the archives.
Miranda’s thoughts were still circling madly through the same dead ends when, out of the blue, she realized she was overlooking an important source of information. The idea hit her like a slap, and she froze, frightening Eril, who was still hovering above her. He hissed, but Miranda barely noticed, she was too busy examining the new idea from every angle, looking for the flaw. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made, and soon the only flaw she could find was that it had taken her so long to think of this.
Grinning widely, Miranda hopped to her feet, scaring Eril again.
“Mistress,” he said, “what’s wrong?”
“Not a thing,” Miranda said. “Just a change of plans. It’s clear now that I can’t do this on my own, not with the resources I have.”
“But what else is there?” Kirik asked, orange flame leaning out of the lamp.
Miranda grabbed her list off the table and shoved it into her pocket. “I’m going to ask the West Wind.”
“The West…” Eril’s voice trailed off, horrified. “You can’t just call down the West Wind like some common spirit!”
“Why not?” Miranda said, holding out her hand so her fire spirit could return to his ring. “We brought the Court to Osera for him. He owes us. Besides, Illir’s a confirmed meddler. If anyone can get us answers, it’s him.”
“Confirmed meddler?” Eril blustered as Kirik’s fire flowed out of the lamp into the ruby on Miranda’s thumb. “He’s one of the Wind Lords! Mistress, I mean no offense, but you’re human. You don’t understand. If something’s big enough to affect stars, then the Shepherdess is involved. Even if Illir does know what’s going on, he’s not going to risk her anger by telling you.”
“That may be,” Miranda said, “but it doesn’t stop me from asking, does it? Anyway, I don’t think Illir is much of a fan of the Shepherdess. Maybe he’ll be more helpful than you think.”
The records fluttered as Eril spun in nervous circles.
“Relax,” Miranda said. “I’m not going to be sending you to him.”
“You’re not?” The wind in the room fell off as Eril’s circling stopped. “Oh, well, that’s different.”
Miranda rolled her eyes and held out his pendant. Eril returned in a rush, but just before he reached his pearl, he paused. “Remember,” he said nervously, “I had—”
“Absolutely no part in this,” Miranda finished for him. “I know, Eril. I’ll take full responsibility. Now get in. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
The wind gave one final huff before returning to his pendant. The moment he was in, Miranda turned and started for the door.
She hit the stairs and began the climb to Banage’s office at the top of the Tower. Her office now, technically. Miranda blanched at the thought. Master Banage had sent her here for this, to find out what was happening in the world and bring the Court together so they could face it. Eril’s story blended with Mellinor’s in her mind. Stars disappearing, leaving their spirits in upheaval and panic. Two were bad enough, but if this kept going, it could do serious damage to the Spirit World she was sworn to protect.
Miranda set her jaw stubbornly. If Illir couldn’t tell her what was happening, she’d find someone else. She’d do whatever it took, but she would not let this go without a fight. She would not be forsworn in her duty, not when Master Banage had put so much faith in her, and not so long as she called herself a Spiritualist.
With that thought, a new burst of energy flowed through her body, and Miranda picked up the pace, taking the stairs two at a time, then three. She moved faster and faster until she was running full tilt up the Tower. So fast, in fact, that she didn’t even see the Tower Keeper until she ran into him.
Miranda stumbled back as she bounced off the robed man, her conviction forgotten in a wash of mortal embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching to help the Spiritualist she’d knocked over, but her hands froze when Tower Keeper Blint’s cold eyes met hers.
The Tower Keeper took his time standing up. He pulled his formal robe straight and steadied his feet before dropping the shallowest bow he could get away with. “Rector, how fortunate. I had just gone to your office in search of you.”
He said her title like it was the worst insult imaginable, but then, for Blint, it probably was when he had to apply it to Miranda. Blint had been one of Hern’s cronies before the Gaol Tower Keeper’s crimes had been exposed. He’d also been the first to answer Whitefall’s call to betray the Court and the head of the Spiritualists who’d left for the Council. He’d never made any attempt to disguise his hatred for Banage or anyone who was loyal to him, especially Miranda. Of course, the dislike was mutual, and it was only Miranda’s respect for the decorum of the Court that kept her from pushing past the Tower Keeper without a word.
“You should have asked Spiritualist Krigel,” she said, her voice cooling to match his icy tone. “He could have told you I was in the library and saved you a trip.”
“Slipped my mind,” Blint said. “But I should have known you’d take full advantage of the perks of your ill- gotten power.”
Miranda sighed silently. She didn’t have time for this. “What do you want, Blint?”
“Nothing from you,” Blint said haughtily. “I came only as a point of procedure. Doctrine demands that the request for emergency session be delivered to the sitting Rector in person.”
He held out his hand, and Miranda glanced down to see a letter, bound and sealed, between his fingers. She took it without a word, cracking the wax with her thumbnail. The message itself was short, but by the time Miranda’s eyes reached the list of names at the bottom, she was angry enough to spit nails.
“A demand for an emergency gathering of the Tower Keepers to vote on a new Rector?” she cried. “You do know I’ve already called a Conclave, don’t you? The entire Court’s going to be here by tomorrow afternoon. You can’t possibly get enough Keepers in for an emergency session before then, so why even bother gathering the signatures?”
“To prove a point,” Blint snapped. “You might be Rector now, but the Court won’t tolerate Banage’s dictatorship any longer. The man is a traitor, and so far as I’m concerned, you are as well. It may be within your power to call a Conclave, but you wouldn’t be the first appointed Rector to use the emergency rules of the Conclave to bypass a vote and cement your position without the approval of the Tower Keepers.”
For a moment, all Miranda could do was blink at him. “What are you talking about?”
“The Conclave is the Spirit Court’s most sacred gathering,” Blint said. “Called only in dire emergency. It is also the only way for a nonelected Rector to legally maintain her seat beyond the mandated week by using the Conclave to declare a state of emergency.” Blint’s lip lifted in a sneer. “Really, Miranda, did you think we wouldn’t see through such a transparent play by Banage to keep his power even while he’s facing the Council’s justice? It’s a nice try, but it won’t work. That letter bears signatures from over half of the sitting Keepers, more than enough to force a—”
“Is that what you think this is about?” Miranda roared, crushing the letter in her fist. “You think… you actually believe that I called the Conclave because I wanted to keep my position as Rector? Are you paying attention to anything that’s been going on?”
For a split second, Blint’s haughty expression faltered. “I speak for all the Keepers—”
“Get out of my way,” Miranda said, pushing past him.
“Enjoy it now, Lyonette!” Blint shouted as she ran up the stairs. “Tomorrow I’ll see you stripped of your rings and kicked out of the Court for good! A fitting end for a traitor!”
Miranda stopped midstep and whirled around, drawing herself up to her full height. “Blint,” she said, “do yourself a favor. Shut up long enough to listen to your own spirits, and maybe then you’ll understand why I called a Conclave. Meanwhile, stay out of my Tower and stop distracting my Spiritualists from their duties with your idiotic petitions.”
“You can’t order me out of the Tower!” Blint shouted. “I’m a Spiritualist!”
“Really?” Miranda said, throwing the crumpled letter at his feet. “Then start acting like one.”
With that, she turned and stomped up the stairs, leaving Blint staring after her, his face turning redder with each step she took.
How dare he, Miranda seethed. How dare he think she was like him? All that man cared about was position. He wouldn’t care if the whole world was falling apart so long as he was wearing the Rector’s mantle. If it wouldn’t have meant the doom of the Court, she would have made Blint Rector right there on the steps just to get him out
