times as he needed to peer over the edge of the bench, that perhaps he needed a smaller bench.
“Am I to understand then, Mr. Sparrow, that you do not know what year we are in?”
The round Faë laughed, not at all embarrassed.
“I’m afraid not. I never was one for numbers. Hard to keep track of the years and all, seeing as I have lived so many of them. I suppose that I cannot testify. Sorry old cha- err, Your Honor.”
Periwinkle smirked and chuckled to himself, but the judge was not dissuaded.
“On the contrary, Mr. Sparrow. I am sure that we can in some way jog that memory of yours. I assume that even if you cannot remember exact dates, you can at least remember things that occurred in the last, say year or two?” Sparrow bobbed his head.
“But, of course!”
“Then would you please tell this court what events transpired on April 24 th of last year.”
“Err, my apologies, Your Honor,” Sparrow said, raising a finger and shrugging his shoulders apologetically. “But I won’t be able to do that.”
“You mean you do not remember?” the judged asked, sharpness to his tone.
“It’s hard to say really. It’s the dates and all again.” Sparrow shrugged his shoulders. “I’m no good with dates.”
“Ah, to the devil with you! You cannot remember what happened on April 24 th of last year?”
Sparrow rubbed his chin in thought for a moment before shrugging once more and dropping his arms to his sides in a heavy sigh.
“’fraid not.”
“But this is preposterous! I have here in my very hand,” and as the judge said this, he held up a cream-coloured parchment, “a sworn statement by you that you possess knowledge of what transpired between the Accused and a certain young Emerald Wren on April 24 th , during the 57 th year of the 72 nd Neptune Cycle. Are you committing perjury?!?”
“Oh, no, I can tell you that. Why didn’t you say so?” Sparrow regarded the judge with a look of curious innocence, the wide pupils of his eyes rimmed with only a thin trim of dark red iris. The judge’s hand shook, and Phinnegan grimaced against the coming torrent he expected. But it never came. Instead the judge placed the paper back on top of his bench and motioned for Sparrow to speak, perhaps too upset to trust his ability to speak calmly.
“Shall I recount then?” Sparrow asked. The judge only nodded.
“Always happy to oblige the court, Your Honor. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the evening that young Master Periwinkle Lark and that beautiful young Faë Emerald Wren met for a drink at the Droopy Mushroom. I remember it like it was yesterday. When I heard from Janus Robin that he had heard from Brutus Magpie that he had seen Periwinkle and Emerald at the-“
“Wait,” the judge interrupted. “Am I to understand that you did not actually see the Accused meet with Her Highness?”
“That’s right, Your Honor. Shall I continue?”
The judge’s face turned a deep shade of red and even from this distance Phinnegan could see his bottom-lip begin to quiver.
“Not exactly admissible evidence is it, Your Honor?” Periwinkle asked with a thin smile. The judge’s lip trembled more violently until finally he slammed an open hand upon the table.
“Bailiff!” he yelled, prompting the thin, dark-haired Faë to reappear. “Please remove the charge of treason from the Accused’s record, citing lack of evidence.” The dark-haired man scowled at Periwinkle.
“Your Honor?”
“You heard me! Remove it. And take this witness with you when you remove yourself. The dark-haired man frowned and glared darkly at Periwinkle.
“Very well, Your Honor,” the bailiff said, sneering once more in Periwinkle’s direction. And then he vanished, as did Mr. Sparrow.
“Strike one, Your Honor,” Periwinkle murmured.
CHAPTER 8
A Lack of Evidence
The next half-hour or so passed with further frustrations for the judge and Phinnegan began to have hope that the purple-haired Faë was indeed right that these