Chapter Eighteen

It was dark when Jamie woke, and cold. Not unusual circumstances during his last few days on the road. He grimaced and tried to remember where he had made camp. It had been raining so hard all day, but he was dry so he must have found –

Jamie sat up abruptly. Or tried to. His head hit a something hard with a resounding clang of bone on metal. He collapsed once more and opened his eyes, rubbing at the bump already swelling on his forehead. Squinting he made out the metal ceiling panel he had managed to head butt. A cursory glance around had him rolling out of the dismal upper cot of a bunk bed and scrambling toward the bars spanning the cell door. A light at the end of the corridor outside showed an empty guard post.

He blinked and squinted back into the dark of the cell, his eyelashes sticking together irritably. Brushing a hand across his face, Jamie felt the drag of grime caked to his face and the memories tumbled back. Running into the forest after Sophie, the screaming guards, blood everywhere. He prodded his own body warily, but found nothing more serious than some bruising. As his eyes adjusted, he found the Shadow Mage from before, with the strange white hair asleep on the bottom cot of the bunk. Other than that, the room had a dented pot to serve as a toilet. No Sophie.

Jamie pressed his face back to the bars, squinting against the dim light of the far off guard post in an effort to see into the darkness of neighbouring cells. Dim figures lounged on floors and other beds. The entire place reeked of old urine and sweat. A jail of some sort, though he didn't know where.

Pushing himself away from the bars, Jamie stalked back across the small cell and pulled the mage from his bed.

Jack woke to the pain of hitting a cold floor. For one terrible moment after opening his eyes, he thought he was back in Pitch's subterranean lair. But the flickering light from beyond the cell bars, coupled with the shabby bunk suggested otherwise. As did the boy looming over him in the dark cell. Sophie's brother, Jamie, who had put them in this whole mess to start with.

Jack scowled and sat up.

"Where are we?" Jamie demanded as Jack sat himself down on his bunk and started working kinks out of his muscles.

"How should I know?" Jack grumbled, eyes wandering the room and noting its barrenness. His staff was nowhere to be seen, but that was hardly surprising.

"You're a – "

"Shadow Mage," Jack finished lamely, glowering back at the boy. "Thanks for that, nothing like being arrested on baseless charges."

"Baseless!" Jamie shouted, rage written across his features. "My sister comes down with some Shadow born disease, disappears, and then shows up weeks later with you!"

"Well, obviously I'm a Shadow Mage, then," Jack snapped already beyond finished with the conversation. He was sore, tired, and had gone from one prison right into another. He had friends and family whose lives depended on him. Aster...

His throat closed as he thought of his one-time lover. Curling up on the ratty cot that was still far better than the hanging cage Pitch had put him in, Jack wrapped his arms around himself and did his best to ignore the anger filled silence stewing at his back.

Some time later – hours or minutes, it was hard to tell with no windows – Jack heard the rattle of keys at the door to their cell. Jamie vaulted off the top bunk like someone had lit a fire up there and raced over to the door.

"There's been some kind of mistake," the kid blurted out, a frantic edge to his tone. Jack wanted to tell the kid to shut up. He had been in his share of prisons and the guards never listened to that kind of thing. "I wasn't involved in this. You can't keep me here with this guy!"

The guard raised a hand and Jack realised what was about to happen a split second before the hand came down hard backhand across Jamie's face. Jack winced in sympathy. The kid might be a mouthy, assuming brat, but that was overly harsh. And if they were treating them this harshly before even a hearing, something very serious was going on and they were going to be blamed for it.

"You think you're the first lying worm we've had here try that line?" the guard asked, his tone worrying light. "Come quietly to your hearing, now, and we'll see just what you are or aren't involved in."

"My sister! Where is sh – "

Another backhand, this one snapping hard and echoing down the hall, and Jamie was on the ground, braced by shaking arms. Jack rose from the cot.

"How about you stop beating potentially innocent people and take us to our Moon-damned hearing," Jack snapped, hauling Jamie up by his armpits.

The guard sneered, but they were cuffed by the mage that had hovered unseen a few steps behind the guard and prodded down the hall and into a large room. The Council of Magi was seated in full number around them, with the High Mages at a central dais. The only member not present was the Archmage himself and Jack felt his stomach clench. This was beyond simple Shadow Mage charges...

"State your names for the council," a young mage with the marks of the Water School adorning his robes. Too young to be a council member, but obviously highly ranking in the mage clerks recording the hearing.

"Jamie Bennett," a small voice came from Jack's left and he looked over to see Jamie had already started swelling and purpling in his cheeks. "I'm a baker from Userees," the kid finished, staring flatly at the High Mages. Apparently he had finally realised how much trouble they were in.

"Jack Frost, Winter Mage," Jack stated, ignoring the furious glare Jamie shot at him. "No permanent location."

"You have been brought before the council for the murder of four soldiers and one War Mage, the summoning or a Nightmare, use of Shadow Magic, kidnapping, and possible involvement in the death of the Archmage," the Water Mage continued. With each charge Jack felt more and more out of his depths. "How do you wish to plead?"

"Not guilty," Jamie and Jack declared in unison.

"I request a trial by truth spell," Jack said, ignoring the muttering that crossed the council. Truth spells were tricky, required multiple mages working in unison. It was also considered a violation of the rights of the accused to be utilised without request. But at a trial of this magnitude, he doubted they would deny him.

"Jamie Bennett, do you agree to the use of a truth spell upon your person?" the Water Mage inquired.

Jamie was silent, his face white as chalk. For a brief moment, his eyes flicked over and locked with Jack's. The boy looked terrified and for a long moment Jack worried that Jamie would say no and they would have to talk their way out. But the boy nodded.

"We require verbal consent," the mage said, tone verging on irritation.

"I agree to the use of a truth spell," Jamie replied, voice wavering and pained.

"Very well," the High Fire Mage said, standing from his seat among the other High Mages. "You will be returned to your cell for the night. This trial will reconvene in the morning when we have completed requirements for the spell."

"Can I see my sister?" Jamie blurted out and the High Mage turned his gaze on Jamie.

"The young child brought in with you?" The High Mage said, his tone implying that no answer was necessary. "Rest assured that she is being cared for. The charges laid on you, however, deny you any visitation rights from civilians."

Jamie looked like he might protest and Jack shifted until he could elbow the other boy in the ribs. Jamie coughed and Jack leaned over.

"If you want to avoid more bruises, you'll keep your mouth shut," he hissed in the brunette's ear as the other glared at him. "As far as everyone in this room is concerned we're guilty."

Jamie looked like he wanted to protest, but the guards were at their sides again and pushing them back toward the doors they had entered through. To Jack's relief, his cellmate kept his mouth shut until they were back in their cell, where he proceeded to curl up in his bunk and ignore Jack entirely.

Jack flung himself into his own bunk and tried to sleep. It would at least pass the time.

The fog lay thick across the Bogwood, muffling the sounds of soldiers and mages moving about in the dark. The flickering lights from the fires was muted and Jack shivered as the cool moisture clung to his clothes. It was moments like these that made him miss his warm, comfortable rooms back at the Tower. More than once he had daydreamed about giving up and returning to them.

But he was past the point of no return. Leaving now would be desertion and the war was going poorly enough that such charges would lead to a lengthy prison sentence. And he would have to face his father as a coward and a failed War Mage. He had come not only to fight for Manen, but to prove that even a lowly Winter Mage could be a warrior. His magic may be unpredictable and weak at best, but it was useful. If it was the last thing he did he was going to show how useful a mage he could be. Not everything was about power.

Jack was pulled from his miserable thoughts by a commotion over at the camp borders. Several soldiers sprinted away from the perimeter only to return less than a minute later trailed by the highest ranking War Mages in the camp. Either there was a major threat on hand, or someone important had arrived. Since no one else was mobilising and most just looked either confused or vaguely curious, Jack assumed the latter.

Standing up from his seat, he wandered off to another fire in search of information. Seating himself beside another lower ranked War Mage, Jack listened in on the camp gossip.

"Just arrived," one mage, a Fire School, muttered to another. "Must be worse than we thought if the High Mages are leaving the Tower. And here I thought things were looking up."

Others murmured in agreement, dark looks haunting their eyes.

"Who arrived?" Jack asked in a low whisper to the War Mage next to him.

"High Earth Mage," the other answered in equally hushed tones. "Rumour is he's here to work in the weapon forge. Maybe we'll stop loosing half our soldiers every time we send out patrols."

Jack barely managed to nod and grunt out a low sounds of agreement. His father, here in this camp out of all the encampments in this stupid swamp. The question was not whether his father knew he was here, but how long he could avoid the man in such close quarters.

"Moonlight, man, the news is more good than bad," the other laughed, slinging a friendly arm around Jack's shoulders. "You look like Pitch himself just got invited to dinner."

Jack forced himself to relax and laugh at the joke.

"Yeah, you're right," Jack said, hoping his cheer didn't sound too forced. "Can only get better from here."

His seat-mate grinned and opened his mouth. Before the reply could come out, the other's expression changed and all the mages around the fire jumped up and saluted stiffly. Jack rose and turned, already knowing what he would find at his back.

"Jack," Nicholas St. North said, his voice cracking as they looked at each other.

"Dad," Jack choked, ignoring the gasps from around the fire.

He stood and stared at his father, unsure of what would be considered proper in this situation. Nicholas decided for him, stepping forward and sweeping Jack into a tight hug.

Jack woke in his stale bunk and swept a hand across suspiciously damp eyes. He fervently hoped morning was not far off. He needed out of this cell.