“Criminal,” Eli said, his voice grave. “Absolutely criminal. And to think, they spent all that effort putting in a new door when they can’t even be bothered to come down and take care of the metal they’ve got.”
“Yeah.” The metal shook against his hands.
“It’s not right,” Eli said zealously, scratching harder. “That’s a Shaper-made door, too. They’re terribly full of themselves. Entitled. They think the world owes them something just because they spend all their time awake.”
“It’s from the Shapers?” The metal creaked, arching almost like it was trying to look up. “I didn’t know that. Why would something like that be all the way down here?”
“Taking attention and resources away from others, apparently,” Eli said, disgusted. “I bet it’s not even grateful.”
“Yeah,” the metal grumbled as the support beams running along the cistern wall started to creak. “That door thinks it’s so great. I’m the one holding up all the weight.”
“I just can’t believe this,” Eli said. “Hang on, I’m going to go have a talk with it. You stay here and let Banage scratch you. I’ll get us some answers.”
“Yeah!” the door said again.
Eli stood up, motioning frantically for Banage to take his place. After a slight hesitation, the former Rector leaned over and started running his fingers over the metal just as Eli had been doing. The brace sighed contentedly, rolling back and forth like a dog angling to have its belly rubbed. When Eli was sure Banage could keep it up, he turned and shimmied up the ladder to the door.
The polished steel surface was perfectly still, but Eli could almost feel the door leaning away from him. He smiled and hooked his legs under the top rung of the ladder so he could lean back and look at the door directly.
“You’re not talking to me,” he said gently. “I understand. You’re just doing your job, after all. But since we’re going to be together for a while, and seeing as you’re a Shaper door, I was hoping I could ask you a question.”
The door creaked suspiciously.
“I’m no expert on Shapers,” Eli continued undeterred. “But I did notice the mountain swallow in your maker’s mark. Isn’t that the mark of Heinricht Slorn?”
“Absolutely not,” the door answered, its voice surprisingly loud after so much stubborn silence. “Heinricht is a traitor to the Mountain. I was Shaped by Jonath Findel, master blacksmith and loyal student of the Great Teacher.”
“Findel,” Eli said, stroking his chin. “I’ve seen some of his work. Fantastic stuff, really brilliant designs.”
Eli didn’t know a Findel from a fondant, but it didn’t matter. The door was rolling now.
“Absolutely brilliant,” the door agreed, its metal rings humming with pleasure. “I’m a prototype for a new kind of locking mechanism designed specifically for Lady Sara. Of course, I was originally made to stand upright, but as you see, Findel’s design works either way thanks to the coils. True brilliance is utterly adaptable.”
“So when she needed a door, she came to you,” Eli said.
“Of course,” the door rattled with pride. “Who else could switch directions to act as an emergency prison door? Thanks to my Shaper’s work, I’m miles beyond the dull, ordinary metal you find around here.” The door stopped suddenly, and Eli felt himself being looked over. “Just so you know, wizard, I’m completely loyal and utterly unbreakable. You’d have to be Gregorn himself to Enslave me, so don’t even try.”
Eli pressed his hand to his chest. “I would never dream of such a thing. I’m a thief, not a spirit abuser. But”—he raised his voice—“surely a door such as yourself must get bored just sitting around with all this quiet.”
“Of course,” the door said, slumping against the stone lip. “It’s an absolute waste keeping me down here. I’m sure you’re a very tricky sort of thief, but really, there’s no ruse you could pull that would fool me. I’m Shaped.” The door’s voice swelled with pride. “Awakened! I’m a higher form of spirit than anything else you’ll find in this pit.”
Eli nodded in commiseration. “No one to talk to, eh?”
“No one worth the effort,” the door said. “I mean, look around. There’s nothing but the bedrock, who never wakes up, and the metal support, who has the conversational skills of a cockroach. A rather dumb cockroach, I might add.”
At this, the metal rungs Eli was standing on, rungs that, it should be noted, were attached to the metal support brace, began to vibrate. All along the walls, stone dust was falling in little cascades where the support beam met the stone. The door didn’t seem to notice.
“I’m just biding my time until I can get back to a real use of my talents,” it said, turning its interlocked rings in a motion that reminded Eli of a girl tossing her hair. “Sara promised me a place up top in the citadel proper once this blows over, but at this point I’d take anything to get away from these dullards.”
“Dullards?” Eli prompted, moving sideways so he was clinging to the wall instead of the iron ladder.
“These stupid spirits,” the door said. “All they do is sleep. Sometimes I don’t even think they have minds of their own. Why a door like me should have to pick up the slack for such weak, dull, pathetic little creatures I really can’t—”
Eli never got to hear the rest, for at that moment, the cistern’s metal supports jerked free from their rivets and surged upward, hitting the door square on both sides. The door squealed in surprise as the force launched it upward with an echoing clang, tearing its hinges from the stone with an explosion of rubble. It landed a few feet away, crashing into the floor of the cavern hard enough to chip a large piece from the sleeping bedrock. Eli shook his head to clear the ringing from his ears and then looked down to grin at his father, who was standing far below with an utterly amazed expression on his face.
“Stupid door,” the metal support muttered, sliding back into place.
“Stupid door, indeed,” Eli said, giving the metal one last scratch.
The metal purred at the contact and wiggled its rivets back into their holes. When it was securely locked in place once again, the metal went still, falling instantly back into a deep sleep. And down below, Banage was still staring at his son, his mouth opening and closing like a landed fish.
“Eliton,” he said at last, “did you just incite a brawl between two spirits?”
“Yep,” Eli said, swinging up through the now-open top of the cell. “Pretty clever, eh?”
“Clever?” Banage roared. “That was horrible! How dare you take advantage of a poor, gullible spirit’s loneliness to trick it into attacking one of its brethren for your own selfish—”
“You can stay down there if you don’t like it,” Eli said, pulling himself to his feet.
Banage snapped his mouth shut. He stood in silence a few moments, and then, with an air of unassailable dignity, climbed out of the cistern.
“This doesn’t mean I agree with your methods,” he said when he finally made it to his feet beside Eli. “Only that there are larger wrongs that I cannot right if I’m locked in a hole.”
“Spoken like a true Spiritualist,” Eli said. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Banage pressed his mouth in a tight line and said nothing.
“Well,” Eli said. “Not that our time together hasn’t been a delight, but I need to get moving. This has already been one of the longest unintended incarcerations of my career, and I’m not looking to push it any further. I’d suggest you take the back exit.” He pointed through the dark at where he was reasonably certain the service door stood. “Should be easier for a man of your inexperience.”
Banage shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”
Eli sighed dramatically. Rings, of course. “You know,” he said, “you’d probably have better luck demanding your rings from Sara through an official Court petition. I know Miranda would help you draw one up.”
“My rings aren’t why I’m staying,” Banage said. “Watch.”
He closed his eyes, and the weight of his spirit landed on Eli without warning. Banage opened his soul like throwing open a door, and the call that rang through it was deafening.
Far across the cavern, from the direction of the barely visible glow of Sara’s headquarters, a chorus of voices shouted in surprise. A second later, the whole cavern shook with the sound of metal tearing. The floor rumbled as the sound solidified into pounding hoofbeats that grew closer and closer until, just when Eli was sure he’d be deaf for life if this kept up one second longer, Banage’s jade horse burst from the shadows between the tanks and skidded to a stop before its master.
