The Spirit War (36 page)

Miranda stopped, terrified she’d said too much. Master Banage’s expression was unreadable in the harsh light, but he didn’t look angry. When he spoke, his voice sounded tired.

“Your reasoning is sound as always, Miranda,” he said. “But no matter what, I can never allow this Court to go to war again beside the Council of Thrones.”

“Why not?” Miranda demanded, frustration rising.

Banage looked up, his dark eyes catching hers with a look that killed her anger in one shot.

“May I tell you a story?”

Caught off guard, Miranda nodded.

Banage got up from his desk and walked over to the window, looking out at the lid of solid stone that covered it.

“I fought in the first war against the Empress,” he said. “I’ve told you about it before.”

Miranda nodded again, though, since Banage had his back to her, it scarcely mattered.

“I fought with the fledgling Council,” Banage said, his voice soft. “With Sara.” He looked over his shoulder. “We were younger than you are now, a year out of our apprenticeships, and newly married.”

“Married?” Miranda could scarcely form the word. She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. “You were
married
? To
Sara
?”

“Are married,” Banage corrected her, turning back to the window. “We never formalized our separation. I think we each believe we’ll eventually bring the other around to our way of thinking.”

“But… Sara?” Miranda shook her head. “How?
Why?
”

“I was young,” Banage said. “Sara is a genius and very charismatic in her own way. I’d like to say she’s changed over the years, but she’s always been high-handed, single-minded, and cruel. However, she was also ambitious in a way I’d never seen. She wanted to do things with magic I’d never even imagined. When the Empress attacked, the lands we now call the Council were in chaos. No one had ever seen anything like the fleet that was pounding Osera’s shore. In her desperation, the young Oseran queen threw away centuries of isolationism and begged for help. Zarin was the first to respond, and Sara went with them.”

He took a deep breath. “I’d known for some time that Sara was drifting away from the Spirit Court, doing her own work with money from the Whitefall family. When she said she was following Whitefall to war without even asking permission from the Rector, the Tower Keepers, who did not yet understand the threat of the Empress and had no interest in risking themselves for Oseran pirates, threatened to strip her of her rings and kick her out of the Court. And they would have, but I volunteered to go with her as the
Court’s eyes on the front. That was how I ended up at her side when the Empress’s forces made their second, largest attack on Osera.”

“The project she was working on for Whitefall,” Miranda said, wide-eyed. “Was that the Relay?”

“It was,” Banage said, his voice strangely strained. “The Relay was the only way we kept ahead of the Empress’s forces. By this time, rumors of the Empress’s army were beginning to catch up with its actual size. More and more countries, seeing that this could well spread to their lands if left unchecked, began sending their armies to the coast. But they were a rabble, a hodgepodge of men who’d spent centuries fighting each other. Only the Relay could coordinate them into a force capable of meeting the Empress’s fleet, and Alber Whitefall knew it.

“But that came later,” Banage said, waving his hand. “Before the other countries joined in, Queen Theresa’s ships with their ever-burning fire were all that held the Empire at bay. The event I want to tell you about happened late at night the second day of the attack. I’d left Sara with Whitefall and gone to help the Oserans repel a charge. The Oseran clingfire were simple spirits, easy to direct. I had made a cliff out over the bay and was using my fire spirit to guide the clingfire throwers and sink the incoming ships. But then my stone spirit was hit by one of the Empress’s war spirits, and I fell.”

“You fought a war spirit?” Miranda said, breathless.

“Not at first.” Banage’s voice grew raw. “I fell nearly fifty feet into the sea. My stone spirit shattered beyond repair trying to break my fall. I would have died there, if not for him. As it was, my fire spirit went out when I hit the water. I managed to swim to shore, but I was disoriented. I’d never lost a spirit before, and now I’d just lost two. I did not know what to do with the enormous emptiness that is left when the connection vanishes.”

He stopped for a moment and sat very still. Miranda held her breath, afraid to make a sound. At last, Banage continued.

“When I made it to the beach, the Oseran guard was fighting the siege spirit, or trying to. Swords did nothing. The spirit killed a dozen men as I watched, and then it turned to me.”

Banage lowered his head. “I was terrified and enraged. I knew I was about to die. That I would be crushed, and all my remaining spirits crushed with me. So I did the only thing I could think of. I opened my soul and took control of the siege spirit.”

Miranda’s breath caught in her throat. “You Enslaved it?”

“I tried to,” Banage said, his voice very low. “Desperation is no excuse. I tried to take control of the spirit to save my life in violation of all my oaths. Tried, and failed.”

Miranda looked away, scrambling to get her feelings under control. The thought of Master Banage Enslaving anything nearly made her sick. He was the Spirit Court, the embodiment of everything it stood for, and yet.

“Failed?” she said. “How could you fail? You are the strongest wizard I’ve ever met.”

“Strength has nothing to do with it,” Banage said, shaking his head. “The problem was with the spirit itself. No matter how hard I pushed, it would not bend to my will. It did stop, however. I think it was confused. But then it looked at me. Not looked, exactly, for it had no head to speak of, but I knew it was studying me. And then it spoke.”

Miranda swallowed. “What did it say?”

“ ‘Loyalty to the Empress,’ ” Banage quoted, tilting his head back. “ ‘Always and forever, I will be loyal.’ And then it turned and walked into the ocean, back toward the ships where the Empire wizards waited.”

“It left?” Miranda said. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Banage admitted. “I have asked myself the same question over and over. But one thing was certain. That spirit was not Enslaved. There was no fear in it, no panic. It was bound
through a loyalty so deep, so intense, so
primal
that even with my panicked strength I could not break its will to be faithful to its mistress. A mistress who wasn’t even there.”

Banage ran his hand through his graying hair. “After that, I knew no peace. I kept wondering what kind of person this Empress was to command such loyalty. As Whitefall’s forces grew and the war began to turn around, I saw several of the Empress’s war spirits go down. Every one of them fell fighting to the last inch, and every time I saw it happen, I wondered why? But the war was over before I could find out. The Empress’s ships retreated as quickly as they’d come, and Whitefall, ever the opportunist, used fear of her return to found the Council of Thrones with himself at the head and Sara’s Relay holding it all together.”

Banage looked down at his glowing spirits. “It was around that time that Sara quit the Spirit Court of her own volition,” he said. “I was furious, of course, but she was within her rights. She’d freed her spirits and received the Rector’s approval, done everything properly. I was promoted to Tower Keeper after the war, but Sara was still my wife, and I stayed in Zarin to be with her. But as she spent more and more time in the caverns she’d built beneath the Council Citadel, I began to wonder. Sara gave me Relay points several times during the war, and afterward I went down to the Relay tank rooms often to see her. Even so, she would never let me near the heart of the Relay that lay at the bottom of the large tank she still uses as an office, nor would she ever agree to tell me exactly how the Relay worked. Every time I asked we would fight, and eventually I became suspicious.”

Miranda bit her lip. “What did you do?”

“There was nothing I could do,” Banage said. “Sara wasn’t a Spiritualist, and the Spirit Court had no jurisdiction within Whitefall’s rapidly growing Council. I also had no proof she was doing anything wrong, but I knew. Why else would she refuse to show me?”

“There could have been a reason,” Miranda said softly.

“Do you honestly believe that?” Banage said, turning to face her. “You’ve worked with her, you’ve seen how ruthless she can be. If you were in my position then, would you have come to a different conclusion?”

Miranda shook her head. “What did she say when you confronted her?”

“Nothing,” Banage said bitterly. “She said nothing. The Spirit Court would not listen to me and call for an investigation. They were too busy courting the Council. Everyone was then. So I went to her one last time and told her that if she didn’t show me how the Relay worked, I was leaving. Again, she refused, so I went. I took our son and went as far away as I could.”

“Wait,” Miranda said. “Son?”

It might have been her imagination, but Miranda thought she saw Banage wince. “Yes, I have a son.”

“But where is he?” she cried. “Why have I never heard of him?”

Banage turned back to the stone-blocked window. “He left. Many years ago.”

Miranda cringed at the edge in his voice and dutifully dropped the subject.

Banage continued as though nothing had happened. “I came back to Zarin only when they told me I’d been chosen to be the new Rector Spiritualis, and the first thing I did was try to use the Court’s sway to finally break open whatever Sara was hiding. But by that time the Council was the greatest power on the continent, and I could make no headway. To this day I don’t know what she’s got beneath the Council citadel, Relay or otherwise, but I understand Sara well enough now to know it can’t be good.” Banage shook his head. “As Rector, I have danced to the Council’s tune along with everyone else, waiting for my chance to force Sara to open up and accept the Court’s standards. When Whitefall asked for my help in
the war, I thought I’d finally found it, but I was wrong.” He looked up. “Whitefall doesn’t want change. He wants warriors. I’ve been to war, Miranda, and I am poorer for it. I cannot, will not, order my Spiritualists into that suffering, especially not as ally to an organization that may well be worse than the enemy we’re fighting.”

“How can you say that?” Miranda said, horrified. “I’ll grant Sara’s pretty suspicious, and I’m positive she’s up to no good, but worse than the Empress?”

“Yes,” Banage said. “Weren’t you listening? I told you. I met one of the Empress’s war spirits. I saw firsthand the deep loyalty she commands. It’s not so different from the loyalty our spirits give us as Spiritualists. You can’t fake loyalty like that. Think about it, Miranda. On the one hand we the Council of Thrones, an organization of profit and power built by a merchant prince and a ruthless woman on a work of wizardry so suspect Spiritualists aren’t allowed near it. On the other, we have an Empress who commands the abject love and loyalty of the spirits. Put that way, it’s not a hard choice.”

Banage began to pace. “I gave Sara and Whitefall every chance to make good. I flat out told them I would fight if they would only open the Council to Spirit Court inspection, and I was met with nothing but excuses. Sara does not share our respect for the spirits, nor our duty toward them, and I am tired of playing her game. The more I see, the more I’m convinced that the future she and Whitefall are building isn’t one I want to live in. It may well be that the Empress’s coming is the dawn of a new age for the Spirit Court and the spirits.”

Miranda stared at her master, horrified. “What you’re saying is treason.”

“Is it?” Banage said. “I’ve sworn no oaths to Zarin. My only oaths are here, with the Court and the spirits, and I see no reason to take either to war for a government that cares nothing for them.”

Miranda licked her lips. She knew that calm tone in Master Banage’s voice. He’d already made up his mind. Made it up long ago, it seemed. She wasn’t happy at all with the idea of sitting back and letting the Empress conquer her homeland, but she wasn’t about to go against her master, not after everything he’d done for her and the spirits. Still…

“We must do
something
.”

“We will,” Banage said. “We’ll keep doing what we have done for the last four hundred years—protect the spirits and obey our oaths. Do I make myself clear, Spiritualist Lyonette?”

Miranda swallowed. “Yes, Master Banage.”

“Good,” he said, standing up. “For now, I want you to write up your experience inside the Shaper Mountain. When you’re finished, you have my permission to go through the archives for any information on this Shepherdess and the Great Spirits called stars.”

Miranda perked up considerably. “All the archives?”

“Yes,” Banage said. “The Shaper Mountain did not show you that vision by accident. Far more important than this war is what is happening at the top levels of the spirit world. I want you to find out whatever you can. The Court will not sit idle.”

Miranda couldn’t help grinning. The Spiritualist archives were the repository for the collective knowledge of the Spirit Court. Every Spiritualist report ever written was stored there. Previously she’d had access to only the lowest level of common reports. Now she’d get to read the recollections of the secret missions as well. Bad as everything else seemed, that, at least, was something to look forward to.

“Go on,” Banage said, waving her off. “But get some sleep and food first. You look dreadful.”

Miranda blushed and glanced down at her filthy clothes. “Yes, Master Banage,” she mumbled, dropping a deep bow before
retreating. Her mind might still be racing with everything that had happened, but her body was more than glad to put it all off in favor of food, a bath, and a bed. Smiling at the prospect, she closed Banage’s door softly behind her and went to wake up Gin, who was sleeping on the stairs where she’d left him.

Sara leaned back in the tall armchair, heavy smoke trailing from the corner of her mouth. Alber Whitefall sat across from her, his chin resting on his hands. They were both staring at the blue ball on the table between them as the soft, watery light began to fade.