The Girl Underground

Chapter 33: In the Unknown and Perfect World

Chapter 33: In the Unknown and Perfect World

"Do not take me for a fool, Mr. Dorsey," the Magistrate said as they walked through the forest. "I know you had a hand to play in Malia's departure. My only question is why."

Brandon was no good at bandying words. In fact, he was the worst at it. He always took the high road, always doing the right thing. At the moment, the right thing was to be totally honest with the Magistrate and tell him where Malia was. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, not with Malia depending on him to keep his mouth shut.

"She wanted to leave, Magistrate, so I helped her," Brandon turned to look up at him. "I saw no reason to not let her go. She didn't feel safe here."

"She never expressed such concerns to me," the Magistrate growled. "She was always honest with me."

"I don't doubt that, sir, but Malia was my best friend. We shared everything."

The Magistrate didn't seem to like that. His jaw clenched and his eyes flared like twin pools of ice. It sent shivers up Brandon's spine and he wanted to turn and run as far as he could from this man. Love did dangerous things to people, that was for certain.

"Like what?" The man gritted out.

"N-nothing important, sir," Brandon babbled out without thinking. "She just didn't feel safe. She wanted to leave. I told her that I could help her, that is all."

"Where was that carriage headed?"

"I cannot say."

"Why not?"

"Because I promised her I wouldn't," Brandon said dumbly, knowing that that would not be enough. "She wanted to start her life over, sir. She couldn't do that if everyone knew where she was going."

"And, by 'everyone', you mean me," the Magistrate looked furious. He stopped walking and turned to face Brandon, glaring down at him with a deadly expression. "Mr. Dorsey, answer me honestly: were you and Malia lovers?"

Brandon was rendered speechless with the shock of that question, to the point that when he opened his mouth to speak, literally nothing came out. The silence was doing nothing to help his cause, though. He had to find words and speak before the very intimidating man thought the worst.

"Magistrate," Brandon cleared his throat and tried to keep his voice from shaking, "please, believe me when I saw that there was never anything between Malia and I. She loved you, sir, more than anything. She was nothing more than a friend to me, family! Leaving Dawn-Bridge was hard for her, but she almost remained here because she wanted to stay with you. She never wanted to leave you, it killed her. Trust me, she told me everything. She wanted to stay. She just... Couldn't."

The Magistrate's face softened only slightly at that, but his glare remained. "What caused her to leave, Mr. Dorsey? Who threatened her? Was it Roger? Is that why he's dead?"

"Magistrate—"

"The next few words you speak better be the truth, or I will see you punished," he growled. "No more lies, Mr. Dorsey. I am sick and I am tired of the lies. All around me, I am surrounded by a wall built by deceitful hands, a wall that forever grows, and never falls. I want to see it fall, Mr. Dorsey. I want to see a clear path before me just for once. No more lies, please."

That last sentence was what caused a cold rush to flow over Brandon's flesh. The man was begging him? A lowly footman? A man that caused others to beg was resorting to it himself? The tables had truly turned, and Brandon hated to see it. He hated the situation more than anything. The man was suffering without Malia. He was broken and lost, as if she had taken strings of his heart with her when she left. Brandon finally saw it the Magistrate's eyes. This was true love. This was it, the pinnacle of every poem, every tale of love and loss... This was the muse those artists used to paint the masterpieces of old and new. When a man resorted to begging just to know the slightest bit of information on his lost beloved, that was the proof that he was willing to do anything.