Even though there’s no one at the back of the room, the double doors swing open and a dozen people are led forward by black-cloaked members of the Ivory Guard. First among them is Jensen, who looks more like himself than the man we met in prison a few days ago—he’s been bathed and shaved, though he’s a little thinner than he was in my vision. An image of him cradling Boe in his arms flashes through my mind, and I bite the inside of my cheek almost hard enough to draw blood.

Most of the witnesses file into the bench behind the Grand Council, but Jensen sits on the opposite side of the room, in the front row. The wide aisle between the two groups seems like an impassable gulf.

“How would you like to proceed?” the Bone Charmer asks.

Our team exchanges glances.

“One moment, please,” Tessa says, motioning the rest of us toward her. The six of us huddle together around her chair to discuss. “Let’s save Jensen for last,” I whisper. “He deserves to hear what the others have to say so he can defend himself.”

Bram nods. “I agree.”

“Who should go first?” Tessa asks.

Niklas sighs. “I’m not sure it matters.”

And he’s right. I’ve turned the case over in my mind again and again, pored over the wording of the Kastelian law, and there isn’t a solution that ends well.

Unless Jensen claims he didn’t do it. But based on our conversation with him, he seems disinclined to lie. And the truth serum will make it impossible anyway.

Once we’ve finished talking, we settle back into our seats, and Tessa addresses the council. “We’ll interview the witnesses one at a time, and end with the accused.”

The morning tips into afternoon, and stuffy heat infuses the chamber. We’ve been at this for hours and haven’t learned anything new. Each witness points to the same basic facts: Jensen alleviated his child’s pain with magic he wasn’t authorized to use. The couple who approached Jensen and Boe on the trail testified that they heard the desperate screams of a child, but by the time they reached Boe, he was sitting calmly—seemingly pain-free—while his father healed his leg. I tried to push back in my questioning: Could it have been a different child screaming? Could Boe have been in shock? How can they really know for sure what Jensen did when they didn’t see it for themselves?

But it hardly makes a dent in the avalanche of testimony that follows.

Members of the Ivory Guard testify that the moment they began questioning Jensen, Boe proudly announced that his papa had fixed his leg and made the pain go away.