Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“I see. What a heinous act!” Grand Wizard Henkelman declared, staring sternly at me. “Especially since we know she used those pears to make lust-filled tarts that forced unsuspecting persons into copulation with inanimate objects which resulted in great personal pain in their private areas!”
I wanted to groan—great, just great. So he had gotten a splinter in his sausage. And it was clear he was going to hold it against me, even though it had been an accident.
“Please, Your Honor—” I began.
“Silence!” Grand Wizard Henkelman roared. “I’m ready to rule!”
“What? But you haven’t even heard my part yet!” I protested.
“All right—what have you to say for yourself, witch?” he demanded.
“What I said before—that the pears I took were on branches that hung over the path where I was walking,” I said. “I never climbed over the hedge and went onto Mr. er, Goremouth’s property. Also, I’ve been picking these pears for five years now and I’ve never even seen him around before—I thought the house he’s apparently living in was empty and deserted!”
I was hoping my explanation would clear my name but the head of The Council of Wisdom only glared harder.
“So, you not only admit to stealing the pears this year, you admit that you’ve been stealing them for the past five years as well?” he demanded. “This is outrageous!”
Uh-oh—clearly I had just made things worse for myself. What could I do to save this situation? Nothing, apparently, because Grand Wizard Henkelman tapped with his gavel again—BOOM-BOOM!—and declared,
“I’ve heard enough! I’m ready to rule. Since the plaintiff has admitted to her guilt—”
“Wait!” I exclaimed desperately.
“How dare you interrupt me in the middle of sentencing?” Henkelman shouted.
“Because…because…” I looked around the shadowy courtroom desperately and my eyes fastened on the Harpy lawyer. “Because I don’t have an attorney to speak for me!” I exclaimed, hoping against hope that this would work. “It’s not fair that the Ogre—Mr. Goremouth—has a lawyer and I don’t!”
“If you wanted an attorney present, you should have retained legal counsel, like Mr. Goremouth did,” the judge snapped.
“How could I?” I demanded. “The first I heard of this case was when the Harpy—er, Councilor Heketate—served me the papers which immediately caused me to vanish from Hidden Hollow and appear here, in this courtroom!”
I was afraid that Grand Wizard Henkelman would simply ignore my protests but he got a thoughtful look on his face.
“Very well—since you neglected to retain your own legal council, an attorney will be provided for you,” he said. “In fact, I know just the one! A Centaur who has one of the finest young legal minds in the entire magical world.”
“Oh, thank goodness!” I murmured, feeling the fist of tension that had gathered in the pit of my stomach unclenching just a bit.
But the next minute, I clenched up again, even harder. Because when the green door the judge had come from opened again, it was Chester the deaf Centaur I saw coming through. Was he really a lawyer? I guessed that he must be, but I was sure he’d been retired for ages. I had once heard another customer in the bakery saying he was over three hundred years old—magic users and Creatures tend to be long-lived. Even if he was a lawyer though, how could Henkelman describe him as “one of the finest young legal minds in the entire magical world?”
I guess maybe everyone seems young when you’re over five hundred years old yourself, I thought, remembering what Goody Albright had said about the advanced age of everyone who was on The Council of Wisdom.
“Hey, what’s all this—a trial?” the Centaur demanded, squinting up at the judge.
“Councilor Chester,” Grand Wizard Henkelman said importantly. “Welcome to my courtroom.”
“Eh?” Chester cocked his head to one side and looked confused.
“I said, WELCOME TO MY COURTROOM!” Henkelman bawled.
“Oh, yes.” Chester nodded vaguely. “A courtroom—so it is. I haven’t been in a courtroom in donkey’s years!”
“You have been called here to represent this young witch, who has stolen pears from this Ogre,” Henkelman told him.
“Eh? What now? She stole hairs from him?” Chester squinted at the Ogre across from us. “Looks hairy enough to me—she must not have stolen many!”
“No, no!”
The Grand Wizard looked irritated. He tapped his silver gavel on the podium once more but this time instead of producing a loud BOOM! it twisted in his hand and began to grow. A moment later it had become an old-fashioned ear trumpet with a wide silver bell on one end and a mouthpiece on the other to shout into. Henkelman tapped it again and it grew until it was long enough to reach from the top of the very tall judge’s bench all the way down to Chester’s ear. Then he shouted loudly,
“I said, you are here to represent this witch who stole the pears of this Ogre from the pear tree in his yard!”