by Rachel Aaron
Why do you care? she said. Even if I told you the truth, you couldn’t do anything with it. Why waste your life on knowledge that means nothing?
Eli held his breath. Benehime wasn’t talking to the man but to the trembling spirits on his fingers. Even so, it was the Spiritualist who answered.
“I ask because they want to know,” he said, raising his rings to his lips. “And while you may control my spirits utterly, you cannot control me, and you cannot control the truth.”
The Shepherdess bowed her head, and Eli leaned forward. Anger flashed in him. If this man had made his Lady cry, he’d… He was still figuring out what he would do when a sound rang through the still room. It was musical and cold, colder than anything he’d ever felt, and Eli realized the Shepherdess was laughing.
Do you know how many times I’ve been told that? She giggled, raising her head with a smile that made Eli’s blood stop. You think you’re the first to demand answers? Please. I’ve been Shepherdess for nearly five thousand years now. I can’t even remember how many times one of you has asked me those same questions, but I’ve never, ever answered. And do you know why, little wizard?
For the first time since she’d arrived, the Spiritualist was speechless.
Let me tell you something about spirits, Benehime whispered, reaching out to trace the old man’s jaw. Spirits are panicky, stupid, and willfully ignorant. They knew what was on the other side of the sky, and they chose to look away and say nothing, to let the truth be lost in the press of time. They chose safety. They chose ignorance. The only one who didn’t get a choice was me.
She sighed deeply, trailing her fingers down the old man’s neck to his sunken chest, tapping each rib beneath his threadbare nightshirt. You want the truth, Spiritualist? she said, her white eyes sliding up to lock on his dark ones. I’ll tell it to you. The truth is your precious spirits don’t want to know what’s out there, because if they did, their panic would tear them apart.
“I don’t believe you,” the Spiritualist said, though his voice was far less sure than before. “The spirits deserve—”
The spirits deserve exactly what they have, Benehime snapped back, anger cutting through her voice like an icy wire. This is their world, created for them, and its rules, my rules, are for their protection.
As she finished, her hand slid into the old man’s chest. Her white fingers parted his skin like a blade, and the old Spiritualist gasped in pain. He would have fallen to his knees had Benehime’s hand not been in his chest, lifting him up until his face was an inch from hers.
That may not have been the answer you thought you were dying for, she whispered. But that’s the problem with demanding the truth, Spiritualist. It doesn’t always come out as you’d like.
With that, she slid her hand out of his chest and the old man fell. His body changed as he plummeted, growing thinner, the skin shriveling. Eli pressed his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming as the old man, now little more than a skeleton, hit the ground and crumbled to dust. His rings hit a second later, the gold and jewels landing on the wooden floor with hollow clinks. Benehime shook her hand in disgust, and the Spiritualist’s blood fled from her skin, leaving her fingers clean and white. When her hand was purified to her satisfaction, she reached down to pick up the largest of the Spiritualist’s rings, a great onyx band the size of Eli’s thumb.
The spirit began to sob the second Benehime touched it, and she silenced its blubbering with a sharp shake.
You, she said. See what you’ve done? This is your fault, you know. Why did you tell him?
The ring did not speak. Benehime scowled, and her light grew brighter. Even through the veil, the pressure of her anger was enough to make Eli’s ears pop. He watched in horror as the ring shook. Just when he was sure it was about to shake itself apart, the ring spoke one word.
“No.”
Benehime arched a thin white eyebrow. No?
“I’m not afraid of you, Shepherdess,” the black stone whispered. “No, not Shepherdess. Jailor, for that’s what you really are. You say you’re our provider, but our wizard gave us more than you ever have. He fought for us, fought to learn the truth, and you killed him for it.”
Benehime’s white eyes narrowed. You want to share his fate? she said. You’re a strong stone, Durenei. Bow and beg forgiveness, and I may yet overlook this transgression.
The ring trembled in her hand, but its voice was stone when it spoke at last. “I hold true to my oaths and my master,” it whispered. “And I will never bow to you again.”
Benehime’s face closed like a trap as she clenched her hand in a fist, crushing the ring with a snap of breaking metal. The stone spirit gave one final cry, and then Benehime opened her hand to pour a thin stream of sand onto the floor.
After that, the Shepherdess didn’t offer her forgiveness again. She stepped forward, stomping her bare, white foot on the Spiritualist’s rings. She crushed them one after another. Each one died with a soft cry, and when her foot lifted, nothing was left but dust. When they were all destroyed, the Shepherdess snapped her fingers.
The veil rippled, and Eli tensed, ready to run, but she wasn’t calling him. Instead, a white line opened and the Lord of Storms stepped through to stand beside the Shepherdess. He looked around as he entered, and his face settled into an even deeper scowl when he saw the piles of dust on the floor.
Erase this man and his spirits from the world’s memory, the Shepherdess said, waving at the dust. I don’t know his name, and I never want to.
The Lord of Storms folded his arms over his chest. “That’s not my job.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when the Shepherdess’s arm shot out, her white fingers grabbing his throat.
I’ve had enough insurrection for today, she whispered. You are my sword. I made you, and you will do whatever I ask. Do I make myself clear?
“Yes, Shepherdess,” the Lord of Storms whispered around her hold.
She released him with a disgusted sound and turned away, walking toward the center of the tower. The entire world was silent around her, holding its breath. When she reached the middle of the room, she stopped and held out her arms. When she brought them down again, the tower fell with a sigh. Great stone blocks crumbled to sand as Eli watched. Books fell to dust. Wood splintered to nothing. The spirits died without a sound, too terrified even to cry out. Within a few seconds, Benehime and the Lord of Storms were floating in the empty air above a dusty clearing, all that was left of the Spiritualist’s two-story tower.
I’ll leave the rest to you.
“Yes, Shepherdess,” the Lord of Storms said, but the Lady was already gone. She vanished like the moon behind a cloud, leaving the night darker than ever. The second she was gone, Eli fled as well, scrambling through the veil to beat her back home.
He barely made it, winking into place on his pillow just as she appeared. She looked for him at once, and he beamed back at her as always, but his heart was thudding in his chest. She was the same as always, white and beautiful, but when Eli looked at her, all he could see was her foot coming down, her hand leaving the dead man’s chest.
What’s the matter, love? she whispered, sinking onto the pillow beside him. You’re shaking. Are you cold?
Not trusting his voice, Eli shook his head. Benehime sighed and pulled him into her lap. Eli cringed from her touch before he could stop himself, and Benehime froze.
Never pull away from me, she said, her voice cold as glacier melt. You love me.
“I love you,” Eli whispered automatically, letting her move him as she liked. They sat like that for a while, tangled together, and then Benehime spoke.
Always remember, love, she whispered, kissing his hair, the world is a horrible place without gratitude or understanding. No matter how hard you work, you will never be thanked and you will never be loved. But we will always be together, darling. I will always love you, and you will always love me. Now, tell me you love me.
“I love you,” Eli said again.
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Benehime nodded and pulled him closer, crushing him against her chest until he could barely breathe. Whatever happens, darling—she kissed him again and again—whatever comes, remember, I am all that matters in the world for you. I am your hope and your salvation. Love me forever and I will raise you up when all others are cast off. Though the world may end, no harm shall ever come to you. I swear it.
Eli nodded, letting the White Lady kiss him, but even as her lips landed again and again, all he could think of was her face, cruel and unrecognizable as she crushed the Spiritualist’s onyx ring in her fist. And it was at that moment, in the space between one kiss and the next, that Eli knew things could never be the same again.
After that night, Eli knew no peace.
Nothing changed at first. He continued as always, following Benehime wherever she needed to go, entertaining her when she was bored, telling her he loved her whenever prompted like a little parrot. But he didn’t mean it, not anymore.
Now that he’d seen the truth once, he saw it all the time—the cruel shadow that lay behind her smile. The way she held him just a hair too tight. The faint threat in her voice every time she told him to say he loved her. But worst of all were the spirits. Before, when they’d trembled in front of Benehime, he’d thought it was awe. He now saw it for what it really was: pure terror. He would stand beside her as she dealt with the spirits, hating every second of it. Hating her for being that way. Hating himself for not seeing it sooner.
It hurt to think how childish he’d been, how naive. He’d thought he was important, standing beside her, having spirits bow to him as they bowed to her, but he was nothing but a shadow, an afterthought of their fear. It made him sick. Living with his father in the tower, the spirits had been his friends. They’d been kind to him when Banage had driven all kindness out in the name of discipline, and this was how he repaid them? Following their tyrant around, lapping up her attention like a little lovesick dog?
The truth of it ate at him. Everything she did now—the forced kisses, the constant promises she wrung out of him—it made Eli furious. Made him feel used and helpless and disgusting, but what could he do? Benehime was always with him. She didn’t sleep, only sat beside him while he did. She never let him out of her sight, save for those times she vanished mysteriously. Eli didn’t follow her anymore. He’d seen as much of her true nature as he cared to, but even if he had taken those chances to open a hole and escape, she would find him. Assuming the spirits didn’t report him at once, she’d told him many times that his soul shone like a beacon. All she had to do was look at her sphere and pick him out. No, if he wanted to escape for real, for good, he would have to convince Benehime to let him go. Of course, he had about as much chance of that as of convincing gravity not to pull him down, but Eli was never one to let impossibilities stand in his way.
Eight months later, he finally came up with a plan. He spent another month refining it, and yet another being the best possible boy Benehime could ever ask for. Finally, when the plan was firmly cemented in his mind and Benehime was in the best mood he could manage, Eli sprang.
They were in the jungle far, far south of the Council Kingdoms. Eli had suggested the place because he knew the Lord of Storms hated the hot, muggy weather and he’d needed as few variables as possible. They were perched in the branches of an obliging tree, their feet dangling lazily in the air. Eli had suggested the spot himself, and he was using the tree’s flowers to make Benehime a crown. The Lady watched, her face beaming with love at the seemingly spontaneous show of affection.
The moment he laid the crown on her head, Eli said the words he’d been rehearsing to himself for the past eight weeks.
“Do you remember the story you told me once,” he said, his voice perfectly casual, “about when you first found Nara?”
Don’t speak her name, Benehime said, adjusting her crown with loving fingers. She’s forgotten, my treasure. Only you matter now.
Eli smiled his best bashful smile and pushed a step further. “Yes, but do you remember how you gave her a wish?”
Benehime laughed and drew him into her lap. Is that where this is going? she said, kissing his cheek. Do you want a wish, too, love? Silly boy, you know I’ll give you whatever you want.
“It’s not so much a what as something I want to do,” Eli said, reaching into the pocket of his beautiful white shirt and taking out the folded piece of paper he’d so carefully snitched the last time they were in Zarin.
Benehime’s smile faded as Eli spread the paper across their laps. It was a wanted poster for Den the Warlord. His terrifying face glared up at them, daring anyone to try for the enormous number written in block capitals below him: five hundred thousand gold standards.
What is this?
“You remember just before my birthday?” Eli said. “When I said I wanted to be on a wanted poster? Well, I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately, and I think I’m ready.”
Benehime leaned back to stare at him, her white face genuinely confused. Ready to do what?
“Get on a poster,” Eli said. “I’ve decided. I want to be a thief. Not just any thief, the world’s greatest thief!”
Love, Benehime said patiently. If you want something, I’ll give it to you. You don’t have to steal.
“It’s not about wanting anything,” Eli said. “It’s about being the best. Bounties are a measurement: The bigger the bounty, the better you are at whatever you did. Den was the best betrayer, and his face is known across the Council Kingdoms. Milo Burch was the best swordsman, and now he’s worth more dead than some nobles see in a lifetime. Den’s bounty alone is five hundred thousand gold! One hundred thousand would buy you a good-sized kingdom. How many people can say ‘I’m worth five kingdoms’?”
Benehime sighed and pulled the flower crown from her head. Her brows were furrowed, a bad sign. She was losing interest. Eli licked his lips. He’d have to play this next part just right.
“I’m going to beat that,” he said, grabbing her hand. “I’m going to be the best thief ever. I’m going to steal everything worth stealing. I’m going to be famous all over, and I’m going to get the biggest bounty ever, twice as big as Den’s. That’s my wish. I want to earn a bounty of one million gold.”
It was the biggest number he could think of. Across from him, Benehime shook her head.
You have the silliest ideas, she said. Why would you want to be a thief?
“Because stealing’s the only thing I’m good enough at,” Eli said, smiling as he raised his hand.
Benehime blinked. Eli was holding the flower crown that, a second before, had been safely grasped in her now empty hands. Suddenly, she began to laugh, reaching out to ruffle Eli’s dark hair with her white fingers.
I can’t deny you anything, she said. All right, tell me what I have to do to get you your poster.
Eli took a silent breath. This was it.
“That’s the thing,” he said, leaning into her touch. “If the bounty’s going to mean anything, I have to earn it myself.”
The laughter vanished from Benehime’s eyes.
Eli’s hands began to shake, but he kept his attention locked on the Lady. If he couldn’t finish this now, he would never escape. “I want to find a thief to teach me,” he said, enunciating each word to keep his voice from trembling. “I’ll learn and—”
Enough. Benehime’s voice had changed. It was cold now, and sharp as a razor. Do you think you can outsmart me?
Eli began to sweat. “I never meant—”
I may not pay much attention to the affairs of humans, but even I know you’re setting up an impossible situation. A million gold? From stealing? You’d have to steal everything of value on the continent.
Eli swallowed. “I—”
You think I can’t see what you’re doing? Benehime’s voice dripped with disgust as she took the crown from Eli’s hand and threw it on the ground far below. I’ve known for some time now that you were changing, Eliton. You tried to hide it, but I kn
ow you better than anyone. I knew you were growing distant. The Lord of Storms tried to warn me. He said you’d change, that you’d turn on me. He told me to make you immortal at the beginning, when you were still a child. But I wanted to wait.
Her hand rose to his chin, delicate white fingers running down the line of his jaw. I wanted to let you grow into your true potential, she whispered. To learn how to truly appreciate what you have here. I trusted that you would choose me above all else, as I chose you, and this is how you repay my faith? A transparent ploy?
“It’s not a ploy!” Eli lied.
Of course it is, Benehime said, slapping his face lightly. You know as well as I do you could never earn a million gold. You thought I was ignorant of things like money and bounties, and you meant to play on that ignorance, getting me to agree to let you run off in pursuit of an impossible goal. Let me guess, the next part was that you’d return to me once you earned your bounty and we’d be together forever, right?
Eli winced before he could hide it. She’d seen straight through him. The woman sitting across from him now was not the Benehime he knew, but the true Shepherdess—ruthless, cruel, and very, very dangerous. His heart began to pound as the hand on his cheek slid down to his throat, the slender fingers moving to press gently on his windpipe.
Come, dear, she whispered. Don’t look so afraid. I still love you more than anything. In fact, I like you best when you’re being sneaky. But we’ll have no more of this leaving talk. You’re mine. My pet. My comfort. My favorite. Now, come and make me another crown and we’ll forget all about this idiocy.
She lowered her hand and Eli gripped his neck, rubbing the bruised skin. If he’d been older, more experienced, he would have dropped the subject and started picking flowers for a new crown, but he was young. Young and desperate, and as he watched what could be his last chance at freedom vanishing before his eyes, he could not help making a final, desperate grab.