Darius turned his head to the left and right and checked his reflection in the mirror. He still didn’t know if he liked how he looked. Everything was new. The crisp suit, the white shirt, the thin tie, well, all that was cool, really cool, but something was wrong, and he thought it was the new hat. It made him look…

  Too young?

  No.

  Smaller?

  It was the hat.

  But a hat is supposed to make you look taller.

  Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t stop thinking he looked like a little kid wearing a new suit and his dad’s hat.

  He snatched the hat off, studied his appearance, then eased the hat slowly back on. He nodded. It was definitely the hat.

  He was used to ballcaps. He had been wearing them for years, so he didn’t mind a hat, but this sort of hat was too old-fashioned. It had an old hatband with a little brown feather in it. He hadn’t worn it much since he got it, and now, after finally studying his appearance in a mirror, he knew why. He didn’t feel right in it, and it didn’t look right. He didn’t like that. He definitely didn’t like appearing any more kid-like than he was.

  Brock was one sink over, making sure he would be ready to go in front of his own mirror. Brock was big. Tall. Strong looking. They were all in the same sports league, but Brock looked like a man. It was his twelve o’clock shadow that did it. Darius didn’t think he wanted to start having to shave, but still, to look bigger and more like a man, he would take on the shaving that came with it. Darius wished he had a presence like Brock did, and the stupid hat was taking him entirely in the opposite direction.

  Darius took the hat off and sat it on the tile shelf between the sink and the mirror.

  While they waited, he leaned forward to peer at his jawline, left side and then the right side.

  No sign of a beard yet.

  He stood back up straight and lifted his chin.

  “Do, ah… leprechauns have beards?”

  Brock paused in combing his hair and thought for a moment. “Leprechauns? Well, I guess so. Ya. I think so…” Brock canted his head, checked his look, and continued combing. “Ya. I think I remember. A cartoon picture or something from somewhere… like, this little red-haired dude with a red beard, or maybe it was orange.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not so sure about the colour now. And not all of them have beards, I’d think. But that’s just cartoon stuff, so stop worrying about it. You’re not becoming a Leprechaun. Relax. It's just a hat they gave you. A gift.” He went back to combing his hair and mumbled.

  “Cartoon stuff. Ya. Right. Like the rest of the junk we’ve been through… Like the yowler?”

  “Hey. Not fair bringing that up.” Brock shot him a stern look then continued combing his hair. “At least I don’t think you’re becoming a leprechaun.”

  “Very funny. I just better not start growing orange hair,” Darius said, glancing at his hat. He was sure the hat had a bit of a green hue to it. A little green there in that dark, shadowy material. He didn’t quite feel ready to mention that fact to Brock. It would either lead to more teasing or possibly a confirmation and he didn’t feel like either right now.

  Brock’s suit was of a cut similar to the one Darius wore, but Brock’s was heavier and thicker. It made him look like one of those dispatch riders from an old movie who zoomed around on a low-slung heavy motorcycle. Brock’s jacket had a broad front that folded over double thick with parallel rows of buttons. Mercury had called it double-breasted. His shoulders and elbows were reinforced with heavy material and a pair of tall black boots came up to shield his knees.

  “Your suit looks really tough.”

  “It feels tough. ‘It will wear like iron,’ Mercury said.”

  “I wonder why I didn’t get boots?”

  “You’ve got the hat.”

  “Ya. I know. And that worries me. But you also got the mystery bag.” He plopped the hat back on his head and looked sideways at himself. “I’m kinda afraid of what the hat may do.”

  “From what I’ve started seeing from my case, I’m worried about what it might do too. But I really don’t think your hat is going to turn you into anything, and I really think your suit is better. At least your suit just looks like a suit. Like you’re just dressed up and going to grad or something. It doesn’t look like a suit some video game street fighter would wear.”

  “Ya. Nice suit. I look like a kid playing dress up and wearing his grandpa’s hat. Like he’s trying to look tall for some big event.”

  “Speaking of which. Have you decided what you’re going to say?”

  “I don’t know. The truth, I guess.” Darius tipped the hat, checked the look, re-adjusted it, and finally, giving up, left it and brushed his sleeves. He didn’t know how many times he had brushed invisible lint off his sleeves.

  I’m tired of waiting and I’m nervous. Let’s get this over with.

  Behind them, one of the stalls flushed, the door clicked open, and out strode Nova. Taller. He glanced down at the bright red dress shoes. She was the same height as him now. Today they were dress shoes. Before, they had been red high-top sneakers.

  She strode to the sink beside him in a matching new crisp suit, but hers was even more thinly cut.

  “My shoes look bitchen’ today. I know. You don’t have to say. I see you staring and jealous.”

  “Ya well I still don’t know what this hat does. But Brock’s case changes, too, like your shoes.” Darius said and flicked his head slightly towards his buddy. “I think you guys got the cooler stuff.”

  “You want your hat change into what? Beret? You would look silly in beret. And you not French.” She said, checking her hair.

  “The case is supposed to give me things.” Brock countered. “But really, we still don’t know what the hat does. They didn’t tell us.”

  “Mercury say case give you things. I think they don’t know. It never give you a thing yet.” She straightened her already straight tie. “My shoes better. At least they look bitchen.”

  “And I just have a plain old hat for now. I think I’m good with that.”

  “Yes. I like it. It cool. Look like Frank Sinatra hat.”

  “It’s supposed to take things.” Darius didn’t know what that meant, but he hoped it wasn’t taking any of his height.

  “And this thing about telling the truth. I hear you boys speaking this. You be careful Darius. Sometimes all the truth is not best, sometimes it is worst. No?”

  She finished with a few touches of her hair. The blond hair cut short always perfectly framed her crystal eyes and delicate features.

  “Ya. She could be right there, mate. You know, all that tweaking we did. Maybe we’ve nudged a few dominos a little too much. Maybe they caught us out on something we don’t know about yet. Or maybe we did something we don’t know we did and they don’t know we did. Better not tell them everything. We’re pretty new at this.”

  How bout totally new at this, Darius thought.

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  “I know I right. We are learning. I think back, you guys do stupid things.”

  Darius at her through the mirror, and their eyes caught.

  “Ok. Me too, sometimes, maybe do stupid things,” she said with a subdued tone. “But not as much as you two. You break law of Chaos; not even Mercury can help us. I think you shud-up in there and not say too much.”

  “You talk about us but then you said I was breaking the laws?”

  “We weren’t always together, man,” Brock said. He turned and put a hand on Darius’ shoulder.

  “What do you guys mean ME? I told you guys everything that happened!”

  “We’re not saying we don’t have your back. You know it would never be like that with us. We’re just saying we weren’t ALL there ALL the time. They can cross-check our stories. Question us separately like they do on cop shows man. Lot’s of stuff happened. What if they ask us about stuff we didn’t think to talk about? About stuff we didn’t think that matters, but matters to them. If you’re going to go in there and lay it all out, well, I’m with Nova; you could be giving them all the rope they need to hang us, even if we aren’t actually guilty of anything.”

  “Yes. Is easy to make crap stick to idiot. Den everyone else clean.”

  “Ok,” Darius said, raising his palms. “I get the point. So can we go and get this over with? Are you ready yet?” He asked Nova.

  “Of course. Of course. I'm just waiting for you boys.” Darius turned for a final check in the mirror. He pushed his hat to a different angle. “I don’t know...” he said, studying his reflection. “This hat bugs me.”

  “Hat is cool. I already said. You look like Frank Sinatra. And not old fat Sinatra, but young cool Sinatra. You have dark look, like old fashoned gangster kid.” She turned him to face her and slipped her fingers under his lapels.

  Darius felt his breath catch. She ran her fingers down the inside of his lapels to straighten them and then brushed them to remove any wrinkles. His heart pounded a thud-thud, and then it started up to run normally again.

  “They give gifts. Like my shoes. Hat is special gift to you. You have to wear it. It a polite thing.” She stepped back and patted his shoulder. “From some dead lucky guy they used to know.”

  “They didn’t say he was dead, Nova.” Brock said. “They said he was gone cuz nobody believed in him anymore.”

  “Dead. Gone. No matter. The hat is free to give. Darius has been given it. Don’t worry so much Darius about hat. Not so big deal. You look good. You worry what comes next. That you worry about.”

  Darius turned, wished he had something cold to drink, and concentrated on walking to the exit. Brock and Nova fell beside him to stride across the black-and-white tiled floor, passing identically spaced porcelain sinks below mirrors.

  She was right; their new suits did look rad.

  They paused by the door as Brock picked up his case.

  “I thought it was black violin case?” she asked.

  “It was a violin case yesterday while were sightseeing. I guess that was because a violin case would fit in better around an orchestra. Today, it is a black briefcase, like a lawyer would carry. I think because we’re in the Multidimensional Halls of Justice, or whatever it is they call this place. It’s annoying having to drag it around all the time.” They pushed through the washroom door and into a narrow hallway.

  “I wish my hat would change into a ball cap. A ball cap I’m used to.”

  “You look stupid ball cap with suit. I would not even walk these shoes with someone with ball cap. But Brock is right, Darius. We are with you. Whatever they pitch at us.”

  “Ya man, we’re with ya.” Brock added.

  “Thanks guys.” Darius glanced down at the leather brick-shaped case in Brock’s hand. “If you don’t want to carry it all over, then just leave it. Maybe we can find someplace in this great building for you to check it with, like, a bag-check counter or something.” Darius said.

  “Ya, I’ve tried that. I can’t. I checked it with the hotel concierge yesterday. It just shows up in the next room or around the next corner. I’ve even tried losing it. When I was on my way to meet you guys for lunch, I suddenly had this bright idea to drop it in the hall, turn around and walk the long way to the diner. So I did. And when I turned the corner, it was sitting in front of the diner. I still ignored it, walked past it, and there it was in front of the table with you guys.”

  “Case made you late for meeting us at lunch.”

  “So then you don’t have to carry it. It will just show up where you are.”

  “Well, last night I did an experiment; I grabbed it, went into the hallway and dropped it down the garbage chute. I got back to my room and thought I was safe. No case. I fell asleep watching that movie about the little snail guy –“

  “I was watching that.”

  “Me too.”

  “Well, later, when I woke up, it was all dark. I went into the bathroom and tripped on it and nearly fell head first into the tub.”

  “It get you back for drop in garbage. I think shoes definitely better gift.”

  Brock glanced over to Nova and nodded in agreement.

  “Ya. I think so. It got me back. But I think it’s safer just to carry it around. I don’t want it getting pissed at me again.”

  “That’s annoying. It means my hat will probably do the same thing. I probably won’t be able to not have it with me either then.”

  “The other guy was able to leave it,” Brock said.

  “Ya, but it sounds like he may have had to die to do it,” Darius replied.

  They pushed through the bathroom doors into a towering corridor. They couldn’t help but stare up at the towering archwork far overhead. Three twin corridors led away and faded into the distance. Straight ahead, left or right and every direction was entirely deserted. Coloured shafts of light plunged down through the gloom of the hallways from stained glass windows set high above.

  “It looks like these halls run for miles in either direction,” Darius said.

  “Do we know which way we’re going?” Brock asked.

  “No, but Mercury said we’d know it when we see it. Let’s try walking this way first. But we may have to double back.”

  They began to stroll down the left-hand hall. Nova slowed and then stopped.

  “No. This not right. That other way.” She turned around and faced the right-hand hallway, paused, and then faced the center hallway, and then strode off in that direction.

  “This way is correct.”

  “It must be those new shoes,” Brock mumbled to Darius as they were catching up to her.

  Occasionally, as they walked, they would pass a heavy set of double doors. None of them had any visible handles, knobs, or drawbars, but high front and center on each door was usually some strange form of identification. A few were normal, or more normal that they could identify. Numbers or letters in a foreign language or a shield hung with a banner or splash colour. But mostly, the identification on the doors was alien. Some had clusters of crystals; some had swirling multi-dimensional images; others had slashes, like claw marks across them, and others had nothing visible, but they gave off a scent, sound or vibration. Other doors had no markings at all.

  They had walked for quite a while. Nova never slowed once. Eventually, she stopped and faced a set of doors with the number ‘1383’ in brass.

  “This is us,” Nova said.

  “Our player numbers,” Brock said, “My thirteen, Darius eight, your three.”

  As they finished speaking, the double doors split and swung open. The room beyond was pitch black. The three of them peered cautiously across the threshold. The entrance drifted with a swirling blackness that did not flow out into the hallway.

  Nova extended a red shoe across the sill, seemed to find a floor, and stepped through into the darkness and dissapeared. Brock and Darius glanced at each other and followed.

  Darius was met with a pitch-black room. Not even the sunlight from the corridor seemed able to pierce the darkness through the open doors behind him.

  And then he heard the sound of those doors as they boomed shut.

  “All in attendance,” a deep voice spoke as the rumble of the doors faded away. “Court is now in session. We will proceed. Accused are requested to make their way to the dock.” A spotlight came on to illuminate a cramped seating area set with straight-backed wooden chairs.

  “Ah, with all due respect…” That was Mercury, and they felt a touch of comfort at the sound of his voice. He continued. “A miscarriage of justice has not been clearly established previous to this, so proceedings indicate that the accused may be allowed to sit at the council table until a committal of a crime has been proven without doubt.”

  “Thank you, Barrister. Your point is to be sustained. The accused may accompany you.”

  “Thank you, Tribune,” Mercury replied. The spotlight dimmed, and a closer light illuminated a table. A large wooden table you’d find in a nice library, complete with comfortable leather chairs.

  They made their way to the table, and Brock placed his case underneath it. Darius removed his hat and went to slide it onto the table, but he stopped and tucked it onto his lap as he sat. Nova sat down beside him and clasped her hands together. She seemed calm, but her grip was tight, fingertips pressed into white. Brock stood, looking uncomfortable, and then sat on the other side of Darius.

  They are nervous too.

  A glow slowly materialized across the room, like a moon appearing through fog. As the light grew, Darius glanced around for Mercury or anyone, for that matter, but despite the voices around them, he couldn’t make out anyone. The glow continued to grow in size and formed a distinct oval. Another glowing moon appeared beside this first one, and then another, until seven small clouded moons had appeared, disembodied shapes floating in a horizontal row on the far side of the darkness.

  The shape that was first to appear, the one in the middle of the seven, churned and rolled with the voice of the Tribune that had spoken to Mercury.

  “Barrister, in this count of interference across the boundaries of existence. How do you plead?”

  “My firm has not yet received a response on a petition five zero two three dash seven alpha filed with the court regarding the specifics of these accused parties.” Mercury’s voice again. Darius glanced over his shoulder, but still, he could see nothing. He couldn’t even make out the doors that they had passed through.

  “With regard to those of your party, the accused is one Darius Stormcloud.”

  Darius’ gaze snapped back to the front. It felt like everyone was looking at him, yet he could see no one.

  Me?

  “You are not trying the others? Why are they here then?”

  “Nova Antinov and Brock Mapstone will be testifying on behalf of the prosecution. Mr. Stormclould, you may begin. You will now enter your statement into the official record.”

  Darius felt his breath catch. His mouth went dry. He was dizzy and glad he was sitting. He looked down at the table and at his hands splayed there like he was trying to get his balance. He didn’t remember doing that. Putting his hands all flat and splayed like that.

  They weren’t his hands. No, they were his hands.

  He tried to swallow, but his mouth was as dry as if he were trying to swallow a handful of sand. Clenching his hands into fists he sat back up and faced the glowing clouds.