The Spirit War(47)

Miranda caught her breath. Locked in the mountain, she hadn’t even realized it was night. She also hadn’t realized that the moving platform had taken them so high. They must be close to the mountain’s peak.

The Guildmaster stepped off the platform and into the hall, walking briskly across the carved, glowing stone. Miranda pulled her coat tight around her shoulders and followed. The hall was nearly empty, but those few Shapers who were milling between the great stone pillars stopped to stare as the Guildmaster led his prisoners past them and through the middle of the great, white hall.

Miranda stole glances at Slorn as they walked, but the bear-headed Shaper’s face was carefully neutral. Still, the Guildmaster was far ahead, and she decided to risk it.

“What is this place?” she whispered, careful not to look at him.

“The Hall of the Shapers,” Slorn answered, just as quietly. His muffled voice sounded almost wistful.

Before Miranda could ask what that was, the Guildmaster stopped. They were standing directly in the center of the hall, between the moving platform that had brought them up here and the balcony door. The hall’s center was marked with a circle of raised stone carved in looping patterns that made Miranda’s head swim. The Guildmaster stepped into the circle and motioned for them to do the same. When they were all inside, the Guildmaster stepped out again.

“I don’t know why the Teacher bothers,” he said. “I only hope you do not disappoint him, Heinricht.”

Though he hid it well, Miranda could hear the lingering resentment in the Guildmaster’s voice, and she got the feeling he wasn’t used to being excluded from whatever was about to happen. Slorn, however, looked almost relieved.

“I am already outcast and imprisoned,” he said. “What more can he do?”

The Guildmaster’s face darkened. “Do not take these things lightly. The Teacher’s decision is final, but even he is not without mercy.” The old man leaned in, dropping his voice. “For once in your life, Heinricht, bow your stubborn head and ask the Teacher’s forgiveness. Let me welcome my son home once again.”

Slorn met the Guildmaster’s gaze. “I will do what I have to, father. Just as I always have.”

Miranda’s eyebrows shot up, but before she could comment, the Guildmaster made a sharp gesture and the floor below their feet began to move. She scrambled for balance as the entire circle of stone began to rise upward, taking them with it. She caught one last glimpse of the Guildmaster as the old man’s face fell, collapsing from anger to a look of deep sadness. Then he was gone, hidden by the rim of the rising stone pillar.

She turned to Slorn. “Father?”

“Yes,” Slorn said.

She gave him a look of disbelief. “Your own father locked you up?”

“He is Guildmaster first,” Slorn said. “There will be those among the Shapers who will say he is being too lenient with me, letting me see the Teacher. I am an oath breaker, after all. Shapers are sworn to the Mountain for life, but we ran when Nivel became a demonseed. It doesn’t matter that they would have killed her if we stayed; we both broke our oath as Shapers.”

Miranda folded her arms across her chest. “You could have told me.”

“I could have,” Slorn said. “I could have told you a lot of things, but anything I told you in the cell I would also have told the Teacher.”

“What do you mean?” Miranda said. “There was no one there but us.”

“This is the Shaper Mountain,” Slorn said. “It is always listening.”

Miranda frowned. “Who is the Teacher, then?”

“You’ll know when you see him,” Slorn said.

Miranda bit her lip. She was getting pretty sick of these half answers, but Slorn would say nothing more. In the end, all she could do was watch in silence as the stone above them lifted away, and the rising pillar vanished into the hall’s ceiling with a soft scrape.

They were in another vertical tunnel. Glowing stone surrounded them on all sides, filling the air with cold, white light. The pillar of stone under their feet seemed to have no end. It rose slowly, pushing them farther and farther up into the mountain. Miranda arched her neck, trying to see where they were going, but she saw nothing except the endless white. Still, things were changing. The air was growing colder and thinner, the light brighter.

Just as Miranda was starting to feel light-headed, the platform began to slow. Stone scraped overhead and the white walls of the tunnel fell away, leaving them standing in a brilliant white glare. Miranda covered her face, blinking furiously. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the brilliance, and she saw that they were standing in another enormous, white chamber.