A great tide of power cut her off. Mellinor’s spirit welled up inside her, choking her breath, pushing his way free. He poured out of her, pushing the black water of the river back in a great, shining wave. Through it all, Miranda could only stand there, the conduit of his power, until, all at once, he was gone. The emptiness hit her like an avalanche, and she toppled over. Eli caught her just before she hit the mud, pushing her back onto her knees. But even like that, Miranda could barely keep her balance. She clung to his wet shirt, staring up at the great white wave above them as it invaded the river.
“What is he doing?” she said, her voice trembling. “Why didn’t he listen? We’re supposed to be helping the river.”
Eli gave her face a little slap, startling her back into the present. “He’s being a Great Spirit,” he said, nodding up at the glowing water. “I warned you about this, back in Mellinor, but you were the one who wanted to be his vessel, as I recall. You can’t complain now when he acts according to his nature.”
“He’s going to ruin everything,” Miranda groaned, staring helplessly as Mellinor’s white water invaded the dark river. “We need the river on our side. This isn’t the time for fighting!”
“I think Mellinor knows a lot more about being a Great Spirit than either of us,” Eli said softly. “Trust him.”
Miranda gave him a sideways look. “Must you be so smug about everything?” she grumbled. “I should have left you up top.”
“I told you to,” Eli said. He pointed up with a grin. “Now things are getting going; watch.”
Miranda looked up. Mellinor’s blue water was invading the dark river in every direction. She could feel Fellbro’s fear as it fought the sea for control of its water, but Mellinor’s rage was ironclad, and he did not fall back.
“Mellinor!” The river’s roar had a pleading edge to it. “Don’t do this!”
“You have betrayed your station, Fellbro.” The blue water foamed and flashed.
“You have no right!” the river shrieked, its murky waters racing away. “This is my land! Mine! I will run it as I see fit!”
But Mellinor’s water pressed on without mercy or hesitation, and when he spoke, his voice echoed from all directions. “You relinquished your right to rule the moment you gave your powers away to save your own water. You have acted in a way unbecoming of a Great Spirit, and you know the price for that, same as the rest of us. Therefore, as Great Spirit of the Inland Sea, I, Mellinor, claim your rights as restitution on behalf of your spirits.” The river trembled and fought, but Mellinor’s wave ate everything as his final decree rang out. “Your water is now mine.”
With that, the river’s face shattered, and the entire river flashed the color of sea foam. The wave of power took Miranda and Eli off their feet, tumbling them along the river bottom as the bubble collapsed. But before they could come to harm, the water caught them gently. It carried them in a swell up from the depths, and they broke the river’s surface with a gasp, sucking clean, fresh air into their lungs.
All around them, the river had changed. What had been a dark, stagnant flow now glittered a deep, deep blue. The water glistened with its own blue light, and she could feel the familiar weight of Mellinor’s spirit all through it, comforting and a little apologetic.
“I am sorry,” the water whispered. “I know you wanted a peaceable solution, but we spirits have our own laws that must be upheld.”
“No,” Miranda said, shaking her head. “Being a Spiritualist means understanding and respecting my spirits’ natures. But”—she slapped the water, sending a splash up in the air—“I wish you’d told me what you were going to do before you did it.”
She felt a wave of power that was distinctly like a shrug. “I didn’t know I needed to until I was doing it.”
“I see,” Miranda said. “Well, at least no one can argue that I Enslaved you now. Not after that display.”
“Only idiots argued it in the first place,” Mellinor said. “But”—she felt a motion that could only be the spirit equivalent of a grin—“you’ll like this next part.”
Miranda sank into the water, suddenly alarmed. “What do you mean?”
“He means he’s the Great Spirit of Gaol now,” Eli said beside her. “And everyone knows it.”
Miranda looked at him, confused, and he nodded toward the shore. She followed his gaze, and her eyes widened. The city, which had been a knot of controlled chaos, was perfectly still. The lamps were all burning steady, not flashing, and the dark clouds were frozen in the night sky. On the bank across from them, Miranda saw the army of conscripts standing with their torches. The archers drew their bows when they saw the two floating in the water, but even as they notched their arrows, Mellinor gave a warning rumble, and the bows went limp. The soldiers scrambled, but the bows had lost their tension and refused to draw.