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on best behavior.
    The first several cases were either quite clear-cut (the Watch having caught someone in the act of theft or mayhem)—or boring (quarrels between neighbors that had gotten to the point of being brought before the Court).
    Then something came up that made both Mags and Creed sit up and start paying attention.
    The first hint that matters were out of the ordinary was that a parade of five people trudged into the courtroom and took seats on the witness bench.
    Then an enormous man was brought into the dock in irons that looked like dainty bracelets on his massive wrists. He was incredibly muscular, with muscles like a stonecutter or a blacksmith, taller than both the Watch that were with him, coarse features and a bald pate. And yet, the man’s expression and body language were that of a terrified child.
    The man’s accuser came into the Court, and Mags took an instant dislike to him. Mags could read both his body languageand his surface thoughts, and what he read proclaimed this “Cobber Pellen” to be a bully and a liar. He looked as if he was someone who was accustomed to take what he wanted from those who were weaker than he was. Once he had been muscular, but now he was going to fat, with a round head and features that could have been considered handsome, except for the petulance of the mouth and the ugly glitter of his eyes. Both accuser and accused were positioned in front of the judge, and the accuser was the first to speak, according to the rules.
    â€œThis
animal
attacked me without no reason yer Honor!” Pellen proclaimed. “It shoulda never been ’llowed on the streets! It shoulda been locked up years agone! It’s
dangerous!
It nearly broke my arm!”
    All the while Pellen was proclaiming how “dangerous” the huge fellow was, all the man did was cower—which was a strange thing to see from someone who looked as if he earned his living by throwing rowdies out of taverns. But all that Mags could sense was fear . . . fear, and confusion.
    â€œAnd have you any witnesses?” the judge began, when he was interrupted by a shout from a ragged young woman who pushed her way into the court. Mags didn’t get more than an impression of a wild mop of curly brown hair, a whirlwind of ragged skirts and shawls, and clenched fists, before she was already at the front of the courtroom.
    â€œCobber Pellen’s a damn liar!” the woman shouted, and launched herself at him as if she was going to tear him to pieces with her bare hands. And the court erupted into chaos, with the Watch intervening between them, Cobber Pellen shouting one thing, the young woman shouting another, the five on the witness bench making a hasty exit from the room, and the bailiff trying to subdue Cobber as one of the Watch tried to subdue the woman.
    Mags considered wading in himself, but decided instead to keep an eye on the accused.
    Who was huddling in the corner, looking as if he was going to cry at any moment. There was something very odd going on here. The surface thoughts of the poor fellow were in chaos, and it was as if every single thought had to fight its way through treacle to come to the surface. It took Mags a moment to figure what was going on, and by then the bailiff and the Watch had separated the combatants and put them on opposite sides of the courtroom.
    The judge looked on with a neutral expression, but then, he was used to eruptions in the courtroom. This was
not
a neighborhood where people came meekly into the court and calmly dealt with their side of an issue. It was only the first time this week that a brawl had interrupted things here, and there were still four days to go before the week was over.
    By that point, Mags had gone from confusion to pity, because it was clear that the accused man was not at all right in the head. Whether he was born that way, or had been injured, he was, frankly, not fit to stand trial. But before he could