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shared earlier made Ruis’s whole body tighten.
    Banished.
    Â 
 
Ailim waited in the large corridor until the Council Herald waddled to the double Earthoakwood doors next to her and consulted a scroll mounted behind glass next to the threshold.
    â€œProspective GrandLady D’SilverFir.” His sonorous voice rolled through a hall filled with the dim emptiness of evening.
    Ailim grimaced at his pomposity and rose. “I am present.”
    A patter of feet attracted her attention, and she looked down the hall to see GreatLady D’Holly exiting from the Council chamber by the unofficial door near the end of the corridor. She headed for the back exit of the building. GreatLady D’Vine, who had previously left the chamber, passed D’Holly and returned to the Council room by the same door.
    The Herald ostentatiously swept the main doors open for Ailim with the help of Tinne Holly from the inside. He joined her in the passageway. She heard steady metallic clanks and caught a brief glimpse of a red-shirted figure, Ruis Elder, being marched out of the unofficial door in chains.
    Her stomach clenched. Chains. Banished or death, he had said of his fate. She wondered which it would be, and prayed that he would live. Bonded together in the face of their own personal adversities, they’d shared hopes and fears.
    She heard the sound of a blow on flesh and a surprised grunt of pain. Ailim leveled a stare at the Herald. “While they are in this building, the Council guards are under your authority. Do they make a point of beating a man before he is executed?”
    The Herald’s composure seemed to desert him. “Elder is banished, Lady, not to be executed. Execution would have been administered in the courtyard—”
    â€œI am a judge of Celta. I do not accept the beating of prisoners under restraint.” Ailim pivoted on her heel and marched down the hall.
    Tinne Holly kept up with her. The Herald puffed behind them, protesting, “The Council awaits!”
    She shouldn’t keep the entire FirstFamilies Council waiting, but simple justice demanded that she not allow Ruis Elder to be harmed. The idea sickened her.
    Halt! she sent mentally. Nothing happened. As she caught a rushed breath, Ailim realized it was because of Ruis Elder’s Nullness.
    The sounds of a scuffle and more blows made Ailim break into a trot. As she rounded the corner she saw two guards holding Ruis and another with his fist raised. A Petty guardsman stood by, grinning.
    â€œWhat’s going on here?” she demanded.
    The Petty guardsman tensed, then composed his face into an ingratiating smile. “Nothin’ to worry your head about, M’Lady.” He hitched his belt up his big belly.
    A hiss of irritation escaped Ailim. Holly raised his eyebrows. Ruis Elder looked bored, despite tousled hair, a red bruise on one high cheekbone, and a rivulet of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
    â€œRelease him at once!” she ordered the two holding Ruis. They dropped his arms and shuffled away. Ruis straightened.
    The grin faded from the officer’s face. “M’Lady—”
    â€œD’SilverFir,” Tinne said softly.
    â€œJudge SilverFir,” panted the Herald, catching up with them, “allow me to handle this.”
    The Petty guard’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut. He gulped. The other guards faded into the shadows. Ruis stood with casual grace, adjusting his shirt cuffs, arching his brows at the scene before him.
    The Herald whirled toward the Petty guardsman. “I’ll have your chevron for this! All of you, listen to me, you will . . .”
    The others seemed to hear his fine tirade, but his voice faded from Ailim’s ears as her gaze locked with Ruis Elder’s.
    He bowed to her. His blasé manner was a mask well mastered, but his eyes leapt with wild flames of intense vitality, recklessness. His glance seemed to dare her to take