49. Michael O’Toora For The Defense

Just as Lira was about to raise her trident in defence against the crooked bidders who were attacking her, Mum and Dad appeared. Behind them loomed Death’s Coachman and the once Demon Bride, Alpin’s parents. And behind the Dullahans arrived all the guests of Michael Toora’s party, as well as Michael himself. After that, other fairies, alerted by those already present, showed up too.

“Mum! I’ve been kidnapped!” Alpin hastened to holler, springing out of the bushes and growing to his usual size.

A deathly silence fell upon the crowd there present and Alpin spoke out again to accuse Curmudgeon of sequestering us, pointing at him with an accusing finger that shook convulsively.

I spoke out too, to say that an infamous auction was taking place and had to be stopped immediately. 

As soon as we finished explaining ourselves, Aislene, Alpin’s mother, screeched “Fairy trial!”

Since kidnapping is one of the most serious crimes among fairy people, she was soon seconded, first by random members of the crowd and soon by the whole crowd chorusing “Fairy trial! Fairy Justice! Fairy Court!”   

“We had better do something before someone gets lynched,” Dad whispered to Mum.

“Are you saying I’m not doing anything? Because I was first to shout Fairy Trial!” spouted Mum.

“No, that was Aislene. She was first. She’s a  finer fishwife than you are. Will you deny that?”

“Are you saying I am vulgar? For defending my son with tooth and nail?”

Mr. Binky intervened then to put an end to my parents’ squabbling and organize the trial.

“It will take us some time to find the right jury for this trial. I suggest your majesties forget your differences and cooperate so we can get on with the trial.”

My dad snapped his fingers and a fairy courtroom appeared right there in the park of Saint Job’s library. And we were all in it.

Mum snapped her fingers too and she and Dad were suddenly clad in black togas and wearing the white wigs of judges over their crowns. 

“First, we have to name a prosecutor,” said Dad.

“I’ll be prosecutor,” glowered Ernest Dullahan, Death’s Coachman.

“No way!” shrieked Basiliska. “He is the father of one of the victims, and therefore biased.”

“Well, the judges are the parents of the other child abducted,” replied Mr. Binky.

“I don’t mind them being judges,” said Basiliska. “They’re more incompetent than vicious, that could favor me. I mean, merciful. They’re quite merciful. Isn’t that so, your majesties?”

My parents chose to ignore her remark and Mr. Binky looked about him. It was the Leafies that caught his eye, for they were jumping all over the courtroom excitedly.

“Perhaps one of you gentlemen?” he asked.

“You may hang Bailiska if you see it fit,” replied Malcolfus, “but there is no way a Leafy will prosecute Curmudgeon Finn, benefactor of our tribe.”

“What? Since when has Curmudgeon done a thing for you?” asked my dad. He and Mr. Binky exchanged puzzled looks.

“Since he has kept the Unchangedling in a cage, which is where he should be, far from access to the nuts and berries of our woods. Thanks to him we are having fine harvests this year, and have been able to fill our little larders for the winter.That’s more than you or your wife have done for us.”

“Oh. I see,” said Dad, “but Finn has kidnapped my son too. And that innocent little book hovering over there, poor thing. I particularly loath the sequestering of books.”

“I want to make it clear,” interrupted Mr. Binky, “that we are not going to hang anyone. The most our justice can do is exile offenders.”

“I am going to be prosecutor and I am going to take these criminals on a ride to where I usually take people. And that’s settled,” said Death’s Coachman.

“Well then, so be it. Now we have to name a lawyer for the defence,” said Mr. Binky. He looked about him again trying to find the right person to be public defender and saw the Leafies where leaping around even more wildly than before.

“Me! Me!” shouted the little Leafies of Minced Forest. “Me, please! One of us! Any one of us!”

“No, I don’t think so,” said Mr. Binky. “You are too sensitive and emotional. Your efforts could backfire.”

“Then let Fergus MacLob O’Toora take charge of the defence. We’ll pay him with as many acorns from our larders as he asks us for. For once they are full, thanks to Curmudgeon.”

“No, I don’t think so either,” said Mr. Binky. “No one Fergus has ever defended has ever been convicted. There would be no chance of a conviction and that wouldn’t be fair. I know! We’ll name Michael O’Toora. Fergus’ son has never defended a case, so there’s no guessing what the verdict will be if he does.”

“I object! I’m one of Curmudgeon’s victims,” protested Michael. “He threw a brick at me and it hit me on the forehead. And he rained bricks on my tree house. That’s assault and battery and assault with intent, isn’t it?”

“He knows what he’s talking about,” said Mr. Binky. “That´s always a good sign. Michael, you are the public defender.”