reef was her last lead, but even Eril couldn’t fly down to the end of the continent and back in an hour. So, sick of records and with no way to check on a new star even if she did find another, Miranda decided it was time for a break.
One of the perks of being Rector was that she never had to fetch anything for herself. Miranda closed the record she’d been reading and called the apprentice who’d been assigned to her for today. The girl entered meekly, all wide eyes as usual. Miranda smiled her best “I don’t bite” smile and asked for something to drink.
The girl bowed and left, returning not five minutes later with an enormous tray loaded with sweet breads, cookies, biscuits, and a carafe of steaming hot tea. For a moment, Miranda wanted to ask the girl just how much she thought a Rector ate, but one look at the girl’s pale face decided her against needless antagonism. Thanking the girl profusely, Miranda poured herself a cup and tucked in.
Thirty minutes later she was feeling pleasantly stuffed and decidedly more optimistic. She was sipping her third cup of tea and working up the willpower to dive back into the archives when the window on the wall began to rattle. Miranda sprang from her chair, tea forgotten. Running to the other side of the room, she flung the window open. Eril blew in as soon as the glass was out of his way, scattering her papers in the process.
“That was fast,” Miranda said, bending down to snatch her list off the floor.
“Of course,” Eril said smugly. “It’s me, remember?”
Miranda smiled, and then grew serious. “What did you find? How is the reef?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Eril sighed, spinning into her hands. “It wouldn’t talk to me. I told you it wouldn’t. Even if I could get through the water, why should a reef talk to a wind?”
“I didn’t ask you to learn its life’s story,” Miranda said, exasperated. “Was it there?”
“Yes,” Eril said. “From what I could see through twenty feet of water, the reef looked fine.”
Miranda heaved a sigh that was half relief, half frustration. She put her list on the table and leaned over, carefully marking a check beside the reef’s name.
“That’s everyone,” she said. “Not that it means anything with such a small sample.”
Eril blew after her as she stomped back to her chair and flopped into it.
“Maybe I’m overreacting,” she grumbled, rubbing her temples. “Maybe Mellinor just happened to fall onto an isolated incident and stars aren’t vanishing after all.”
Eril blew through her hair. “I wouldn’t say that just yet.”
“Why not?” Miranda asked, looking up. “You said the reef was fine.”
“The reef was,” Eril said, spinning in a little circle. “But I blew over a lot of country on my way down, including the rain forest.”
“The Allva,” Miranda said. She’d never been that far south, but she’d seen maps enough to know roughly what the wind was referring to. “Go on.”
Eril spun faster and dipped, fluttering Kirik’s flame. “Before I threw my lot in with you, I used to spend most of my time flying for the Lord of the South. I flew over that forest a lot, and I remember there was this one tree that was bigger than the others. Much bigger.”
Miranda shrugged. “The forest’s Great Spirit?”
“No, bigger,” Eril said. “There are trees there that stand taller than this tower, but this tree was twice the size of any other. It was enormous, a king of the forest. A king of all trees.”
“A star,” Miranda said, eyes wide.
“I think so,” Eril said, his breeze dipping in a nod.
“What do you mean you think so?” Miranda said, crossing her arms. “I thought you could see this kind of thing.”
“I can, if I’m looking,” Eril said defensively. “The South Wind’s not like the Lord of the West. Illir encourages his winds to look at everything, but when you blow for the south, well, you don’t put your air where it isn’t wanted, if you get my meaning. I had no business with the tree, so I didn’t look at it. That’s why I took a detour this time.”
Miranda smiled. “You wanted to look at the tree.”
“I was curious!” Eril cried.
“That’s fine,” Miranda said, putting up her hands. “So, now you’ve had your look. Is the tree a star or isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Eril said. “It wasn’t there.”
Miranda froze. “Was it cut down?”
“No,” Eril said. “There was no sign of the tree at all, just an enormous hole in the ground.”
Miranda sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “It was a star,” she said. “A forest star, and now it’s missing.”
“Can’t say for sure,” Eril said, blowing across Miranda’s face. “But that’s the conclusion I came to. Also, whatever happened to it, it happened recently. The upturned dirt was still fresh.”
Miranda hopped up and strode to the table, leaning over to write “Allva tree” on her list of stars, along with a thick, black X. “You asked the trees, didn’t you? What did they say happened?”
“I tried to ask the trees,” Eril said. “But I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. The whole forest was in a panic.”
Miranda’s head whipped toward the wind’s voice. “Panic? What do you mean panic?”
“Panic panic,” Eril said. “The way they were carrying on, you’d think a demonseed had built a tree house in their branches.” The wind puffed against her. “If that’s what losing your star does to you, then I’m glad the winds don’t have one.”
Miranda turned away from the table and began to pace. Now that she thought about it, Mellinor had said the sea spirits were panicking when he took over for the Deep Current. If loss of a star sent its spirits into an uproar comparable to demon panic, then this situation was even more dangerous than she’d initially thought. What would happen if the Shaper Mountain vanished? Or Kirik’s great lava spirit? Would the mountains quake and the volcanoes erupt?
“I hate to say this,” Eril put in, “but do you think Eli might be to blame?”
“How do you figure that?” Miranda asked.
“He is a thief,” the wind whispered. “And things are missing.”
Miranda could only blink in amazement. “You think Eli Monpress is stealing stars?”
Eril puffed up around her. “It’s not that far a stretch. He’s the favorite, after all. Nothing is beyond his reach.”
“What does that mean, anyway?” Miranda asked. “Whose favorite is he?”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Finally, Kirik answered. “He is the star the Shepherdess favors above all others,” the fire crackled softly. “Her beloved.”
Miranda closed her eyes. Now that was a terrible prospect: Eli Monpress, boyfriend to the most powerful force in the world. But the more she thought about it, the more the idea rang hollow. When she remembered Eli as she’d last seen him, all she could see was his defeated face as the white arms wrapped around his neck and dragged him through the hole in the world. That was not the face of a smug thief getting what he wanted.
“I don’t think we can blame this one on Monpress,” she said at last. “Whatever else he may be, Eli’s never been an enemy to the spirits. And besides”—her face broke into a smile—“it doesn’t raise his bounty. He’d never waste his time on anything that didn’t make his number bigger.”
“Come on,” Eril said, “his bounty can’t be everything.”
“Want to bet?” Miranda asked, but there was no laughter in her voice. “I worry Eli may be a victim, just as much as any of the others,” she said quietly. “I also worry that the thief may be in over his head this time.”
“Well,” Eril huffed, “if the favorite’s not behind this, then what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Miranda said. “But I mean to find out.”
Her wind moaned. “How? We’ve tried everything.”
“Nonsense,” Miranda said. “We haven’t even begun to try.” But even as she said it, Miranda was keenly aware that she didn’t know where to look next. She could keep plowing through the archives and hope she got lucky, but time was so short, and there were still shelves and shelves to go. The Conclave was tomorrow. If she was going to have sufficient proof to convince the Council to act by then, she needed something faster. But what? Her spirits and the Shaper Mountain were the only ones who dared to break the Shepherdess’s edict of silence, and even Gin couldn’t run to the Shaper Mountain and back before the Conclave, which brought her right back to
