by Rachel Aaron
“Eli Monpress!” she shouted, interrupting Master Banage midsentence. “Come out now. You’re not fooling anyone.”
Everyone turned in surprise to see what she was pointing at. Across the room, the slumped man heaved a long sigh and looked up.
“Nothing gets by you, does it?” Eli said.
Miranda ignored him, turning to the admiral. “That man is the thief Eli Monpress,” she said. “He must be arrested at once.”
The admiral stared at her, his face strained and white as paper. “Lady Spiritualist,” he said at last. “I fear you are mistaken. That is Lord Eliton Banage, best friend and adviser to King Josef Liechten of Osera.”
For several seconds, Miranda was too shocked to speak.
“Banage?” she said at last. “Eliton Banage?” She turned back to Eli, who was on his feet by this point, neatly picking his way toward them through the lines of the wounded. “Of all the…” She almost couldn’t find the words. “Slanderous, outrageous, presumptuous—” The list dissolved into enraged sputters. “How dare you try and hide behind the name of the most respected wizard on the continent! I don’t care if we’re at war or if the Empress is coming up the stairs as we speak, I’m taking this criminal in right now. Master Banage!” She turned to face her Rector. “I’ll handle this. He won’t…”
Her voice trailed off when she saw Master Banage’s face. He was standing perfectly still, his eyes open so wide she could see the whites all the way around. He was staring at Eli like another man might stare at a corpse suddenly come to life.
“There is no slander,” Banage said, his voice thin and almost trembling. “It’s been a long time, Eliton.”
“Fifteen years,” Eli said, stepping up to stand beside Josef.
Miranda couldn’t even speak. She just stood there, looking from Banage to Eli and back again. “Impossible,” she whispered. “Impossible. There is no way—”
“Miranda,” Banage said, his voice suddenly as sharp as a razor. “Go downstairs and command the front until I return.”
Miranda blinked. “What?”
“Now,” Banage snapped.
She stared at him stupidly as the command sank in. Then, without a word, Miranda obeyed. She turned and walked down the stairs, the click of her boots and the moans of the wounded the only sound in the tower. She didn’t stop walking until she reached the edge of the sea wall. She stood on the precipice, staring out into thick fog, her mind whirring so fast she didn’t even notice Gin until the ghosthound pressed his nose into her back.
“Eli is Master Banage’s son.” The words tumbled out of her before she could stop them.
“Really?” Gin said, sitting down beside her. “I always thought they smelled kind of similar.”
“This has to be some kind of joke,” Miranda went on as though she hadn’t heard him. “Master Banage is a man of duty and integrity. I’ve never heard him tell a lie, and I don’t even think he’s capable of stealing. Eli is the most irresponsible, conniving, sleazy excuse for a wizard I’ve ever met. How can they possibly be related?”
“Morality isn’t an inherited trait,” Gin said, flicking his ears. “Look at things objectively and it’s really not surprising. I mean, they’re both dark haired, tall for humans, thin built, and powerful wizards.”
Miranda didn’t even want to go down that path, but now that Gin had put the idea in her head, her mind would not stop finding similarities. The way Eli and Master Banage both talked with their hands, for instance, or the particular way their eyes would narrow when they were angry. The little details kept coming, piling up until even her outrage couldn’t overpower the mountain of evidence.
“Powers,” she muttered, flopping against Gin. “Why didn’t Master Banage just tell me?”
Gin snorted. “Can’t blame him. Can you imagine anyone willingly owning that thief as a son?”
Miranda rubbed her eyes. “I don’t even know anymore. I can’t believe—”
She stopped when she felt Gin’s paw nudge into her side. The ghosthound was looking over his shoulder. Miranda turned as well and saw one of the young Spiritualists, a girl whose name she couldn’t remember, standing timidly several feet away with a look on her face that screamed, I have an important message but I’m too shy to interrupt.
Miranda sighed. “What?”
“Spiritualist Lyonette,” the girl said, bowing low even though she and Miranda were technically the same rank. “Someone’s approaching from the city.”
“Someone?” Miranda said, frowning. “What kind of someone?”
“We’re not sure,” the girl said. “It’s hard to see with the fog, but it looks like two people leading ten wagons.”
“Two people leading ten wagons?” Miranda’s scowl deepened, and Gin began to growl. “All right,” she said, jumping off the wall. “Let me have a look.” Because, really, how much stranger could this day get?
The girl smiled in relief as Miranda and Gin walked to the head of the road. Sure enough, squinting through the mist Miranda could just barely make out ten wagon-shaped shadows coming down the mountain with surprising speed. Gin raised his nose, sniffing the air in a loud huff.
Miranda waited impatiently. “Well?”
“You’re not going to believe this,” Gin said, lowering his head with a snort. “And you’re not going to like it either.”
“What?” Miranda said pointedly.
Gin told her, and he was right, she didn’t like it one bit. Biting back a curse, she grabbed the Spiritualist girl and sent her up the stairs to warn Master Banage that things had, against all odds, gotten worse.
Eli hung back, keeping Josef between himself and Banage. The king and the Rector were talking strategy, something about leveraging Josef’s ability to sink palace ships, but Eli was too distracted to pay much attention to the actual plan. The Rector’s eyes never left Josef or the map, but Eli could feel the old man watching him without watching, just like he used to. Eli crossed his arms and glared pointedly out at the fog. He’d known the moment he decided to send Miranda the message that it would come to this. He didn’t regret calling for help, even this beat asking Benehime for aid, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
He was staring as hard as he could at the blank, gray spot where the beach should be when he heard someone enter the room. He looked up to see a girl about Miranda’s age, though with only a fraction of Miranda’s rings, standing in the doorway. She bowed nervously and went straight for the Rector, whispering in his ear. Banage’s already stern face fell into a deep frown as she spoke. When she finished he nodded and waved her away, turning to Josef with a dour look.
“It seems the Council is here.”
“Council?” Josef said expectantly. “Troops?”
Banage shook his head. “I imagine troops are coming, but right now you’ll have to content yourself with the Council’s head wizard.”
Despite his best efforts, Eli’s breath caught.
Thankfully, Josef didn’t notice. He was glaring at Banage, turning this latest development over in his head, looking for the trap. “I thought the Spirit Court split from the Council,” he said. “That’s what you told me.”
“We have,” Banage said. “But we face a common enemy. I should think you’d welcome the help.”
“That depends on the help,” Josef said.
“For that, you’ll have to ask her yourself,” Banage said, his voice cold. “The Court does not involve itself in her methods.”
Josef looked at the Rector with a curious scowl, but he started toward the door all the same. He paused when he reached it, looking over his shoulder at Banage, who had not moved.
“Go ahead,” the Rector said. “Eliton and I have things to discuss in private.”
Josef’s eyes darted to Eli, but the thief shook his head. It would have come to this sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.
Josef turned and started down the stairs, leaving Eli and Banage staring at each other. Thanks to the thick fog, the tower was ve
ry dark now. Eli could barely make out the wounded lying on the other side of the room. Banage, however, he could see clearly thanks to the light that was still emanating from his rings. Eli grimaced and looked away.
“If you’re here to arrest me, don’t bother,” he said. “I’m under the king’s protection. Last time I checked, Spiritualists don’t break local laws.”
“I’m not here to arrest you,” Banage said quietly. “Though I am happy you remember some of the doctrine I tried to teach you.”
“How could I forget?” Eli grumbled. “Sometimes I think you taught me to read only so I could study Spiritualist laws.” He paused, waiting for Banage to start raging, but the room was more silent than ever. The quiet stretched on and on until Eli could bear it no longer. “You wanted to discuss things in private,” he said, sitting on the edge of the table. “So discuss.”
Banage took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you come home that night?”
Eli didn’t have to ask which night he meant. “I had no reason to,” he said. “What was there for me to go home to? You didn’t want me unless I was ready to be an obedient Spiritualist.”
“That’s not true,” Banage said. “I was trying to teach you discipline. Responsibility. You were always powerful, and there are rules that—”
“Oh, yes,” Eli said, surprised at how bitter his voice sounded. “How could I forget? You cared more for rules than you ever did for me.”
“I was trying to teach you respect for the spirits!” Banage shouted. “Obviously, I failed. Look at you, a thief and a degenerate, using spirits for your own selfish purposes.” He clenched his fists, his rings glowing brighter as his spirits reflected his anger. “When I think of what you could have been. What I could have made you—”
“I don’t have to listen to this,” Eli said, hopping off the table. “I freed myself from your expectations years ago, old man. If you’re going to be disappointed in someone, save it for yourself. You were a terrible teacher and a miserable excuse for a father. If I didn’t turn out the way you wanted, that’s entirely on you.”
Eli started to leave, but Banage moved to stand in his way. Eli reached out to push his father aside, but his hand stopped an inch from the old man’s arm. Banage was looking at him with an expression Eli had never seen on his face before. If it had been anyone else, he would have said the old man was on the verge of tears.
“I am more disappointed in myself than you will ever know,” Banage whispered. “When your mother refused to leave Whitefall’s Council, I took you away from Zarin and tried to raise you as best I could. Every night since you vanished, I’ve been haunted by regret for all I could have done to prevent it. I’ve hated you, Eliton. I’ve despised you, blamed you, but I never, ever stopped loving you.” His hands reached out, fingers trembling, to clutch Eli’s shoulders. “The day I first saw your bounty poster was the happiest day of my life, because that was the day I knew you were still alive.”
“And you sent your apprentice after me,” Eli said.
Banage flinched. “I had to. Whatever you may think, I am responsible for you, as a father and as Rector. I could not let you go on abusing spirits and flaunting the rules of the Court.”
Eli reached up and pried Banage’s fingers off his arms. “I’ve never abused a spirit in my life,” he said. “Ever. Ask Miranda, she knows. So would you, if you knew me at all.”
“And you think for that I should just let you do as you like?” Banage said, his voice growing heated again. “You’re one of the most powerful wizards I’ve ever seen, and yet you insist on being a criminal. If you will not willingly accept the responsibility and self-control that power demands, then it is my duty to make you. If you want to throw your life away, that’s your decision, but you can’t be angry with me for doing my duty!”
“Throwing my life away?” Eli roared. “You finally find me after fifteen years and that’s all you want to talk about? How I’m wasting my power as a wizard? Powers, father.” He looked away in disgust. “All I ever wanted was for you to see that I was worthy of your interest. Me. Not my power as a wizard or my future as a Spiritualist. Just me, Eli, your son.”
He glanced back out of the corner of his eyes, but Banage’s face was sterner than ever. Eli sighed and shook his head. “Obviously that’s too much for you,” he muttered, pushing past Banage and stomping toward the door. “Next time you want to have a private chat, don’t bother unless you’ve got something new to say.”
“Wait.”
Eli paused. He could hear Banage moving, but he didn’t turn back. He didn’t even want to look at the man anymore.
“Your mother is outside,” Banage said, his voice strangely thick. “Will you say something to her?”
“No,” Eli said, stomping down the stairs. “I have even less to say to her than I had for you.”
If he’d looked back then, he would have seen Banage put his head in his hands, but he didn’t. He ran down the stairs two at a time, ducking out at the second-to-last landing, the only landing that had a window. He wiggled through the narrow slit and dropped to the walkway along the sea wall, keeping the tower between himself and the gathered Spiritualists standing at the tower door. He could hear voices on the wind, Miranda’s, Josef’s, and another, a smoky, haughty voice from his memory. Eli stopped, nearly overcome by the memory of fragrant smoke. Then the wind shifted and the voices vanished. Free again, Eli walked to the very end of the sea wall and sat down in the crevice where the wall met the cliff. The fighting had been lighter here, and he was able to find a clean stretch of stone. The fog hid the ravaged battlefield, and staring into the blank grayness, he was almost able to forget where he was and why.
You should have known better, love.
Powers, Eli thought, closing his eyes as the voice filled his mind. Not now.
His ribs burned through his tattered shirt as Benehime’s white arms snaked around him.
I don’t even know why you stayed to talk, she whispered in his ear. To Banage you’re just another duty, another mess to put right. Did you really think it would be any different?
Eli dropped his head. He hated Benehime’s voice at the best of times, but he never hated it as much as when she spoke sense. “Good thing I didn’t call the Spiritualists to go over ancient history,” he muttered. “So long as Banage fights the Empress, I don’t really care what he does with his private time.”
Oh yes. He could hear Benehime’s smile. How goes the good fight? Not well, I’m guessing, considering the sorry state of your darling lava spirit.
Eli set his teeth and said nothing.
He’s going to die, you know, Benehime whispered. Such a waste. I could save him, of course. Him, your swordsman, even your little demon. I could save them all, but oh—She paused. That’s right. You’re not going to ask for my help…
Her voice trailed off, letting the words hang. In the silence, her finger slid across his chest to hover just on the edge of Karon’s burn. The moments ticked on, but Eli didn’t break his silence. Finally, Benehime sighed in his ear.
I’ll be waiting, she whispered, her hands pulling back through her cut in the world. And unlike Banage, who wants you to be something you’re not, or Miranda, who just wants you to disappear, or even Josef, who wants you to save his kingdom, all I ask, all I’ve ever wanted, is your love. Come home, Eliton. Let me help you. Love me again as I love you and I’ll give you everything—your lava spirit, your friends’ lives, safety for this land, everything.
Eli closed his eyes as the Lady’s presence began to fade.
When you’re ready, love, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here for you.
The words echoed in the fog, and then the Lady was gone. Eli closed his eyes as her pressure vanished, clutching his fingers against Karon’s burn.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I’ll find another way to save you. But you know I can’t go back.” He felt the water on his cheeks before he realized he was crying. He scrubbed his eyes fiercely and tri
ed to look away, but everywhere he looked, he saw the ravages of war. The dead were little more than shadows in the fog, but he felt them just as he heard the terrified whispers of the spirits all around him, the moaning fear of the winds above, and though he knew it was his imagination, Eli could almost taste the reproach in their voices.
Eli bowed his head. “I’m sorry this is happening,” he said, rubbing his eyes on his sleeves. “I’m sorry I let this happen. I’m letting everybody down. It’s my fault.”
And it was. It was his fault. His fault for thinking Benehime would actually be above starting a war over her stupid obsession. His fault for letting it continue. He could stop it right now. One more lie, that’s all it would take. But…
“I’m sorry,” he said, choking on the words. “I can’t go back to her. I’m so sorry, so, so sorry, but I can’t. I can’t.”
The sob shook him this time, and Eli clenched as his burned chest seized. Despite the motion, Karon didn’t move. Eli swore under his breath and let gravity slide him down the cliff and toward the cold, wet stone, curling into a ball on his side as the mist swallowed him whole.
Miranda stood at the foot of the watchtower with her arms crossed and her mouth set in a stubborn line. Gin stood beside her, growling deep in his chest as he kept his eyes on Sara and, more important, Sparrow, who was standing beside her. Sara stared right back, smoking her ever-present pipe in long puffs. Sparrow simply looked bored, lounging on the wagon with a sleepy expression like ghosthounds growled at him all the time. Of course, for most of the last two months, that had pretty much been the case.
Miranda ignored the flamboyant man completely, focusing on Sara, head wizard of the Council of Thrones, inventor of the Ollor Relay, and Eli Monpress’s mother. Powers, she thought with a stifled groan, that explained so much. But at least it meant Eli came by his scheming honestly, most likely making it the only honestly gotten thing he possessed. She studied Sara as the wizardess took another puff of her pipe, trying to see what Master Banage had ever seen in the woman. Whatever it was, it must be long gone. Miranda had been ready to strangle her from the first moment they’d met.