The Spirit Rebellion(61)

“Doesn’t sound very reliable,” Miranda said.

“That depends on the Great Spirit,” Lelbon said. “If they are open to outside assistance, things go smoothly, the problem gets dealt with, and everyone moves on. However, if the Great Spirit does not welcome interference in their affairs…” He trailed off, looking for the right word. “Well, let’s say that things can get complicated, which brings us to my offer.”

“Let me guess,” Miranda said. “Your lord has found trouble somewhere where the local Great Spirit doesn’t want him.”

“More or less,” Lelbon said, smiling. “I can’t go into the particulars of the goings-on. My master is already trespassing on dangerous ground simply by seeking you out. All we’re asking you to do is go to the place and make your own assessment as a neutral party. That’s the job. We would pay your expenses, of course, and my master would be very grateful.”

For a long moment, Miranda was very tempted. It sounded like an interesting problem, and it must certainly be urgent if the West Wind would rather pull her in than wait for the Spirit Court to assign someone. But…

“Strictly for curiosity,” Miranda said slowly. “Where would I be going?”

“Are you familiar with the land surrounding the Fellbro River?” Lelbon said. “The duchy called Gaol?”

Miranda froze. “Gaol?”

“Yes,” Lelbon said. “Medium-sized holding, about four days’ ride from Zarin.”

“I know where it is,” Miranda muttered. This changed everything. Gaol was where Hern kept his tower. “Look,” she said. “You seem to know a great deal about me, so you know I can’t go to Gaol. That’s Hern’s land. If I was seen there at all, everyone would think I was there for revenge. Anywhere else I could maybe help you, but not Gaol.”

“It is precisely because of your history with Hern that we chose you,” Lelbon said seriously.

Miranda’s eyes widened. “You think Hern is involved?”

“Let me put it this way,” Lelbon said, leaning closer. “If he were doing his job as a Spiritualist, would we need to ask your help? We need you, Miranda, exactly as you are. No one else will do.”

They stared at each other for a long moment and then Miranda looked away. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve muddied the Spirit Court’s reputation too much as it is already. If I go and make a scene in Gaol, I’ll be no better than the thief Monpress. Tell your master thank you for the offer, but I can’t do it.”

They sat in silence, and then, slowly, Lelbon stood up.

“Well,” he said, “if that’s your final decision, I won’t insult you with arguments. However”—he reached into the folds of his white robe and drew out a little square of bright, colored paper—“should you change your mind, just give us a signal.”

He pushed the folded paper into Miranda’s hands before she could refuse and turned away, padding across the sand toward the cave’s mouth. Belatedly, Miranda stood up and hurried after to show him out. It was only good manners, though she felt a bit ridiculous playing hostess in a cave. Even so, Lelbon smiled graciously as she ducked with him under the cave’s low-hanging lip and out onto the stony beach.

“I am sorry,” Miranda started to say, but the man shook his head.

“All I ask is that you think about it. After all”—his soft voice took on a cutting edge—“you are the Spiritualist. You must decide how best to uphold your duty.”

Miranda winced at that, but said nothing. Lelbon smiled politely and, after a little bow, walked away down the beach. She watched him go, feeling slightly awkward. After his dramatic and mysterious arrival, she’d thought for sure his exit would be something more dramatic than ambling down the stony beach. But the old man kept walking, his bare feet deftly dodging the patches of stone and broken shells, growing smaller and smaller behind the clouds of sea spray. She was about to turn back into her cave when she caught a motion out of the corner of her eye.

Far down the shore, she saw Lelbon raise his hand, as if he were hailing someone. As his hand went up, a great wind rose, whipping Miranda’s hair across her face as it barreled down the beach. It reached Lelbon seconds after passing her, and the old man’s shapeless robe belled out around him like a kite. As she watched, his bare feet left the sand. He soared up with the wind, the white of his robe like a seabird against the dull gray sky, and vanished over the cliffs. Miranda ran into the water, hoping to see more of his amazing flight, but the sky was empty, and the old man was already gone.