by Rachel Aaron
As the air calmed, Miranda took a deep breath and let herself relax a fraction, leaning back against the entrance to the stone stair as she waited for the West Wind to appear.
And waited.
And waited.
An hour later the afternoon sun was noticeably lower, but Miranda still hadn’t moved. After so long it had become a point of pride not to give an inch. Still, time was short, and she couldn’t stand here forever. After another twenty minutes had ticked by, Miranda was seriously considering making a try for the Shaper Mountain instead when she heard a sound behind her. It was a soft noise, like a bird landing on cloth. It wasn’t a sound that winds made, but Miranda turned anyway and nearly fell off the Tower in surprise.
An old man stood on the Tower’s peak just behind her. A white sheet was wrapped around his bony body, and a pair of spectacles sat on the bridge of his long nose. The cloth’s edges fluttered madly in the high wind, but the man himself seemed unaffected, standing casually despite his tenuous perch.
“Hello, Spiritualist,” he said, smiling at Miranda with the polite, slightly patronizing smile of a scholar who’d rather be doing something else. “I bring you greetings from my master.”
Snapping out of her surprise at last, Miranda crossed her arms at the West Wind’s human servant. “What are you doing here, Lelbon? I called Illir.”
“The Lord of the West is indisposed,” Lelbon said. “But I’m sure I can offer whatever assistance you require.” He glanced at the city below. “Should we go inside? The winds are keeping themselves low as a courtesy, but I’d hate to strain their hospitality. Especially with such a long drop.”
Miranda nodded and motioned for Lelbon to follow as she ducked back through the little door into the Tower. Light as a falling leaf, Lelbon hopped down after her.
“This way,” Miranda said, starting down the stairs. “Your master owes us a great deal. I hope you’re ready to answer some questions.”
“I will do everything in my power to meet your expectations,” Lelbon said, climbing down after her.
Miranda scowled inwardly at his neat dodge, but her face was all politeness again as she led the West Wind’s human representative into the Rector’s office and shut the door behind them.
CHAPTER
6
Sara sat down on the edge of her desk, studying Eli through the trail of smoke rising from the pipe she was working between her lips.
“You’re looking well,” she said at last. “Better than the last time I saw you. Though, considering the last time I saw you, you were being pulled through one of the League’s white portals, that’s not saying much.” She paused. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what actually happened in Osera.”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Eli said flatly. He nodded at the poster-covered wall behind her. “I see you’ve been keeping up with me.”
“Of course,” Sara said with a smile. “I’ve been following your career since the very beginning. I’m very proud of you, Eliton.”
“Proud?” Eli said, cocking an eyebrow. “That’s not something a thief usually hears from his mother.”
Sara shrugged. “I refuse to dismiss brilliance simply because it falls outside of the preset moral structure.” She took a deep draw and held it before finally letting the smoke out in a puff. “Unlike some.”
Eli didn’t have to ask who she meant. “So,” he said, “how hard is old Whitefall laughing now that the Council gets to keep my bounty?”
Sara shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay attention to money. But if you’re worried about your trial, don’t be. You’re going to serve your debt to society under my care.”
Eli sank into the chair. “Lucky me.”
“Least I could do,” Sara said, taking the pipe from her mouth and placing it in the ash-filled bowl beside her. “You’re my son, after all.”
Eli rolled his eyes. “You can lay off the caring mother act, Sara. Do you think for a second I believe you had me brought here for a tender reunion? You left before I was old enough to remember what you looked like.”
“I didn’t go anywhere,” Sara said hotly. “It was Etmon who took you away.”
“And you who made no effort to visit,” Eli countered. “I’ve seen you, what? Six times in my entire life? Counting today?” He shook his head. “You never even remembered my birthday. If you wanted to play the doting parent card, you should have started laying the groundwork years ago. You can hardly expect me to go all misty eyed now.”
“What, you’re angry that I wasn’t there to tuck you in at night? Tell you stories and give you kisses?” Sara scoffed. “Grow up, Eliton. What was I supposed to do? Abandon my research so I could make you eat your carrots and teach you the alphabet? Look around. You are sitting at the center of the largest spirit experiment ever attempted. I am doing amazing things here, things no one even thought to attempt of until I came along. I am reinventing what it means to be a wizard, stretching spirits in ways no one thought possible, and you’re in a huff because I wasn’t a good mother?” She shook her head in disgust. “Any woman can be a loving mother, Eliton. There’s no one else in the world who can do what I do.”
“So what do you want me for, then?” Eli said. “You seem to have your hands full as it is. Why take on a criminal?”
Sara smiled. “You’re a little more than a criminal, Eli Monpress. Don’t forget, I saw you stop the sea itself and make an entire fleet disappear with a single motion not two days ago.”
“Everyone has their time to shine,” Eli said, careful to keep his expression bored.
Sara saw right through him. “All you do is shine, or so I hear,” she said, smiling down at him as she swung her legs, clunking her low heels against the back of the desk. “You forget. I’ve been keeping tabs on you for years. I knew something was different about you almost from the beginning. Even if I hadn’t had a personal interest in you, the stories of your thefts were too grandiose to ignore. Even after accounting for the sort of exponential embellishment one expects in such tales, your exploits went far above even the flare for the dramatic you inherited from your father. And then there’s the matter of Miranda.”
Eli frowned. “Miranda?”
“Banage’s little pet is no slouch wizard,” Sara said grudgingly. “She has the loyalty of several very large spirits and the personal power to back that up, not to mention her unassailable dedication to the Court. The perfect apprentice for Etmon, truly.” Sara smiled brightly. “She’s the child he always wanted you to be.”
“How lucky for them,” Eli said, though the words came out more sulky than he’d meant. Thankfully, Sara didn’t seem to notice.
“When I first heard she was chasing you to Mellinor, I thought it was over,” she went on. “Other than Banage himself, Miranda’s the best the Court has to offer. But I was wrong. You ran circles around her, even to the point of convincing the Great Spirit Mellinor to move into her body.”
“You’ve got that bit backward,” Eli cut in. “She convinced me.”
“But you gave her the idea,” Sara countered. “No Spiritualist would ever think of using their own mortal shell to hold a spirit.”
When he didn’t deny it, Sara slid off her desk. “Almost from the moment of your birth, I knew you’d be a strong wizard,” she said, walking toward him. “How could you fail to be, with your parentage? But what you do goes beyond wizardry, Eliton. I can’t explain the way the world reacts to you, or how the spirits talk of you, when they’ll say anything at all.” She leaned over him, eyes flashing. “That sparks my curiosity.”
Sara reached out and touched his chin, gently lifting his head until he was looking at her. Eli let her move him, meeting her studying look with a flat glare.
“Something happened to you, didn’t it?” Sara said. “After you ran away, but before you became a thief. The signs were there from the first time I heard the name Eli Monpress, but Mellinor sealed it. You command Great Spirits like they’re pebbles. I want to know how
you do it.”
“Easy,” Eli said breezily. “I ask. It’s amazing how obliging the world can be when you’re not being an overbearing, pompous jerk.”
“Really?” Sara said. “And did you just charm the Lord of Storms into letting you use his portals as you see fit?”
Eli shrugged. “The Lord of Storms is another matter, isn’t he?”
“I don’t think he is,” Sara said, straightening up to reach for her pipe again. “Something’s watching out for you, Eliton. Something bigger than any spirit, and that intrigues me greatly. So, I’m going to make you a deal.”
“A deal?” Eli asked, incredulous.
Sara just smiled as she blew the embers in her pipe back to life. “I may not have spent much time with you, but even I remember how you always did love a deal.”
“Go ahead then,” he said, smiling back. “Dazzle me.”
Sara gave him a droll look and took a fresh draw of smoke. “I’m prepared to offer you a clean slate,” she said after she’d blown the smoke at the ceiling. “Officially, you’ll be hung as a thief for your crimes against the noble members of the Council. This is a huge waste of time, but in order for Alber to keep his precious bounty system flowing, I’m afraid you have to die, at least in the public eye. It’s amazing how much of politics is nothing but theater.” She stopped for a long sigh. “Anyway, after the farce, you’ll come here and live with me as a part of my team. I’ll get you a nice salary, a suite in the citadel, and anything else you desire within reason. You’ll be an agent, not a prisoner, and you’ll answer only to me. Otherwise, you’ll have complete freedom within the Council.”
“That’s quite the large piece of bait,” Eli said. “What will it cost me?”
“Only the truth,” Sara answered. “I have dedicated my entire life to the study of spirits. What are they really? Why do humans have power over them? Why are we blind? So many questions, but no matter how hard I press, there are some things spirits won’t talk about. That’s where I think you can help me. I think you know the answers, or enough of them to point me in the right direction.”
“And that’s what you want?” Eli said. “Answers?”
“That’s it,” Sara said, nodding. “Help me, Eliton. Work with me. Tell me what you know and I’ll make all your problems with the Council go away. Together we might finally be able to unravel the mysteries that have held wizardry back, and who knows? You are my son, you might even enjoy it.”
“I doubt that,” Eli said, settling back into the chair again. “I don’t care much for work of any sort. But let me ask you a question, Sara. Supposing you’re right, and I am so greatly in the know, what’s to stop me from letting you fake my execution and just vanishing through a portal as soon as it’s done?”
Sara laughed. “Because, silly boy, you’re still here. If you could have escaped you would have done it ages ago.”
Eli’s smile grew wider. “And what if I’m bluffing?”
“Then you proved you care enough about me to bluff your way into this conversation,” Sara said. “And as much as such a thing would warm my heart, I’m not so blinded by mother love to think you’d waste your time on sentiment.”
Eli looked away. He didn’t have anything to say to that.
Sara took a final puff and tapped out her pipe in the bowl. “Either way, the offer stands,” she said, sliding the pipe into the pocket of her long jacket. “I don’t care about justice or restitution or any of that backward-looking nonsense. You could be the worst murderer in the Council and it wouldn’t matter a jot. All I want are answers. You don’t even have to stay here if you don’t want to. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll let you go free tonight.”
Eli almost laughed at that. “How lucky the Council is to have such a loyal servant. Would you open the Whitefall treasury for me as well?”
“If you wanted,” Sara said. “Don’t be mistaken, Eliton. The Council needs me far more than I need it. I have no qualms about doing whatever is needed in order to reach my goals.”
“I don’t doubt that for a moment,” Eli said. “Thank you for the generous offer, Sara, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline for the time being. Let me think it over in my cell for a bit and I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”
Sara scowled. “What makes you think this conversation is done?”
“Because I’m not going to give you anything,” Eli answered. “That means any further effort on your part would be a waste, and one of the few things I can remember about you is how much you deplore wasting your time.”
Sara’s mouth twitched. “Fair enough,” she said. “Sparrow!”
The door clicked open and Eli winced as a canary-yellow coat came into view.
“Mr. Monpress and I are done for the moment,” Sara said. “Could you escort him to his room?”
“My pleasure.” Sparrow leaned over and snatched up the rope that bound Eli’s hands. “Together again!” he said cheerily. “Do I have to drag you this time, or will you deign to walk?”
“I’ll walk, if it’s all the same to you,” Eli said, standing up. “It’s much easier now that Mellinor’s not trying to drown me.”
“I’m sure,” Sparrow said. He smiled at Sara and turned Eli around, marching them out of the office. The last thing Eli saw was Sara reaching for the box of blue Relays on her desk before the heavy door closed, blocking her off completely.
Sparrow gave him a little shove, and Eli picked up the pace. As they walked across the broad wooden platform, he arched his neck to get a good look at the details he’d missed on the way down. They were at the center of a large cavern below the Council Citadel. It was almost certainly not natural. He’d never seen a cave with walls this straight, but there were no chisel marks on the stone. Wizard-made, then, he realized with a low whistle. He’d thought only Shapers could craft things this large. Sara had been busy indeed.
But high as the ceiling was, Eli wasn’t even standing on the floor. Sparrow was leading them down a suspended walkway that ran between a grid of strange, large, metal objects. Each one was enormous, made of black metal and cylindrical. They spread out in all directions in a grid that ran all the way to the walls.
As Sparrow led him away from Sara’s office, which Eli could now see was built into an enormous version of the metal cylinders around them, he leaned sideways and peered over the walkway edge. Despite the light of the lamps burning on the railing, the black cylinders vanished into the thick shadows far sooner than they should have, leaving him nothing to guess how far down they went or where the cavern’s floor lay.
He would have looked longer, but Sparrow nudged him forward, guiding Eli down one of the many suspension bridges that branched off of Sara’s office.
“So,” Sparrow said as they walked in the dark, their boots thumping on the suspended wood. “Why did you turn yourself in?”
“Who said I turned myself in?” Eli said. “This is quite an involuntary incarceration.”
“So you just fell out of the sky?” Sparrow laughed. “Well, you picked a good time to do it. Word is that Den the Warlord was killed in that scuffle in Osera. The Council’s going to need the cash on your head to pay that tab when the king comes to collect. Say, didn’t the king of Osera used to be your swordsman? That must be terribly awkward.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eli said cheerily. “My only experience with kings is stealing them.”
“Of course,” Sparrow said. “How could I forget? You should know that they’re keeping your capture very hush-hush at the moment. The Merchant Prince has put the soldiers who caught you on lockdown, but that’s only a temporary sop. The Council is a sieve for information. I wouldn’t be surprised if the story wasn’t all over the continent by day after tomorrow. After all, it’s not every day you catch the greatest thief in the world.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Eli said, his voice echoing strangely off the dark metal cylinders. “But what makes you think I care about how Whitefall’s handling m
y capture?”
“Just didn’t want you to blow your escape early,” Sparrow said. “I know you like to make an impression. If you escape tonight, before anyone knows the Council has you, it would be a waste.”
“Escape?” Eli scoffed. “Impossible. I am a model prisoner. Though I must say you’re being an uncommonly thoughtful jailor.”
“I’m a very thoughtful man,” Sparrow said, bringing them to a stop at a gap in the railings. “Watch your step, please.”
They descended down a narrow stepladder into the dark. The great tanks rose around them like iron trees, dark and foreboding. Every noise Eli made seemed muffled, and the farther he climbed, the worse it got. It was like the deeper they went, the more the silence swallowed them, until, finally, they reached the cavern floor.
Eli’s boots hit the stone without a sound. Far overhead, the lanterns on the walkway shone like lights from a distant shore, but down here there was nothing. Only a blackness so heavy it pressed the air from Eli’s lungs.
Tugging his rope, Sparrow led Eli between the tanks. He tapped each one with his fingers as they passed, like he was counting. Eli tried counting, too, but he lost it quickly. The air around them was so oppressive it was actually distracting. It took all his attention just to walk without falling. They went on like this for close to a minute before Sparrow stopped without warning and began feeling around on the floor with his foot.
When he’d found what he was looking for, Sparrow kicked his leg up before bringing his heel down on something large, metallic, and hollow. The blow landed with a muffled clang, and almost at once, something scraped in answer. The grind of stone on metal was shockingly loud in the dense silence as the floor in front of them slid away to reveal a darker, circular patch of blackness two feet across.
“Right,” Sparrow said. “In you go.”
“Down there?” Eli said, leaning over to peer into the abyss.
“ ’Fraid so,” Sparrow said. “I suggest you get climbing, because in another five seconds I’m just going to push you and be done with it.”