A flush of embarrassment crawls up my neck. “How is this not breaking any rules now that we’re alone together? What are all these people waiting for?”
“Sybil is able to keep an eye on what is happening at all times. They know when I have pre-scheduled time with someone and are able to watch, so we are never technically alone. We never have been, but I ask them to keep their distance.”
He blows out a long breath before giving me as detailed an explanation as he can.
“At the end of the line is the Register, which contains the name of every person and what type of afterlife they are going to have. There is so much death in the mortal world, and this space acts as a holding place before people pass on. Forget what you’ve been taught in religion classes about gods and St. Peter and the Pearly Gates—this is the reality. I’ll do a better job of going over the details tomorrow, if you’ll have the patience. Then it will make more sense.”
“Don’t ask me for questions and then get pissy when I ask,” I snap.
Essos stifles a smirk.
He turns to the door and straightens to his full height again, his posture having relaxed as we talked. His face changes; gone is the beaming smile and deep concern from earlier. In its place are a frown and indifferent eyes. He seems practiced in this transformation. Thousands of years of doing this have to wear on a person’s soul; I can’t imagine the mask he needs to don here.
Before pushing both doors open, he glances down at what I’m wearing and waves his hand, turning the bloodstained, blush-colored tulle to black. I feel my hair twist back and away from my face into what I think is a tight bun, but I don’t dare check. I stick close to his heels as we walk down the center of what looks like a courtroom, only the viewing gallery is endlessly filled with people.
He walks into the judge’s box and conjures a chair behind him for me. He gives no instructions, but I know to sit and be silent all the same. I perch on the edge of my seat, my shoulders pulled back, sticking out my chin a little, trying to adopt the same unbothered look as Essos. His gaze lingers on me for too long, and his mask cracks a little. Essos’s nostrils flare as the muscle in his jaw ticks. His hands are clenched so tightly I’m afraid his knuckles might break the skin. Then he releases the tension, seeming to remember where he is and why we’re here.
From out of nowhere, a man appears in front of him and calls the already silent room to order. This man looks at his clipboard and calls out a name, prompting someone to stand and walk forward. Essos looks at the papers in front of him.
“James Blane?” Essos asks. “Are you aware of the charges against you?” The man is slouched with bad posture. He has shaggy, greasy hair hanging in his eyes, and it sways when he shakes his head to Essos’s question. Essos looks down at the paper, then back at the man.
“You ran and operated an online celebrity website on which you ridiculed people for no other reason than their social status. Is this correct?” The man nods. “Is it also correct that you paid special attention to Bonnie DeVille, a 17-year-old starlet, shaming her for everything from her looks to her singing ability to her family?”
The man senses where this is going and swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he nods his head. The man is looking everywhere but directly at Essos. His gaze snags on me, and I feel his stare as he takes in my exposed neck down to my chest and gown.
Essos catches his leering stare.“Look at me,” he orders coldly, the lethal tone leaving nothing to be misinterpreted. Essos doesn’t need a show of force, like slamming down his fist or shouting—the power is in his words. The man’s gaze immediately shifts to the space directly in front of Essos. “Is it also true that when she made a personal plea to get you to stop, you told her—and I quote—‘I’ll do it only if you suck my big fat cock?’”
The man now has beads of sweat rolling down his face under Essos’s glare as he waits for an answer. James Blane attempts to shake his head, but nods instead.
“And did she?” Essos’s voice is dangerously low, an edge to it that I haven’t heard before. The man nods his head, lowering his eyes. I bet if he was capable of collapsing in on himself, he would.
“So, to summarize,” Essos says loudly, “you bullied a 17-year-old girl into giving you a blow job that you then bragged about all across the internet, and when people demanded proof, you provided it in the form of video evidence. Correct?”
My skin crawls, thinking about this happening, that men like this still breathe air, although in this case, he doesn’t anymore.
“Did Bonnie kill herself after you shared this?”
The man drops to his knees, nodding his head.
“Why should you be permitted to go to a better afterlife?”
The man starts crying, blubbering, not making any sense. Essos lets him whimper and cry until he holds up a hand, silencing the man. “I demand an answer. Why should you be allowed to have a peaceful afterlife after the pain you have wrought? You knew that this young woman had depression—you wrote about her being medicated for it. You knew the ugly things people said in response to what you wrote.” Essos waits for him to respond.
“Sir, because, sir, one mistake doesn’t make a person, sir.”
Essos appears to consider it for a moment but no longer. “Not sufficient. Denied.” He waves his hand, and the man disappears.
Essos does a few more of these, including war criminals and negligent parents, making a different decision each time. He is efficient at his job, asking only a few questions before making his declaration. After he’s had enough, he holds my hand and leads me out of the room, then takes me home.
CHAPTER20
We’re back at the beach in an instant, only it’s dark now. I walk forward and sit in the surf, letting the water lap around me, not caring that I’m damaging another dress. Essos sits beside me, getting wet as well. He has the common sense to kick off his shoes first.
“That wasn’t easy,” I say, looking at him.
He takes a deep breath, nodding. All of the terrible things that he had to read and say felt like they chipped away at my soul.My heart is heavy, and I feel my shoulders have turned in on themselves. The weight of what I witnessed bears down on me, the words and the actions of those people, while not my own…having to hear them made me feel dirty inside.
“And that is why I need someone to take on this task with me. I’ve done it on my own for a long time. I need someone to share this with. What you didn’t see was how I prepare for every case that needs to be heard. I spend hours pouring over a dossier of their lives, knowing when they stole a candy bar from a store or a handful of rocks. I learn what they fear, what drives them. All these reports are compiled by the worker bees that actually keep the realm running. I’m not so arrogant as to think that I’m what keeps the wheels turning. I offer a very competitive healthcare benefits package to all who work for me.”He sounds tired. Tired of this burden that he has to carry alone.