Blint arched a gray eyebrow at her. “Incompetent, treacherous, and ignorant,” he said, glancing at Sara. “You certainly can pick your champions.”
Sara’s jaw clenched, pressing her lips into a thin line.
“What is he talking about?” Miranda demanded.
Merchant Prince Whitefall looked pointedly at Sara. She tossed down her papers with a sigh and walked over to Miranda, grabbing her arm and steering her toward the large bay window that took up most of the office’s right wall.
Miranda tried to yank her arm away. “What are you—”
“Just look,” Sara said, pushing her toward the window.
Miranda stumbled forward and landed on her knees on the padded window seat, her face inches from the clear glass that separated her from all of Zarin. The city lay spread out before her, every street alive with activity and packed to bursting. But that much she had already seen, and her eyes moved up, following the city east, down the slope of the river, and then up again to the other colossal building that dominated Zarin’s skyline, the Spirit Court’s white tower.
Even from this distance, Miranda knew something was wrong. The Tower looked strange. Its sides were stripped of the usual red banners and the great red doors had vanished. The spiraling windows were gone as well, leaving the Tower smooth and solemn, an impenetrable spire of cold, white stone.
“The Tower is sealed?” she said at last, her voice shaking as the truth dawned on her. Every apprentice in the Court knew the Tower could be sealed, though Miranda had never seen it happen. But… she looked over her shoulder at Merchant Prince Whitefall. “Why?”
“As you no doubt know, our lands are soon to be under siege by a foreign power,” Whitefall said calmly as Sara returned to his side. “Any hope of survival rests on our ability to stand together. To that end, I asked Banage for his help in the fight against the Empress. He refused. The rest you can see.”
So that was it. Miranda swallowed.
“With all due respect, Merchant Prince,” she said, turning away from the window, “the Spirit Court exists to protect spirits from human abuse. We do not go to war.”
Whitefall’s eyes narrowed. “And whose land do you dig your heels into to make that statement? When the Council falls and the Empress makes slaves out of every man, woman, and child, do you think she will spare the Spiritualists?”
Miranda stiffened. “Every Spiritualist swears an oath to protect their spirits, to use them only in self-defense. They are not weapons.”
Whitefall sighed. “So that’s a ‘no’ for you as well, then?”
“I am a Spiritualist of the Spirit Court,” Miranda said. “I follow the will of my Rector.”
Whitefall leaned back in his chair. “And I suppose that appealing to your sense of duty to your country would be a waste of time? No point in reminding you how many of your countrymen will die when the Empress rolls us over because we cannot stand up to her wizards.”
“Or how she owes the Council her life, at the moment,” Sara added, resting her hands on her narrow hips.
Miranda swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. “I owe you my life and my freedom,” she said, picking her words carefully. “But you should know by now, Sara, I choose my oaths over my life every time. But even if helping you didn’t violate my pledge to guard my spirits, I would still say no. I am sworn to follow the will of the Rector. If Master Banage has already refused as you said, then his refusal is the Court’s refusal. Though,” she glared accusingly at Tower Keeper Blint, “apparently some Spiritualists understand their obligations differently.”
Blint rolled his eyes in disgust. “Spare me,” he said. “I’ve followed Banage longer than you’ve worn your rings, little girl. Long enough to see the cliff his absolute refusal to compromise is leading us toward. This is the real world, Miss Lyonette, not some morality play. Standing firm on the letter of our oaths may sound noble, but the reality is that the Empress is coming, and her wizards have no qualms over using spirits in the fight. We will all perish if we do not meet her in kind.”
“So because our enemy abuses her spirits, we must abuse ours?” Miranda cried. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m merely stating fact,” Blint said. “The army with spirits defeats the army without. The Spirit Court represents nearly all of the wizards within the Council Kingdoms. If we all follow Banage and bury our heads in the sand, the Council will be defenseless. The Empress will conquer everything, and if you think she will let an organization like the Spirit Court remain when these lands are hers, then you are delusional.”