The Spirit War(104)

Miranda frowned. “How many are here?”

“A little over a hundred,” Jason said. “We’re mostly Journeymen Spiritualists down here. The Tower Keepers are upstairs in the private rooms for the most part, or the library.” His hands moved as he talked, and the will-o’-the-wisp followed his fingers like an eerie, blue-green firefly. “We’ve got close to eight hundred Spiritualists still unaccounted for, though I don’t know what’s taking so long. It’s been three days since the Rector called us in. That’s enough time for a determined Spiritualist to get to Zarin from anywhere on the continent.” Jason bit his lip. “You don’t think they’ve all gone over to the Council?”

“No,” Miranda said, shaking her head. “I just came from there. Blint’s in charge, and he had only three hundred a few hours ago. Hern’s old cronies, mostly, but that’s no surprise. They always did prefer politics to spirits.”

“Three hundred,” Jason said with a dismayed sigh. “Still, where’s everyone else?”

Miranda shrugged. “Probably waiting to see how things play out before they cast their lot.”

“Cowards,” Jason said, sneering.

“Maybe,” Miranda said. “But they’re still Spiritualists.” She turned and started toward the stairs. “Speaking of which, I’m going to see Master Banage.”

“Of course,” Jason said. “Good to have you back!”

She waved as he jogged back to the main group to share the good news. Miranda started up the shadowy staircase, Gin slinking behind her.

The climb to Banage’s office was surprisingly short. It was the Tower’s doing, Miranda was sure. Things had always been a little strange inside the stone pillar the Spiritualists called home, but what else could one expect from a tower raised in a day by Shapers? After her unwilling stint in the Shaper Mountain, Miranda was surprised the Tower didn’t move more. Even so, despite the shorter-than-expected climb, she was still out of breath when she reached the landing outside of Banage’s office where Spiritualist Krigel, Assistant to the Rector Spiritualis, was waiting.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

“Sorry,” Miranda panted. “I didn’t even know there was a war until this morning. Where’s Master Banage?”

Krigel jerked his head toward the closed door.

Gin sat down without being asked, stretching out down the long staircase. Krigel gave the dog a nasty look, and Miranda took the opportunity to slip past the old Spiritualist, pushing open the door to Banage’s office as quietly as she could.

The office of the Rector Spiritualis had changed dramatically. The first thing she noticed were the windows. The large panes of clear glass were still there, but they looked out into a wall of solid white stone. Still, the office was not dark. White light radiated from a small, unflickering flame burning at the bottom of a large, metal bowl on the floor. Miranda recognized the fire immediately. It was Krinok, a rare type of chemical fire spirit Master Banage had rescued from a rogue Tower Keeper turned Enslaver back when she was still his apprentice. Krinok’s harsh, white light threw everything into sharp, monochrome relief, but even that couldn’t drown out the light coming from Banage himself.

The Rector Spiritualis was sitting on his desk, which was uncharacteristically empty. For the first time Miranda could remember in many years, he was dressed not in the formal red robes of the Rector’s office, but in a plain, somber suit. Over that, around his neck, the regalia of the Rector Spiritualis shone like a collar of light. The heavy necklace with its golden chain of jewels glowed in a rainbow of colors, humming with power. Even standing at the door twenty feet away, Miranda could feel the enormous pressure of the Rector’s connection to the Tower and, woven into and through that, the power of Banage himself. She took a deep breath, her own spirits waking to the familiar weight of Banage’s soul, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was home.

“Miranda,” Banage said, opening his eyes. “It is good to see you. I wish the circumstances were better.”

“Whatever the circumstances,” Miranda said, walking across the room to stand before him, “it is good to be back.”

Banage smiled, a slight turn of his thin mouth. “Sit,” he said softly, “and tell me what you have seen.”

With a deep breath, Miranda sat cross-legged on the stone floor and told him.

She started from the moment she left Zarin, chasing Sara’s tip about Eli north with Tesset and Sparrow. She told him about entering Izo’s camp and the Council’s deal with the Bandit King. She told him about catching Eli and losing him again. She told him about Slorn and the wondrous things the bear-headed Shaper could do. After that, things got harder. She told him about Sted, about the demon and the League. She told him what she had seen in the arena after Josef beat Sted and about working with Alric to defeat the creature Sted became. Then, after a couple of deep breaths, she told him as best she could about the thing she’d seen in the woods beyond Izo’s camp, the creature made of shadows and hunger, eating the world. Even as she told him, the afterimage of the hideous shape flickered across her vision, forcing her to turn away. When she had control of herself again, she looked her master in the eye and told him how that vision had cemented her decision to go with Slorn to the Shapers. She told him about their arrival at the mountain, her imprisonment, and what she’d seen in the mountain’s memory. She told him about stars, the spirits lifted above all other. She told him all the mountain had told her about the Shepherdess, the sleeping spirits, everything. The world the mountain had shown her was still clear in her mind, the great valley changing between life and death and the endless night sky filled with strange, sparkling lights, but describing it was harder than she imagined. Still, in fits and halts, she told him the whole naked, disjointed truth Slorn had asked her to spread.