chaos? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t,” Lelbon said matter-of-factly. “But who else could make stars vanish? They are enormous spirits with an echo of the Lady’s own authority, unassailable by any save a demon as large as that which waits under the mountain. So, either the Master of the Dead Mountain has made his escape at last, in which case I’m sure we’d already know, or the Shepherdess is stealing her own stars.”
“But”—Miranda was openly gaping now—“ why? The Deep Current was vital to the function of the oceans. If my Mellinor hadn’t taken it over, the sea would be falling stagnant even as we speak. And what about the tree at the heart of the Allva? Its loss has thrown the entire forest into a panic. If a demon did half so much, the whole League would be down there. How could the Shepherdess condone such actions? What end could possibly justify such painful means?”
“I cannot presume to tell you the Shepherdess’s mind,” Lelbon said. “One thing, however, is deadly certain. The Shepherdess’s attention is on us, now more than ever. All spirits, especially those large enough to know the consequences of her wrath, are minding her rules to the letter. To do otherwise under such scrutiny would be suicidal folly.”
Miranda stiffened. “Now I understand why you’re here and not Illir himself,” she said. “The Shaper Mountain may have let the cat out of the bag, but the West Wind can’t very well come and talk to a human about the Shepherdess’s affairs, can he?”
Lelbon smiled delicately. “My master did not share his reasoning with me, but I think that is a safe assumption.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” Miranda shouted. “Let it go? Sit back and watch while the Shepherdess yanks her stars out and leaves the world helpless and panicked?”
“Could you do that?” Lelbon said.
Miranda glared daggers at the old man. “Of course not.”
“Then I suggest you find another way,” Lelbon said. “One that works around the Shepherdess, rather than against her.”
Miranda sat back with a disgusted harrumph. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“Well,” Lelbon said, “the first step is to figure out exactly what you want to do.”
“Help the spirits,” Miranda said.
Lelbon sighed. “A bit more specificity would be helpful, Miss Lyonette.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. “Fine. Our problem is that stars are disappearing. When they disappear, they disrupt the world and leave their spirits in chaos. So, the first thing I’d want to do is stop any more stars from vanishing.”
Lelbon shook his head. “If the Lady’s the one calling them back, stopping the disappearances isn’t within the realm of our influence. What’s next?”
Miranda frowned. “If we can’t stop stars from vanishing, then we’ll need to respond to the disappearances themselves. The panicking forest, for example. If I had a team down there, we could ease the strain. Of course, to do that we’d need a way to know which stars have vanished and where so we could get there before the panic could do lasting harm.”
“You’d have to move very fast for that,” Lelbon said quietly.
“I know, I know.” Miranda ran her hands through her hair. “But I don’t know what else to do! I can’t just stop trying.”
“A noble sentiment,” Lelbon said. “But let us think practically for a moment. The stars are scattered all across the world. Many are in places people never go, like the bottom of the sea or high in the mountains. Even if you knew exactly where and when a star disappeared, could you get there in time to do any good? And even if you could, many stars’ spirits are spread out all over the world. Say the star of fish vanished, what would you do? Send your Court to comfort every mackrel who was tearing out his gills in terror because he thinks the world is ending?”
“Are you trying to dissuade me from my duty?” Miranda cried, clenching her fingers so hard her rings dug into her skin.
“I am trying to be reasonable,” Lelbon said. “Has it never occurred to you, Miss Lyonette, that perhaps this time you are in over your head? That the scope of these problems is simply beyond what the Spirit Court can handle, and that by attempting to blindly follow the right path, you risk doing more harm than good? It is true, the spirits suffer when stars vanish, but they won’t suffer forever. Even the greatest panic fades in time.”
He watched her reaction, and when her glare refused to soften, Lelbon pressed a hand to his chest with a deep sigh. “Let me tell you a story,” he said. “Long ago, before I entered the West Wind’s service, I was a scholar of history for the Immortal Empress.”
Miranda jerked back. “You worked for the Immortal Empress?”
“In as much as any junior official can be said to work for an immortal being,” Lelbon responded with a dry smile. “But that’s neither here nor there. You are very young, Miss Lyonette. I don’t say this to downplay your competence, only to point out that your worldview, like most young people’s, tends to center on the present. This isn’t to imply that the current situation isn’t bad, possibly even disastrous, but when you look at the entire sweep of history, you see that bad things happen all the time. Is it not wise, then, to consider what is best in the long run, even if that goes against your feelings in the short term?”
Miranda closed her eyes. “It’s been a very long few days, Mr. Lelbon. I’d appreciate it if you got to the point.”
“My point,” Lelbon said, leaning forward, “is that, as much as you want to help spirits, the Court is simply not equipped to handle this scale of disaster. Say you were to hop on your hound this instant; it would take you, what, four days to reach the Allva rain forest?”
“Three,” Miranda said flatly.
“Three days, then,” Lelbon said. “Now, it’s my understanding you’re one of the faster Spiritualists, but let’s assume for the sake of argument that everyone in the Court could move at your speed if pressed. The Allva is enormous, hundreds of miles of dense trees spread over three river basins that eventually braid together into the Ell, the mother river. If the entire forest is in a panic as you say, it would take thousands of wizards to cover that much ground. Even if you rallied every Spiritualist to your cause, you still wouldn’t have the manpower to handle a single lost star, assuming you could even get your people there fast enough to do any good for a panic that is already in full swing.”
Miranda clenched her teeth. “So I should just ignore my oaths and turn away?”
“You are the Rector Spiritualis,” Lelbon said, leaning back in his chair. “I would never presume to tell you how to run your Court. I can only suggest that you consider the larger picture. Even I know the Spirit Court is fractured. Noble as your intentions may be, think. Is it worth pushing an already battered Court past its limits to offer aid that will be too late and too little to do any good?”
Miranda closed her eyes and buried her head in her hands. “I can’t do nothing,” she whispered through her fingers.
“The Spirit Court is the single greatest human organization for the good of spirits that has ever existed,” Lelbon said. “I would hardly count its rebuilding as doing nothing.”
“You don’t understand,” Miranda said, pushing her head up. “The only reason I’m Rector is because Banage made me. I’m not the one who will rebuild the Spirit Court. The Conclave will reunite us, probably under Blint, who’ll waste no time turning us into an arm of the Council. That’s what we are now, just more of Whitefall’s cronies. I knew the Court was changing when they kicked me out for aiding a Great Spirit, but I thought it was just Hern’s influence. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“If that’s how you feel, why continue as Rector?” Lelbon said. “Why not give it to whoever wants it and strike out on your own?”
“Because I can’t do anything on my own,” Miranda said. “That’s why I need proof. My only hope at this point is to gather enough information about what’s happening with the stars so that when I present it at the Conclave, the Court will realize what it has to do, no matter who’s leading it. They might have gotten caught up in the power of the Council, but every Spiritualist takes the same oaths to protect the Spirit World from harm, even Blint. We may not be able to fix everything, but we can still try. Even if we can protect only a few, that’s better than nothing, and maybe in the process of trying we’ll remember what the Spirit Court’s really about: spirits, not humans.”
Lelbon stared at her. “And do you think it’ll work?”
