“He’s here,” Gin said. “He’s actually been awake for some time. I didn’t want to bother you, so I asked him to wait.”
Miranda stared, confused. “You asked him to wait?”
“Yes.” The hound grinned, showing all of his teeth. “Nicely.”
Miranda put her aching head in her hands. “Gin, let him up.”
Gin feigned innocence for a few more seconds and then lifted his back rear paw, allowing the king, who at this point looked more like a pig farmer with a good tailor than royalty, to wiggle his way to freedom.
“Honestly,” Miranda said and sighed, giving her companion a final glare before running to help the dirt-caked monarch. “As if things weren’t bad enough.”
Gin lowered his head and began cleaning the mud off his paws, completely unconcerned.
The king’s clothes were nearly black with dirt, and if he’d had a jacket, he’d lost it somewhere, leaving him with nothing but the thin, dirty remains of a white linen shirt that had a large burn mark down the center where Skarest had hit him. Miranda winced at that, and at the marked resemblance between him and his brother. There hadn’t been time to get a good look at him in the clearing, but now that the king was crouched in front of her, the family connection was painfully obvious. The two men had the same long build and blond hair, though Henrith’s was nearly brown with dirt at this point. Also, the king’s face was much rounder than the prince’s, a trait that was emphasized by the dusty, overgrown beard that covered nearly all of his lower face after a week away from the royal barber. When he looked up to see who was helping him, his eyes were the same as Renaud’s. The fear that shone in them, however, was new.
As soon as he recognized her face, he bolted for the trees.
“Wait!” Miranda shouted, jumping to block his way.
The king made a break in the other direction, but Gin stuck his leg out at the last moment, sending the king sprawling into the dirt yet again. Miranda ran to help him up.
“Your Majesty,” she pleaded, helping him turn over. “I am Miranda Lyonette of the Spirit Court. I’m here to help!”
“Help?” the king sputtered, smacking her hands away. “Help!? You shot me!”
Miranda winced, but held her position, standing so that the king was stuck between her and Gin. “I know how this sounds, but you must believe me when I say that that was not my lightning bolt.”
“Really?” the king shouted, pointing at his singed chest. “It felt real enough to me!”
“Just listen,” Miranda said, crouching down to a less threatening height. “That was my lightning spirit, but he wasn’t acting on my command. Your brother, Renaud, is an enslaver, a kind of wizard who uses the raw strength of his soul to force weaker spirits to do his bidding. He took my lightning spirit to make it look like I tried to kill you and he is now using the situation to usurp your throne.”
The king looked at her blankly. “An ensla-what?”
“An enslaver,” Miranda repeated. When comprehension failed to dawn on the king’s face, she added, “A bad wizard.”
Gin chuckled at the simplification, and the king, assuming the noise was aimed at him, went scarlet. “And I suppose it was Renaud who told your dog to sit on me,” he said, pointing accusingly at Gin’s nose.
“Unfortunately, that was his own idea,” Miranda growled. “But it was for your own protection!” she added quickly.
The king crouched in the dirt, eyeing her suspiciously. Carefully, Miranda sat down across from him, trying to look as meek and harmless as she could.
“I know you don’t have much cause to like wizards right now,” she said gently, “but I will swear any oath you like that I am on your side.”
“My side?” the king snapped. “You wizards ruined everything! How can you expect me to believe that you could possibly be on my side?”
Miranda answered honestly. “Because in this situation the fact that I’m a wizard makes me your greatest ally.” She held up her dirty hands where her rings still glittered dully. “I’m a member of the Spirit Court. That means I took an oath to preserve the balance between spirit and man, and to do all I could to prevent the abuse of either. Without the Spirit Court’s rules to guide him, your brother has turned to enslavement, forcing his will on the world and doing permanent damage to the spirits he abuses. By my oaths, by my life, I cannot let him continue.”
She finished, looking as earnest as possible, and the king scratched his dirty beard thoughtfully. “It’s that serious, is it?”