Chapter 2.9 - In which Percy is threatened and accused

Percy

Month 12, Day 19, Saturday 8:00 p.m.

Percy cringed as Tennyson’s solicitor severed ties with him like a healer with limited resources cutting off a gangrenous limb. So much for representing both of them. Obviously, the man now thought Percy was too much of a liability.

He wished he could melt into the floor and disappear. If Mom was going to do this, why had she insisted that he and Tennyson come down to the station and give their statements in the first place?

“Vigilantism?” Mom’s voice dripped with incredulity. “Reckless endangerment? Are you out of your mind, Captain? My Percy isn’t prowling the streets looking for trouble. He’s a good boy who helps when he sees someone in need. Since when is that a crime?”

Captain Hay’s jaw and temples pulsed. “Frankly, I don’t believe your son’s claims that he’s just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Percy’s stomach shriveled inside him. He glanced at Tennyson, who was peeking over the shoulder of the poor solicitor. Rather than being frightened or embarrassed, Tennyson’s eyes shone with hero-worship as he stared at Mom.

Percy now somewhat understood why the middle-aged man hired to keep the Bourgeron family out of legal scrapes had such dead-seeming eyes. If he allowed himself to become emotional every time it was warranted, he probably would have dropped dead on the job from an aneurism.

Mom continued, “So what you’re saying is, if my son sees someone in danger, he should just walk away? Is that the kind of city you want to create, Captain? One where good people do nothing, for fear of the coppers?”

Hay’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “All your self-righteous indignation means nothing in the face of justice. We don’t play favorites just because someone acts like a sweet little puppy who just accidentally committed a crime, or because they have rich parents. Both of them will face justice.”

A chill ran down Percy’s spine. He tried to send his mother frantic looks to be quiet, but either she couldn’t see him or she was ignoring him. Percy looked to Lieutenant Robards for support, but the man was hesitating, or perhaps just as unsure of Percy about how to stop the metaphorical runaway carriage.

“I would like to reiterate that my client has committed no crimes,” Tennyson’s solicitor said, unfazed.

Mom ignored the man, her furious gaze trained unblinkingly on Captain Hay. But then, without warning, her expression shifted, a cold smile spreading across her face.

Percy’s stomach shriveled. That was Mom’s “past angry and all the way into blood-feud-enemies” face. The last time he’d seen it was several years before they moved to Gilbratha, and the woman on the receiving end had been driven from town within a few months of Mom’s vendetta.

“Oh, Captain,” she said softly. “You really don’t want to harm my son. Because if you do, I’ll be forced to start asking some very uncomfortable questions about justice. Like why your coppers always seem to arrive after my son has already solved the problem. Or why a teenage boy seems to be doing your job better than you are. Shall we take this conversation public?”

The room fell silent for a moment, and with a delighted gasp, the sparkle in Tennyson’s eyes grew stronger.

Lieutenant Robards stood up. “Stop,” he said softly. When he had the room’s attention, he continued. “As adults, we are setting a poor example for the children. Now, seeing as Mr. Bourgeron and Irving have come in voluntarily to give any information they have on an as-yet-unsolved case, perhaps we should give them the benefit of the doubt until there is some evidence to indicate a crime.”

The solicitor gave a brief bow, then smoothed down his suit jacket. “If that’s all, gentlemen, I believe we’re done here. Mr. Bourgeron has provided his statement, and I trust you’ll take into account his cooperation in this matter, as well as his background and his clean record as an upstanding citizen of Lenore. The Bourgeron family is a long-standing and happy contributor to Gilbratha’s success and stability.”

Even Percy wasn’t so naive as to miss the subtext. Gold was involved, either as an enticement or punishment—possibly both. 

The man’s eyes barely flickered towards Percy as he added, “As for Mr. Irving, I’m sure you’ll handle his situation appropriately.”

Tennyson tried to protest, but the solicitor was already ushering him out with a deceptively gentle grip on his arm.

Mom had calmed down, but the cold look hadn’t left her eyes.

As they filed out of the interrogation room, Percy nearly stumbled over Viv, who had been pressed up against the door, her ear practically glued to the wood. How none of the other coppers had seen or stopped her, Percy didn’t know. She straightened up quickly, not even bothering to look embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping.

Tennyson pulled himself free of his solicitor and stepped closer to Percy.

“Well,” Viv said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “that was certainly enlightening.” She noticed Percy’s look of dismay and sobered somewhat. Leaning closer, she murmured, “I think your mom has the right of it. You can’t let people bully you, Percy. If these leprous scum-suckers try to abuse their authority, we can make them regret it.”

Tennyson’s mouth fell open, scandalized at the inventive profanity.

He puffed up his chest to speak, but Viv cut him off with a sharp look. “Save it, fancy pants. I heard enough of your stories already.”

Tennyson’s cheeks flushed as his face fell. Very stiffly, he forced out, “My pants are the height of fashion, I’ll have you know. My stylist says I have a gift.”

Viv snorted.

Percy’s temples throbbed and his right eye twitched involuntarily. He couldn’t deal with them right now. He looked around for Lieutenant Robards.

The man was watching him from a spot a few desks over, talking to Coppers Shelleck and Alma.

Alma gave Percy a smile and a wave, Shelleck sneered, and Robards gave Percy a quick glance and looked away.

Percy’s heart sank. Was the lieutenant questioning Percy’s motives, too? Was he disappointed in Percy? Robards had been one of the few people Percy thought was really on his side.

Maybe Percy and Tennyson should have gone to the coppers right away. But after this most recent experience, Percy felt even less sure that he would have been safe doing so.

It took a while to wrap up the paperwork and sign off on their statements, and Percy felt like a pair of eyes was trying to sear through his skin with a glare the entire time.

Actually, at least one person was shooting invisible daggers at him. Lysander was in one of the chairs up against the far wall, sitting rigidly straight. Her hands were in fists at her side, and her complexion, a dozen shade’s lighter than Percy’s own, kept alternating between ominous, green-tinted paleness and a flush of rage.

As they began to put their coats and gloves back on to face the cold outside, Percy’s parents moved to stand protectively on either side of him.

“I can’t believe you put yourself in danger like that, Percy,” Mom hissed, her voice low but intense. “Going out during a rogue magic incident? What were you thinking?”

Percy’s shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t have known something like that would happen, Mom. I was just trying to take some photographs, remember?”

His mother’s scoff made it clear she wasn’t buying his explanation. “You should have known better. You’re always getting into these situations, and it has to stop. You’re grounded for the next month. You will not leave the house without a trusted escort.”

Percy ducked his head, feeling a tightness spread from his neck down along either side of his spine. He wanted to explain, to make her understand that he never sought out danger, but the words stuck in his throat. Shouldn’t she know that already? He was her son. Shouldn’t she know what kind of person he was? “What about work?” he asked, his voice small and strained.

“Your father will take you in the morning, and you will wait until someone is available to pick you up in the evenings.”

Percy knew better than to argue.

Dad put an arm around Mom and drew her away, murmuring softly.

Percy couldn’t hear what Dad said, but Mom’s frustrated response was still mostly audible. “The coppers are supposed to protect children! I thought…” Her voice lowered for a moment, and he missed what she said. “But now I see I that was wrong,” she finished darkly.

Lysander bumped rudely into Percy, forcing him to look up.

“You always do this!” she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. “Everything was perfect tonight. My birthday, the play I’ve been dying to see for months, and you had to go and ruin it all!”

Percy flinched at the venom in her words. “Lysander, I—“

But she cut him off, her voice rising. “No! Don’t you dare try to explain this away. It’s always about you, isn’t it? Percy and his bad luck, Percy and his heroics, Percy and his constant drama!” She jabbed a finger at his chest. “For once, just once, I wanted something to be about me. But you couldn’t even let me have that, could you?”

Percy gasped, his eyes stung with the warning of tears, and something inside him snapped. The frustration and fear he’d been bottling up for too long came rushing out. “You think I want this?” he shouted, his voice cracking. “You think I enjoy constantly being in danger, constantly worrying about what might happen next? Well, I don’t! I’m done with it all!”

Lysander took a step back, startled by his outburst.

Aethelwulf moved to stand behind Mom’s skirts, and Gideon, who had fallen asleep in Dad’s arms, jerked awake and immediately burst into tears.

Percy’s chest heaved as he continued, his words tumbling out in a rush. “From now on, I’m going to be normal. No more accidents, no more stupid heroics, no more getting involved in things I shouldn’t. I’m going to live a boring, ordinary life just like everyone else. I’ll prove it, just watch me!”

Percy snapped his mouth shut to avoid swallowing a bug that fluttered past, then glared at his family, panting. For a brief moment, he thought he felt the tattoo on his wrist tingle.

He rubbed his wrist, suddenly remembering where he was, and looked around at the coppers and handful of criminals being processed. Everyone was staring at him. He flushed, but didn’t duck his head in shame.

Captain Hay let out a loud harrumph from across the room. “Oh, we’ll be watching.”

Weekly discussion thread on the Alcove: https://alcove.azaleaellis.com/t/chapter-2-9-in-which-percy-is-threatened-and-accused/873