The Spirit Rebellion(135)

Miranda glanced at Hern’s water shield. Sure enough, its surface was trembling, warping Hern’s smug face behind a lattice of terrified ripples. Her hand crackled. Skarest was gathering power, obliviously intending to shoot whether she gave the order or not, and so Miranda decided to trust him. She focused on her lightning spirit, letting her power flow through their connection until his arcs were painfully bright. Hern must have felt the power building, for his smug expression began to fall, but it was too late. With an enormous burst of blinding light and terrible power, Miranda let Skarest fly.

What happened next was almost too fast to see. Skarest arced toward Hern, flying in a thousand branches of spidering, flashing bolts. Hern raised his hands to brace the water, but then, a moment before the lightning struck his spirit shield, the wall of water vanished. It fell away in a terrified rush, leaving Hern open, unprotected. He had no time to raise another spirit, no time to get out of the way, no time to do anything but stare unbelieving at the white-hot arc before Skarest struck him square in the chest.

There was a tremendous crack, and Hern flew backward, slamming into the stone wall behind him. Deafening thunder clapped a split second after as Skarest returned to Miranda. Now that Hern’s power was interrupted, Durn broke away from the great stone hand that held him, smashing the enormous grip to rubble as he fought free and went to stand beside Miranda.

Thus, flanked by her spirits, Miranda stood her ground and watched Hern’s slumped body. But the other Spiritualist didn’t move. All around them, the tower was shaking as the stone shell fell away, and a stream of sand returned to the crystal around Hern’s neck. But still, he did not move.

“Did you kill him?” Miranda whispered, looking down at her lightning bolt.

“No,” Skarest sounded very smug. “But he won’t be getting up for a while.”

Miranda let out a breath and cautiously walked over to Hern. She knelt down beside him and, very gently, turned him over. His chest was burned, but not badly. His hair, however, the long blond tresses he prized so highly, was singed beyond recognition.

Miranda stifled a giggle, covering her nose against the stench of burned hair. “How did you know the water would move?”

“Easy,” Skarest crackled. “From the very beginning Hern was a peacock, a liar, and a coward. I knew that a wizard like that couldn’t possibly have a bound spirit willing to take a real killing blow from me on his behalf.”

“Good guess,” Miranda said, standing up.

“Guess nothing,” Skarest said. “If I’ve learned anything from you dragging us to the Spirit Court, it’s that bound spirits take after their Spiritualist. If the wizard’s good for nothing, the spirits won’t be either, doesn’t matter how big or how many.”

Miranda shook her head. She was endlessly amazed at how her spirits could still surprise her. But before she could start giving orders to secure Hern, there was a horrible clatter from the floor below. Miranda jumped and fell into a defensive position, visions of Hern trapping some sort of vindictive, wild spirit to avenge him if he went down running through her head. He was narcissistic enough to do something like that, she thought, gritting her teeth as she turned to face the top of the stairs, which the whatever-it-was was climbing with astonishing speed. But what popped out of the stairwell wasn’t a vindictive spirit, or at least not one of Hern’s. It was Gin, and he burst into the room in a flurry of shifting fur and claws.

“Are you all right?” he snapped, looking her over, then looking at Hern. “Oh, good, you did win. I thought you had when the rock barrier went down, but I had to be sure.”

“What, so you tore all the way up here?” Miranda winced, imagining the beautiful, decorated halls smashed to pieces in Gin’s frantic wake.

Gin gave her a sharp look. “See if I come to help you again.”

Miranda just laughed and shook her head. “Sorry, sorry, I’m very happy to see you. Now”—she shoved her arms under Hern’s shoulders—“help me get this idiot secured.”

Together they got Hern into one of his chairs and tied him tight with a curtain pull. Once he was secure, Miranda plucked off every bit of his jewelry. It was quite a pile, ten rings, five bracelets, and a half dozen necklaces, all humming with power. These she put in the bucket that she’d thrown at him earlier and gave them to Durn.

“Watch him,” she said, giving the rock spirit a firm look. “If he starts to wake up again, club him, but gently; don’t crack his skull. Just keep him asleep, away from his rings, and out of trouble.”