Persephone Alcmedi 00 - Wicked Circle

silence, to Mero, was a sign. “Do you have information about this?”
    Nonplussed, the Excelsior said, “She claims to be the Lustrata, though the witches remain divided in this matter. She must not be slain. At least, not yet.”
    Why didn’t he tell me this? Mero wondered.
    Heldridge paced impatiently away from the camera. He spun back. “Do you still hear me? A witch has sway over your Northeastern Quarterlord.” His countenance was a confident mask, but his pacing and tone belied apprehension. His arms spread wide. “You do understand that my actions were merely to protect my Quarterlord and release him from her grasp?”
    “He would have us see him as a defender, and be blind to his lawbreaking,” Mero mused.
    “He would prefer,” Giovanni added, “advancement of his position. Exposing a weak Quarterlord who begs replacing creates a chain of repositioning.”
    On-screen, Heldridge shifted his weight nervously. “My Lord Excelsior?”
    Mero could see that Heldridge was about to do something desperate. Or stupid. He opened his mouth to make his own suggestion—
    “I beseech you!” Heldridge blurted. “Release the shabbubitum. Send them to the Northeastern Quarterlord. You will find that my claim is true.”
    Meroveus could not believe his ears. Heldridge had risked his own destruction to plead his case, but making this absurd proposal demonstrated only panic. Mero swiveled his chair toward the back of the theater and made a steeple with his fingertips. “Heldridge is of Menessos’s line,” he offered, “yet the young master has not spoken the name of his Maker. It suggests disassociation between them. Menessos allowed Heldridge to leave him and become his own master, but recently Menessos transferred his haven from Chicago to Cleveland—”
    “A matter he told this court of only after the fact,” Giovanni interjected.
    “He is now based only a few miles from the location of Heldridge’s haven,” Mero continued. “Perhaps Heldridge seeks distance, as many sons seek from their fathers. It seems a matter between the two of them. I suggest you remove the bounty on Heldridge, set him free, and let Menessos deal with him.”
    “Ha!” Giovanni barked. “It was Menessos’s Erus Veneficus that was the target. He will not be impartial if he is to judge Heldridge!”
    “Heldridge has admitted his crime. What need of impartiality is there?”
    Giovanni cleared his throat, a sound like gravel in a blender. “It has been centuries since anyone has dared invoke the name of the shabbubitum to this court, and according to the old accounts, over two millennia since they walked the earth.” His eyes flicked downward and he frowned thoughtfully.
    Mero knew the dramatics were a bad sign. He started to interrupt, but on-screen Heldridge was screaming and waving his arms. The Excelsior had obviously turned the volume down.
    “Their truth-finding abilities are legendary,” Giovanni said. “Perhaps we need the rectitude attributed to those three bitches. Perhaps it is time we recover the precision our justice had in antiquity.” He lifted his gaze. “I say send for them.”
    “You’re mad,” Mero whispered.
    Giovanni spoke, but not to Mero. “Give Heldridge what he wants. Unshackle the shabbubitum. Subject him to their methods, then, if he’s honest, send them to Menessos.”
    Mero shifted, uncomfortable in his chair. “Your eagerness gives me caution, Giovanni. The shabbubitum were bound for a reason.”
    “This young fool has requested it!”
    “It seems overindulgence to exploit their unique skills upon a task such as this.” Mero had to regain the advantage. Nothing good would come of the Excelsior consenting to this ludicrous idea. “Heavy-handed wastefulness would not reflect well upon our Lord.”
    Giovanni tilted his head. “This is an opportunity. Heldridge has opened the door, Mero, and I long to see what the great Menessos has hidden behind it.” Giovanni leaned forward. “Don’t you?”
    “I do not wish to tread where the shabbubitum run free.” Eager to drive his point home, Mero sat straighter and said, “They are dangerous, sentient beings, not domesticated animals that can be made to perform tricks. Treating them as such would be very unwise. Better to leave them where they are.”
    Guistini stood, facing the darkness surrounding the Excelsior. “For long decades Menessos has puzzled us all. He refused the very position you fill so well, Excelsior.” The vampire