“Wait!” Miranda cried, but it was too late. The mountain’s voice vanished without even an echo. A second later, the platform under their feet shook, and they began to descend. Miranda turned to Slorn, burning with questions, but one look at his face was enough to kill them on her tongue. She’d never seen him so angry. Behind her, Gin was still on the ground with his eyes closed, breathing the deep, measured breaths he used to keep himself calm when he was injured. Even Mellinor would not speak.
They emerged from the ceiling of the Hall of the Shapers to find the Guildmaster waiting for them with half a dozen Shapers spread out in a circle around the descending pillar.
“Heinricht Slorn,” the Guildmaster said. “The Teacher has declared you a threat to the safety of the mountain. You will be taken back to your cell, there to live out the rest of your natural life.”
“What?” Miranda said. “The mountain just said he couldn’t do anything. How is Slorn a threat?”
“Do not speak!” one of the Shapers shouted, but he stopped when the Guildmaster raised his hand.
“Outsiders do not have a voice within the mountain,” the Guildmaster said. Miranda glowered, but the old man wasn’t talking to her. He was talking to Slorn. “The Teacher did not like your knowledge, it seems.”
“Knowledge worth having is rarely pleasant,” Slorn answered. “But I am not convinced the Teacher has truly made his decision.”
The Guildmaster stiffened. “Was the Teacher not clear?”
“He was very clear,” Slorn answered. “But he showed us much before throwing us out. The Mountain has and will always be our teacher, and a teacher does not show his students the truth if he does not wish them to learn. If he truly had no use for Nivel’s and my work, or Miranda’s presence, he would never have called us up in the first place.”
“A wise observation,” the Guildmaster said. “Though you may spend the rest of your life waiting to learn the Teacher’s true intentions.”
“I am prepared,” Slorn said.
“But what about your companion?” the Guildmaster said, turning to face Miranda. “Is she ready? Or have you not told her yet?”
Slorn’s jaw clenched, and a tremor of fear ran up Miranda’s spine. “Told me what?”
“I’m afraid my son has done you a great disservice,” the Guildmaster said. “You see, no outsider who has seen the secrets of the Shaper Mountain is ever allowed to leave.”
“What?” Miranda shouted, turning to stare at Slorn. “What does he—”
The stone beneath their feet erupted, cutting her off. Great hands of white rock burst from the ground and clutched her body, crushing the air from her lungs. She fought the hold on instinct, but all she managed was to hurt her neck, the only part of her body she could still move. Slorn and Gin were caught as well, but when she snapped her head around to look at the Guildmaster, his old face was truly pitying.
“I am sorry,” he said. “But Shaper secrets must be maintained. Out of respect for the great good your order has done for the world, I promise that your life with us will not be uncomfortable.” He gave her a sad smile. “Good-bye, Spiritualist.”
Miranda opened her mouth to tell him exactly what she thought of that, but the stone closed over her head before the words could form, yanking her down into the mountain.
CHAPTER
8
Dawn had barely broken when Eli woke to the feeling of something cold tracing a burning line across his cheek. He gasped before he could stop himself, his body going rigid. Slowly, deliberately, he forced himself to take deep, calm breaths. Only when he was sure his voice was neutral did he dare to speak.
“I asked you not to do that,” he said, opening his eyes.
Beautiful, hated laughter floated through the glowing air as the too-white hand left his face and moved to linger on his chest. Eli swallowed against the bile that rose in his throat. Not now. He couldn’t lose it now.
Benehime lay stretched out in the bed beside him, her white body pressed against his. Eli could feel every spirit in the room watching, their souls bowed in reverence to the White Lady, but the Shepherdess didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was entirely on Eli as she buried her face in the hollow of his throat.
Remember when we used to spend every morning this way? she whispered, nipping at his windpipe with a little burst of the painless fire he’d learned to loathe. You were so happy then.
“I was very young then,” Eli said, shifting away from her as much as he dared. “Why are you here, Benehime?”
Do I need a reason? she said, pushing up so that she was looking at him.