Cassandra Denise Benz is guilty of the murder of Inquisitor Third and Black Squad member Lauren Abrams.”

“The punishment for that crime against life is death,” said Elder Judge McHugh. Just as Chess had expected. His words were followed by a quiet flurry of scratching sounds as the Scribing Elders recorded the sentence.

“Cassandra Denise Benz is guilty of conspiring with, and being a member of, the illegal terrorist group known as the Lamaru,” Scribing Elder Freeman read.

“The punishment for that crime against the Church of Real Truth is death,” said Elder Judge McHugh. “Commuted to twenty years in spirit prison number seven after the previous sentence is carried out.”

Chess hadn’t been to spirit prison Seven, but all the spirit prisons were basically the same: a place of endless pain, a place where electricity would be used to force the ghosts of the condemned into physical form so they could be tortured with fire and iron.

Scribing Elder Freeman’s voice rang a little louder, a little angrier, on the next charge. Not a surprise, really, considering what it was. “Cassandra Denise Benz is guilty of using illegal ghost-magic to create a deceptive glamour, in order to impersonate victim Lauren Abrams both on and off of the grounds of the Church of Real Truth.”

“The punishment for that crime against Truth is thirty years in spirit prison number seven,” said Elder Judge McHugh.

“Cassandra Denise Benz is guilty of using illegal ghost-magic to create a deceptive glamour, in order to impersonate Debunker Cesaria Putnam during a Farewell ceremony in the City of Eternity.”

Shit. Chess hadn’t thought about the fact that they’d mention her by name. It didn’t matter, really; nobody in the courtroom knew who she was except for the Elders and Cassie. But her face heated just the same.

She must have made some kind of noise, too, or maybe her face turned such a bright red that it glowed. Whatever the reason, Cassie’s eyes rose and scanned the room until she found Chess. Until she looked right at Chess, slouching in her pew at the back of the courtroom, where she’d placed herself in the foolish hope that no one would see her, that she could somehow blend into the carved mahogany wood behind her and escape everyone’s notice.

Foolish hope indeed. She didn’t look up, but she felt Cassie’s gaze just the same, felt her hatred and, infuriatingly, her condescension. Cassie thought Chess’s presence there somehow meant that she, Cassie had won. That Chess was there because she’d gotten to her or something.

Let her think it. Chess wasn’t there because Cassie haunted her dreams or because she needed some kind of emotional “closure.” Chess wasn’t even there out of a sense of duty. She was there because she happened to be in the building to file some papers, and Dana Wright—another Debunker—mentioned that the sentencing was about to take place. It wasn’t any more of a victory for Cassie than it would have been if some random citizen had wandered into the room in an attempt to escape the still-too-hot September weather outside.

Which a few seemed to have done. Either that, or they were Cassie’s family members or friends. Chess didn’t care. Instinct made her note their appearances, their number and placement in the room—well, instinct, experience, and a few things she’d picked up from the most amazing man on the planet—but that information went into a mental file to be examined later if necessary. It didn’t matter at that moment. Who cared if Cassie had a family, or friends beyond the Lamaru? Not Chess.

Chess did care about the Lamaru in general, but they were no more, at least it seemed that way. No one had heard anything from them, or about them, since that night, the night of the battle in the City.

Good. Good riddance. Chess’s body felt lighter, calmer, just thinking of it. Or maybe that was the pills she’d taken before walking into the courtroom, sending sweet narcotic peace through her bloodstream.

“The punishment for that crime against Truth is ten years in spirit prison number seven,” Elder Judge McHugh said.

Well…that was fair, Chess guessed. She would have liked it to have been more. Cassie had pretended to be a rape victim just to unnerve Chess, just to upset her. Just so she could tell Chess she knew about Chess’s past, her childhood, the life she’d led until the day she’d been accepted for Church training. Just to fuck with her.

It wasn’t the most serious part of Cassie’s crime, by a long shot, and Cassie was in for a pretty miserable half-century or so, so it wasn’t that big a deal. Honestly, if it weren’t for what had happened, if it weren’t for the way things had changed with Elder Griffin, Chess probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

But things had changed with Elder Griffin. Chess had gone from being close to him, to feeling like he was…well, like he was close to her, liked her. Cared about her. She’d gone from that to being someone he avoided, someone he barely spoke to or acknowledged, someone he no longer trusted, and she couldn’t help feeling that Cassie’s ten-year-sentence might be a reflection of that, like maybe Elder Griffin had mentioned to Elder Judge McHugh that what Cassie had done to Chess wasn’t that big a deal.

It was probably ridiculous to think such a thing. No, it was definitely ridiculous. That wasn’t how sentencing worked, and as far as Chess knew, Elder Griffin and Elder Judge McHugh barely knew each other.

She still couldn’t help wondering, just a little bit. She couldn’t help feeling like the sentence was a reflection of how she was regarded in the Church, how her position used to be high and now…Elder Griffin wasn’t openly giving her all the shittiest cases anymore, no, but he was hardly praising her to all the other Elders the way he used to do.

And that was her fault.

And it didn’t matter that it was her fault, because given the same choice to make again she would still make it, and it was worth it. The pain she felt when she saw Elder Griffin and there was no warmth in his eyes, no affection like there used to be? That was nothing compared to what she’d felt as she’d looked at Terrible on the ground, felt his unmoving chest, seen the psychopomp hawk coming for his soul.

Just the memory sent a faint chill through her body, even over the warm smooth tingle of her pills. Ugh. Nope, not walking farther down that memory lane. She shifted in her seat and focused back on the proceedings. Everyone else was watching the front of the room, too. They wouldn’t notice if she just sent Terrible a quick text, not if she was subtle about it. Just a little “LY,” so he knew she was thinking of him and loved him.

“Cassandra Denise Benz is guilty of using her unlawful access to the City of Eternity in order to enable the Lamaru to enter it, thereby causing the deaths of Church employees Bradley Randall, Bruce White, Jose Pulido, and Walter Ross, as well as the destruction of an uncounted number of spirits and the escape of more.”

Chess started reaching for her bag to grab her phone as Elder Judge McHugh permitted himself a tiny shake of his head. “The punishment for that crime against Truth, against life, and against the Church of Real Truth, is one hundred years in spirit prison number seven.”

Chess’s hand froze over her bag. Holy shit. That was a hefty fucking sentence. She’d never heard of one so high for a single crime, and she guessed she wasn’t alone in that, because gasps rippled through the tiny crowd.

She’d never thought she’d feel sympathy for Cassie Benz, either, but the way Cassie’s face went pale with shock—with fear—sent an unwilling stab of it through her just the same. Cassie’s dismay transmitted itself to her, too; she felt it like nausea deep in her gut, a twisting sensation of unease that penetrated her burgeoning high. That was bullshit—wait. That was what she’d felt a minute ago, thinking of the night Terrible was shot. Had that been her memories, or Cassie’s dismay?

A woman in the front row had started crying when Elder Judge McHugh pronounced Cassie’s death sentence, and had continued crying as the other crimes and sentences were read. Was it her unhappiness making Chess’s skin feel overly sensitive, her grief causing the faint sickness?

No. No, because it wasn’t grief at all. It was something else, something that felt like black magic, like bad magic and evil, curling around Chess where she sat. Curling around all of them, because even as she realized it, Scribing Elder Freeman—who had started to speak again—paused and started to look up from the parchment, and Elder Judge McHugh turned his eyes toward the rear door to Chess’s right. Shit, that couldn’t be a good sign—

The blast knocked her out of her seat, knocked the breath out of her body and made her ears ring. For a second that was all she heard, that ringing, loud and painful as her vision blurred and her eyes stung. Then screams broke through the ringing, screams and shouts and the sound of chips of plaster falling from the ceiling, shards of glass hitting the floor.

Chess managed to lift her head. A few quick blinks cleared her vision enough to see shapes moving, people feeling their way through the clouds of dust in the air. Heading for the exits. Escaping from the—escaping. Shit, Cassie.

Her neck gave an irritated protest when she turned her head. She ignored it. Cassie Benz was in that courtroom, and Chess was damned if she was going to let Cassie use that explosion—was it a bomb? A gas leak? What?—to escape the building and her sentences.

Good thing Cassie’s sentencing hadn’t drawn much of a crowd. Chess caught a glimpse of Cassie’s head—those roots were identifiable even under a coating of grayish dust—ducking down and moving toward the door on the left, the furthest away from the row of Elders and most of the shoving, crying onlookers.

No way was Cassie getting out of there. Chess crouched down, too, fighting the pain shooting up from her right knee and left hip. The aisle was only a few seats down; once she made it there, she could run straight for Cassie, and hopefully tackle her before she reached the door.

Of course, that required the other people in the room to get out of the damn way. Two or three bodies littered the floor—not dead bodies, thankfully, there weren’t any ghosts rising from them, but wounded bodies, bodies from which moans and whimpers were beginning to rise.

It also required that heroic rescuers not burst into the room to start grabbing people and generally clogging the empty floorspace. No sooner had she stumbled into the aisle than what seemed like a dozen people did exactly that. Hands pawed at her t-shirt, her arms; she brushed them off and kept moving, but lost sight of Cassie in the crowd. Damn it, no. All the old anger came roaring back: the memory of Cassie’s face as she taunted Chess about the magical binding Chess had been placed under that meant Chess would have to answer Cassie’s questions; Cassie’s vicious smile as she stabbed Chess in the neck with a Dream-loaded needle; Cassie’s voice masquerading as Chess’s, as Cassie uttered an incantation to break the wards on the doors of the City of Eternity, thus allowing the Lamaru in to wreak havoc. Cassie’s fake sniffles as she asked Chess, “How did you deal with it, when it happened to you?”

All of those memories in a furious rush, and her right hand wrapped itself in a fist, eager to crush Cassie’s nose beneath it again.

She pushed through the bodies, ignored their anxious questions and hopeful hands. Cassie was still in the room, she could feel it. All the doors were filling with Church employees and citizens trying to help; Cassie wouldn’t be able to slip out quite as easily.

Unless some of those citizens were Lamaru in disguise, or whoever it was who’d set off the bomb—if it was a bomb. Chess didn’t want to consider either of those possibilities at the moment, not when she could just ask Cassie about it herself.

There. Another glimpse of that dusty frizz, snaking its way through the growing sea of heads. Chess started to point, opened her mouth to yell, but before she could finish either movement energy raced up her arms and through her body, the electric itch of ghost energy. Someone had died.

Maybe more than one someone, in fact, because that energy was strong, more intense than one ghost would normally be. Fuck. A fresh ghost—or two, or three—angry and ready to kill, and a crowd of innocent citizens, and a bunch of Legal Elders with no equipment, no graveyard dirt or herbs or anything else they needed.

And the screams coming from the other side of the room told her that most of the people near the ghost weren’t Church employees, anyway.

…aaaaaand that’s it! For now, anyway. I’m going to try to get another excerpt up soon, and of course I’ll have more information as we go along. I really hope you guys liked it and are as excited for this book as I am!!

(The title is still tentative, but I’m pretty confident about it.)

Like I said last week, I’m trying to post at least every Wednesday, so I will see you next week if not sooner. I love you all, and we are getting through this together.