triumph, Miranda and the water pushed together one last time. Then, with an explosive crack, Renaud’s control shattered, and water burst in every direction.
The wave holding Miranda splashed to the ground, and she landed on her back, soaked and gasping beside Gin. The ghosthound shifted his head so that his nose pressed against her heaving side.
“I told you before, thief,” he said, looking at Eli as he nudged Miranda into a sitting position. “My mistress is no weakling.”
Miranda looked at Gin in confusion, still coughing, but there was no time to ask what he was talking about. Renaud was still on the ground. Miranda’s spirit had closed when she fell, but the effects on the enslaver didn’t seem to be fading.
“What did you do to him?” Eli said, reaching down to help her up.
“Exactly what he did to me,” she said, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. “He’s learning the ultimate difference between Spiritualists and enslavers. You see,
With a thundering roar, the water surged toward the dais. Renaud raised his head, his spirit swinging wildly as he tried to reassert his control, but nothing he mustered could stop the wall of furious water rolling toward him, growing larger and faster with each moment. By the time it reached the dais, the wave’s crest brushed the collapsing roof. In a final act of desperation, Renaud threw the brunt of his power at it, stopping the wave for a moment at its peak. But the enslaver’s exhausted, overextended will could not hold back the water’s rage, and his soul crumpled. The wave crashed down with a scream, shattering the stone dais. Miranda got one last look at Renaud’s body as the water tossed him up, his pale face contorted in terror as he plummeted head first back into the swirling water and disappeared beneath the waves.
The moment he hit, the whirling spirit light in the water vanished, plunging the room into total darkness. Miranda gripped Gin’s fur, letting the ghosthound’s heavy breathing be an anchor for her thudding heart. Slowly, her eyes adjusted, and the world began to reinstate itself. The wind whistled softly through the shattered windows and the gaping hole in the wall, peeking in to see what the fuss was about before quickly blowing away. From the darkness where Renaud had fallen came the gentle sound of flowing water, but Miranda could see nothing. The dim moonlight seemed to avoid that section of the throne room. The quiet stretched on and on, and, at last, Miranda took a tentative step forward. She jumped back immediately as something freezing and wet touched her foot. Shivering, she pressed herself against Gin’s warmth and squinted into the darkness.
In the indirect glow of the moonlight, she could just make out a thin layer of water spreading out from the ruined dais. It ran past the fallen stones, over the ruined floor, and under Josef and Nico’s bodies. Gin shivered when it touched him, and Miranda tore a strip out of her ruined skirt to try and stem the flow.
“We have to move,” she muttered. “This water’s like snowmelt. They’ll die if they sit in it much longer.”
“I think temperature is the least of our worries,” Eli muttered, staring into the darkness where the dais had been.
Before she could ask what he meant, a flash pulsed in the darkness and warm, blue light blossomed through the room. Blinking the spots out of her eyes, Miranda turned toward the dais as well, bringing her hands up to shield her eyes. In front of them, floating above the pile of rubble that had been the royal seat of Mellinor, was a tall column of pure, clear water. It hung in the air as if weightless, spinning slowly. The light at its heart was blinding bright, like the glint on a far-off wave. Water poured from its sides like a fountain, rushing in little streams down the rocks to join the spreading pool that was quickly carpeting the entire room in clear, cold water. The turning column slowed, then stopped, and though it had no face, no distinguishing features, Miranda felt its gaze land on her.
“Wizard,” the deep, deep voice shook the castle to its foundations, making little waves in the freezing shallows the throne room had become. “Thank you for freeing me from Gregorn’s legacy. You have saved me from a life of madness and servitude, and I owe you a great debt. To show my appreciation, I will hold back my waters until you and your companions have escaped.”
Miranda stared at the water, dumbfounded. “Hold back your waters?” She looked down at the shallow river lapping at her feet. “Spirit,” she whispered. “Who are you?”
The castle trembled again as the water chuckled, sending little waves splashing against her calves. “I forget,” he rumbled. “My imprisonment has been a long time by my reckoning, but how much longer is it for you humans, with your lives like mayflies? Very well, as another part of my thanks, I will give you my name.” The pillar of water twisted and brightened until its light banished the shadows from the room. “I am Mellinor, spirit of the inland sea.”
CHAPTER 26
The inland sea…” Miranda’s voice wavered.
“All of this land was once my basin,” the spirit rumbled. “From the foothills of the mountains to what is now desert, it was all mine. Until that man came.” The water’s light turned a deep, angry blue. “Though he trapped me deep in the cold stone and stinging salt, I remembered sunlight and moonlight, the wind on my waves, and the madness did not take me.” His voice trembled, and the water began to flow more quickly. “Now, thanks to you, I shall feel the sun and wind again. I shall retake what was stolen, and, after so long alone, my waters shall lap against my shores once more.”
“An inland sea,” Miranda said again. She looked up at the brilliant spirit, shaking to her toes with something that had nothing to do with the freezing water covering her feet. Now she understood how this spirit could have overpowered even the great Gregorn, and why the famous enslaver had used his own life to keep it trapped. The pillar of water floating over the ruined dais was no common spirit that could be trapped in a ring or compressed into a ball. This was the glowing heart of a Great Spirit, one of the masters of the spirit world. Miranda swallowed against the lump in her throat. A Great Spirit who wanted its land back.
“Wait!” Miranda stumbled forward. “Great Spirit Mellinor, wait. Mellinor, that is, the kingdom Mellinor, which now lies in your basin, is home to thousands of people. Millions of spirits have made homes there since you were trapped four hundred years ago. If you reclaim your land, then all of those people and spirits will drown.”
“And what concern is that to me?” Mellinor rumbled. “If it was not for that enslaver, those spirits would never have taken root here. They should be grateful for the time they had.”
“I know Gregorn did you wrong,” Miranda cried. “If I could undo your imprisonment, I would, believe me! But those people, those spirits are innocent! Please, you can’t just drown them!”
“Do not tell me what I can and cannot do, wizard!” The spirit’s deep voice was choppy with rage, and the column of water swelled into a breaking wave. “I take no more orders from your kind,” the water roared, and Miranda braced for impact.
“Now, just a moment.” Eli stepped in front of Miranda, hands in his pockets. His voice was bland and casual, but something in his tone was enough to stop the wave in midcrash. “Is that any way to talk to the Spiritualist who risked her own life to free you?”
The water retreated a bit. “And who are you to defend her?”
“Just a common thief who doesn’t like the idea of drowning.” Eli smiled. “But this girl here”-he slapped Miranda on the shoulder-“she teamed up with her enemies, disobeyed her orders, and stuck out her own neck, all to keep Gregorn’s descendant from enslaving you. Now,” he said, arching an eyebrow, “don’t you think you should at least hear her out?”
The wave fell a bit, almost as if it was embarrassed. “Very well,” it gurgled. “She may speak.”
Eli nodded and nudged Miranda forward. For her part, Miranda was too shocked to do much besides gape.
“You can’t talk to a Great Spirit like that,” she hissed when Eli nudged her again.
“I just did,” Eli whispered. “Now you’d better do your part, or we’re all in the drink.” He pushed her hard, and she stumbled out right in front of the wall of water.
She straightened up, squinting into the blinding light. The spirit loomed over her, and she wished more than anything she had not left her rings behind. Even if her spirits’ powers were nothing to the sea before her, maybe they would at least have some idea how to talk to it.
