Chapter 229: The Truth, Can You Hear It?
.
"Was that true?" asked Maddie, grasping at Jazz's hands.
"Was what true?" asked Jazz. "Like, I'm sure you've heard a bunch of stuff since we last spoke. You're going to have to be more specific."
"That if we died," she gestured at herself and Jack, "your brother would become a mass murderer."
"Oh. This is about Dan. And… No? Probably not. Anymore."
"Jazz."
Jazz shrugged. "Dan had to take a Stygian oath, just like everyone else who testified, right? You know everything he said was true."
Jack cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but, uh. I'm just concerned that you're hanging out with a serial killer. An admitted serial killer. Even if he is sort of… related."
"Dad." The word was clipped, annoyed.
Jack waved his hands. "A serial killer. Why are they even letting him walk around? I was beginning to get the impression that there were actual laws here."
Jazz tipped her head back and groaned. "There are, and I don't want to have to explain to you how ridiculous it is to try to arrest someone for crimes that didn't happen."
This assertion made Maddie blink. "He admitted to them!"
"Yes," said Jazz, "again, they didn't happen. Even if we were in the same timeline, most of them wouldn't happen for years, yet. You can't go around arresting people for stuff they didn't do, even if they remember doing it!" She closed her eyes and leaned back. "I'm not Dan's biggest fan, either, but can we just say that he has issues that he's getting help for and move on."
"Who is he getting help from?" pressed Maddie.
"Goddess of death," said Jazz, in the most bored tone imaginable.
Maddie choked.
"I'm sorry," said Jazz, "that was mean." She leaned forward again and rubbed her temples. "She's not literally the goddess of death. That's not a thing, as far as I can tell… Not that people don't pretend, but… I'm just. Frustrated. By everything."
Including you, went unsaid, but Maddie could still hear it.
"She's, um, the sister of Clockwork, Danny's… Guardian."
That description was followed with a wince.
.
.
.
"Hemlock, what do I do if I want to give more testimony?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"What if I want to give more testimony?" Danny shifted. "I think I could have handled some of the questions I was asked better, and I think I should clarify about some things."
"Testimony about what?" asked Hemlock, still visibly taken aback. "What kind of testimony?"
"Well," said Danny, trying not to pick at the hem of his tunic. "I didn't mention that we had a contract? A Stygian contract. It was before I told them who I was, and I said, I said that I'd help get everyone out of my lair, and in return they'd destroy all their weapons and inventions that violated Taboo and the blueprints for them, and they would never make any more. They agreed to it. That should show something, right? I couldn't say anything about it before, because then they'd know that they made more than just the Mortifier, and, well…" Danny shrugged. "I couldn't do that."
The shrug was deliberate. An attempt to make it seem like he cared less than he really did. He knew Hemlock saw right through him, and Hemlock didn't even know him that well.
"I can't bring you back as a witness," said Hemlock.
Danny nodded. He'd expected that. It didn't make him feel any better. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to squeeze it in frustration. His nails were getting long enough for that to hurt. He needed to cut them.
"But what I can do," continued the advocate, "is bring it up when we question other witnesses who would know about it. I assume that includes your entire class, as well as your parents?"
"Yeah," said Danny. "I'm not one hundred percent sure they all understood the significance, though."
Hemlock shifted through a pile of transcripts. "I believe I recall a few of them referencing a deal or an agreement, but it slipped my mind. Let me see."
Danny sighed, letting his shoulders relax. Alright. So, there was a workaround, even if he had been stupid about it.
"My concern about this is that our opponents may use it to argue that your parents did know that what they'd done was wrong. Their advocates may have advised them against bringing it up for this very reason."
"Can't you send them a letter or something? Asking?"
"I could," said Hemlock. "But there are rules about what we can send and what we can expect back."
"Shouldn't this count as exculpatory evidence?"
"I am not entirely sure the concept was included in the rules for this trial," said Hemlock. "There is a reason for the speed at which the initial committee usually occurs. It is difficult to create an entirely fair system in only a few weeks."
"But we started from the American justice system, didn't we?"
"Yes, a system that has been two hundred years in the making, even ignoring all the work it built off in the first place. We didn't have the time to argue for or against every little rule… And, generally, the things we couldn't argue about couldn't be put in. The other committee members wouldn't allow it. In some cases, I wouldn't allow it." Hemlock smiled wanly at Danny. "If you were allowed to sit in, you most likely would have noticed it by now. We neglected to put in a rule against leading witnesses."
"Oh," said Danny. "That must be causing problems."
"A few," agreed Hemlock. "But the advocates are learning to cope quickly, including the witness advocates – Although none of that stops the leading itself, I'm afraid."
Danny nodded. "And, um. Do you know if anyone knows about Damien yet?"
"Excuse me, who?"
"My sibling-by-theft who I just revived the other day. Or night? A few hours ago, anyway. Sorry, not quite sure how to divide time, here."
Hemlock leaned back in his chair. "I think," he said, after a few seconds, "that you should tell me the entire story of your journey, from when you walked into your school gymnasium until now, with as much accuracy as possible."
"That's going to take a while," said Danny.
"I'll have your meals sent in."
.
.
.
"Alright," said Hemlock, abruptly. "Alright. I already knew about Dan, but… You say Vlad made you not one sibling-by-theft, but five? And he sent them to fight you, even though they were on the verge of destabilizing?"
"Yes," said Danny. "I mean, I think he was trying to find a way to stabilize them… At least the 'perfect' one, but he did do that." He shook his head, trying to understand why he was defending Vlad and coming up empty. "I know that's bad from a human perspective, but I thought theft-families were, you know, a thing."
"Oh, Ancients," said Hemlock.
"I'm not sure that's a good thing to say while they're in the building," said Danny. "I've never gotten a straight answer about whether or not they can hear it."
Hemlock gave him an undecipherable look. "It isn't unusual, no," he said, finally. "But to send them to fight you like that, and to create such a large number is. It speaks poorly of him, and of any relationship he may have with you."
"I thought him being a fruitloop who attacks me all the time already did that."
Hemlock leaned forward, his elbows on the table, fingers steepled and pressed against his lips as he squeezed shut his eyes. "Let's—Let's start from the beginning."
.
.
.
Three Phantoms and one of whatever Dan was currently going by sat in a circle around an open jar. The contents pulsed.
"So," said Danny, "who do you think this is?"
Damien looked up, mildly scandalized and broadcasting the emotion. "You don't know?"
"No," said Danny. "Sorry."
"Don't give him that," said Ellie, poking her younger brother in the side. "You don't know, either."
Silence again.
"Why am I even here?" asked Dan.
"Because they didn't call you back for questioning like they did for literally everyone else and you're also hiding from Nephthys."
"I am not hiding," said Dan.
Danny rubbed the sole of his foot, half tuning out Ellie's needling of Dan. It didn't hurt any more, but he imagined that he could feel the edges of Desiree's illusion, nonetheless. The idea that his foot was glass underneath the illusion was… distracting. Even when he had plenty of things to distract him from that. Like the trial. And Dan. And his mail, that he was ignoring. And reviving the rest of his siblings by theft.
And whatever Dan was trying to do with that handful of ectoplasm over Ellie's head.
"Dan," he said. "Please don't drip that on Ellie. The last time I looked, all of the washers and dryers were reserved for days in advance."
"Four days?!" asked Ellie, dramatically falling back.
"For days," confirmed Danny, gravely.
"Wait," said Damien. "Are you saying, 'for days' or 'four days?'"
Danny blinked. "You know what? I think I'm done for right now. I'm taking a nap."
.
.
.
"I believe we have enough information to proceed at this point," said Mrs. Ormolu, calmly. "Shall I begin?"
There was a soft murmur of assent from the other jurors, punctuated by the crackling of Firelight's flames.
"Alright. Let's start with an easy one. Does anyone believe that the Fentons were aware of Danny's nature prior to him revealing himself?"
"No," said Firelight. "But they should have."
"It isn't exactly obvious," said Tristan Charry, the man from Harmony. "I noticed when Byron started to pick up ghostly things, but it took a while, and we were friendly with ghosts. He wasn't hiding."
"Be that as it may," said Mrs. Ormolu, "that is a different discussion. Right now, we are only trying to eliminate the charge that the Fentons knowingly targeted their own child. Does anyone think they did? Alright, then. We can move on." She made a note on the list to her side. "Now we can talk about whether or not they should have known."
.
.
.
"I don't think they should be found guilty of violating a law they didn't know anything about, that they couldn't have known about, that's all," said Connie, feeling worn. She didn't know how she'd progressed so quickly from being fearful of these beings to wanting to throw down with Lacuna with nothing but her bare hands. But she had.
Familiarity bred contempt, or something like that.
"Ignorance of the law is no excuse," intoned Lacuna.
"Yeah, and Leviticus said that, and we all know his most famous line."
"We do?" asked Ryu.
Oh, right. Connie had forgotten to take into account the ghost dragon of indeterminate age when she said that. "Never mind," she said. "It isn't important. Anyway, Amity Park isn't even in the Ghost Zone. Shouldn't that be a jurisdictional problem for at least half of this?"
"Infinite Realms," corrected the Director.
"Hush, you," said Mrs. Holiday, lightly smacking him.
"I'm not sure," mused Mrs. Ormolu. "Perhaps we should vote on that. There's more than enough after they arrived in the Realms for us to debate on."
.
.
.
"I can't say I follow the science," said Mrs. Holiday, nibbling on the end of her pencil, "but it sounds like they weren't really trying to make the shadows in Danny's lair."
"No," said the Lunch Lady, more loudly than was warranted, "but they were trying to," the ghost veered into one of the many languages of the dead. "That's the IMPORTANT part! And STOP EATING that! It isn't healthy!"
"Oh, yes, I see. That makes more sense. The means not the ends."
"For the humans, please?" said Mr. Marsh, who had managed to acquire a bag of ice for his raging headache. He should never have agreed to do this. He was certain he'd been up for more than twenty-four hours, and he hadn't seen his son in longer than that. Which is the whole reason he came in the first place.
"Allow me!" said the Dairy King, beaming. "The creation of the shadows doesn't matter. If they just gave him the knowledge, it would be fine! What matters is how they were created, doncha know? What they did was touch the connection between Danny and his lair."
"That is very different," agreed Ryu.
"It's like," started Mrs. Holiday, "hm. How to put this? It hasn't been that long since I've been human, and still…" She trailed off, frowning. "It's like touching a person's soul… Except humans can't literally do that. The feeling isn't quite adjacent to, ah, that. Mmm. Brain surgery, but if you didn't agree?"
"Mind affecting, in any case," said the Director, nodding. "I have no lair myself, but I can feel my theater, and if someone did to that connection what was done to Phantom…" The ghost's skin crawled. Literally. It moved over his pseudo-flesh in rippling waves.
"Wait, wait," said Connie. "What's the difference between that and, ugh, overshadowing? Or whatever Undergrowth or whatever his name was? I distinctly recall seeing someone stabbed in the back of the head and turned into a plant zombie."
"Undergrowth WAS taken by the Observants," said the Lunch Lady. "I fought him once! His presumably poisonous plants were no match for me peerless stomach! I made salad of him!"
"It was more like he didn't notice her fightin' his minions," said the Dairy King, leaning over to confide in Connie. "But she isn't wrong. Undergrowth is widely disliked, and the only reason he wasn't punished long ago is that he's powerful!"
"Mostly because he acts in such a way," said Firelight.
"And overshadowing?" prompted Connie.
"It does not change you," said Lacuna.
"What?"
"She means overshadowing. Overshadowing can't change a person's mind," said the Director. "Many ghosts still consider it to be dancing at the edge of Taboo."
"The courts never have," said Ryu. "It is mind control that is more of a grey area. And possession, certainly."
"What's the difference?" asked Connie.
.
.
.
One excruciating conversation and several increasingly tangled metaphors later, Connie was still confused about the differences between overshadowing, mind control, and possession. Especially given that the ghosts went off on a tangent about how liminal spirits were affected by overshadowing. By the end, all she was convinced of was that the ghosts believed there was a difference.
Tristan had been taking notes. She leaned over to see that they were all about liminals, and 'if it would affect the younger kids.'
Connie decided that, no, actually, she didn't want to know. Not now, when there were so many other things to know bouncing around her head all unmoored.
Alright. So, ghosts thought overshadowing was morally grey, but not illegal. Unlike whatever Jack and Maddie did, which was reportedly painful, but didn't seem to have had any lasting effects on Danny, other than the shadows in his lair.
Connie wasn't sure she wanted to condemn Jack and Maddie to the mercy of ghost law for any of their crimes. Even if the trial had convinced her they were neglectful and possibly abusive. Gosh, the longer she was here, the more this all seemed like a mistake.
"As a human," said Mrs. Ormolu, "I don't entirely understand all that." She paused. "And if it were not explained to me, I do not think I could understand the Taboo of Sacrilege. Or even realize that it existed at all, if it were not pointed out."
"I agree," said Tristan, "and I live in a ghost's lair!"
The other humans agreed, making the count on the matter five to seven.
Mrs. Holiday made a face. "I had to have it explained to me just now, myself," she said, "and I couldn't put it in human terms easily. I have to agree. Even if they are ghost researchers, they couldn't have known how wrong that was."
"They were trying to use it to trap him," argued the Director. "They knew it did something."
"They also did not believe that ghosts could feel emotion at all, or possess souls," said Firelight. "That is hardly a glowing recommendation."
"No," said Mrs. Ormolu, "but we are trying to determine how much malice was involved in their actions."
"Malice was the motivator for their actions, and the actions that led to them even being in Danny's lair," said Firelight. "Their aim was to cause pain. Why should the amount of pain matter?"
.
.
.
"At least, at minimum," said Tristan, "they're guilty of neglect, right? Can we jump to that one? Just for something we can all agree on. I know we agreed on it before," he added, referencing his earlier attempt at broaching the subject, prior to the closing arguments.
Connie started to nod, then stopped. "Is child neglect even one of the charges?" she asked. She'd seen the list, they all had, but it was long, and they'd been somewhat more interested in reading the overall rules of the trial itself, which had read, at least to Connie, as though someone had tried to recreate a legal system from overwrought and inaccurate courtroom dramas while adding in a dozen more lawyers and extra chaos sauce.
But what did Connie know? She was only a journalist.
"Actually," said Mrs. Ormolu, "no."
"What?" said Eric Marsh, his voice falling flat.
"Why would there be?" asked Ryu. "Unless both parties bring it to them, or a case is referred to them by a Realm, they really only consider matters of Taboo, and custody hearings, in the case that the Taboo breakers have a child. At least, that is my understanding. I confess, I have involved myself in such things only rarely."
"That's about right," said the Dairy King.
"Okay," said Connie, slowly. "So, the only things we're really looking at them for are whether or not they broke Taboo… But there are only two places they did that, right? So, what's with the giant list?"
"The circumstances under which they broke Taboo, I believe," said Mrs. Ormolu. "See, there are different option for whether they knew Danny's true nature, whether they should have known, whether we believe the fact that he's their biological child should be taken into account, whether the fact that he is a child should be taken into account, etcetera and combinations thereof. Oh, and who is guilty of what. I suppose we all do believe that they both should have known Danny was liminal, or at least that he had become ghostly in nature, however, so that narrows our options significantly once again."
.
"Don't you remember what the will-o-the-wisps said?" asked Firelight, annoyed. "She tried to shoot him again."
"Yes, but after that they managed to make a deal with Danny, yes?" said the Dairy King. "I think perhaps they only needed a push to the truth. Or a shove, in their case. Danny needed a nudge himself, to see that we were not all bad, doncha know?"
"Because the Fenton's raised him that way."
.
.
.
"We agree, then?" asked Mrs. Ormolu, managing to sound both utterly exhausted and surprised. Her voice was just the slightest bit hoarse.
There was silence around the table as the jurors regarded each other with unease. There had not been another fight, but it had been a near thing.
"Let's try this again." Mrs. Ormolu, sliding a piece of paper to the center of the table. "In interest of me not having to reread this again, say aye if you agree with the charges written here."
