Miranda swallowed and forced herself to be still, but she couldn’t stop the beads of sweat rolling down the side of her face or the deepening feeling that she was now not only in over her head, but so far out that the bottom had vanished completely.
“You.” The Lord of Storms’ voice was softer now, more human, but Miranda could still feel the words vibrating through her ribs. “Wizard girl. Alric tells me you have an offer?”
Miranda swallowed. “Yes,” she said, proud that her voice trembled only a little. “I understand you are having problems containing the spirit panic that is—”
“You understand?” the Lord of Storms’ sneering voice cut her off. “You understand nothing, human. We are in the middle of the greatest hunt of your age. I have no time for your ignorance. Tell me the offer, if you have one, but don’t waste my patience reaching above your place.”
Miranda tensed in anger, glaring up at the Lord of Storms. Who did he think he was? She’d faced down the Shaper Mountain; she’d taken in Mellinor and answered the Lord of the West’s call for aid. She wasn’t some wizard girl for him to kick around.
“My offer is a simple one,” she said, standing up to meet the Lord of Storms’ glare with one of her own. “The world is in a panic and the League does not have the resources to quell it. I can help you. As acting Rector Spiritualis, I offer you the Spirit Court’s aid. We have over a thousand wizards with centuries of experience handling spirits between us. If you will consent to grant my Court limited access to the League’s gifts, namely instant travel throughout the world and the ability to still and reconstruct spirits, we will handle the panic caused by the vanishing stars, leaving you free to continue your hunt.”
She’d expected the Lord of Storms to be angry at her disrespectful tone, but the tall man only put his hand to his chin, considering. “I give your Court temporary access to the League’s power, and you’ll handle the spirits?” He frowned. “Why do you take so much on yourselves? What are you after?”
“Survival through this crisis with the least amount of life lost, along with the continued peace and stability of the spirit world,” Miranda said hotly. “The same thing we’ve been after since the Court was founded. We’ve already tried smoothing things over ourselves, but we’re only human, as you’re so quick to point out. We can’t be everywhere at once. The League can. So let’s help each other.”
She finished with her chin up, looking at the Lord of Storms dead-on, but he wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He was staring out the window at the stone-paved yard where Gin was waiting, his face set in a deep scowl. “Do you know how we hunt the demonseeds?”
The question caught Miranda off guard, but before she could collect her thoughts, the Lord of Storms answered it himself.
“We listen,” he said, tapping the fall of black hair covering his ear. “When a demonseed awakens, a wave of fear is born with it. When that fear hits the spirits, a great cry arises, and it is that which calls us to our duty. But a cry of demon fear and a cry of loss for something as precious and vital as a star sound very much the same, especially when so many cries happen at once.” He turned to glare at her. “The demon we hunt is a quiet prey. She’s hard enough to track under normal circumstances, but this racket has made the task nearly impossible.”
Without warning, the Lord of Storms leaned down, his face hovering dangerously close to Miranda’s own, and it took everything she had not to duck away. She could feel him all around her, now. The pressure was almost painful, the air alive with the quick pulse of lightning about to strike.
“I tire of waiting while my League wastes its time sorting through frightened spirits,” he said, his low voice booming. “If your Court can quiet the field long enough for us to find and conquer our quarry, I will grant you whatever power you need.”
“My lord,” Alric said, his voice taut with warning.
“It is already done, Alric,” the Lord of Storms said. He straightened up, and Miranda shivered as the enormous pressure subsided. “I’ve decided. The hunt is all that matters. Anyway, they can hardly make things worse, can they?”
“Things can always get worse,” Alric said tiredly. “But if you’ve decided, then that’s that. We’ll still need a pledge for the transfer, though. When can we address your Court?”
It took Miranda several moments to realize this last question was for her. “The Spirit Court gathers for the Conclave this afternoon,” she said. “Everyone alive who’s taken the Spiritualist oath will be there.”
“Conclave?” Alric’s voice shifted from weary to interested in a flash. “Isn’t that the Court’s great meeting, called in times of dire crisis? And doesn’t it usually start with a referendum on the Rectorship?”
Miranda’s cheeks flushed again, with shame this time. “It does,” she said quietly.
The Lord of Storms’ glare swept back to her. “I hope you have not promised more than you can deliver, girl.”
“The Spirit Court will do whatever it needs to ensure the protection of the spirit world whether I’m Rector or not,” she snapped. “We will keep our end of the bargain, Lord of Storms.”
The Lord of Storms laughed then, a great, terrifying sound like thunder cracking directly over her head. “I love it,” he said, grinning wide. “Alric, get it started.”
“Yes, Commander,” Alric said, bowing.
The Lord of Storms nodded and vanished in a flash of lightning. Miranda covered her eyes a hair too late and was left blinking against the afterimage of clouds pouring through a long, white line.
“Well,” Alric said, standing, “shall we get going?”
“We have some time,” Miranda said slowly, glancing out the window as she pulled herself together. “It’s still morning. The Conclave doesn’t start until noon.”
“Then we should certainly get going,” Alric said. “It’s twenty past already.”
Miranda blinked at him. “But the sky,” she said lamely, looking again at the gray morning clouds.
“It’s always like that here,” Alric said. “This is the citadel of the Lord of Storms. The sky reflects his moods, not the time of day.”
Miranda took a deep breath and saved the cursing for later. “Do I have time to get Gin?”
“He’s already in Zarin,” Alric said, taking the sheathed gold sword down from the stand behind him and buckling it to his belt.
Miranda’s head whipped back toward the window. Sure enough, the ghosthound was gone. So was the man who’d introduced himself to her as the League quartermaster when she’d first come tumbling out of the sky.
“We in the League take good care to jump before the Lord of Storms says frog,” Alric said with a smile. He reached out, his hand hanging in the air before her. “Shall we be off?”
Rather than answer, Miranda reached out and took his offered hand. His skin was surprisingly cool and dry to the touch, and as his fingers closed over hers, a white line opened in the air in front of them.
“After you, Lady Rector,” the Deputy Commander said with a smile she would have called wry were his face less serious.
Miranda nodded and, after only a tiny hesitation, stepped through the hole in the world.
CHAPTER
14
Spiritualist Krigel rubbed his knotted hands across his wrinkled face. He was too old for this, he reminded himself. The ache in his chest was constant now, forcing him to take his breaths in short, tight gasps. His heart had been through too much already. Another hour of this kind of stress and he would be dead.
Against his better judgment, he lowered his hands and looked out at the crowd. The circular assembly hall of the Spirit Court was packed to the rafters. As demanded, every Spiritualist who had ever sworn an oath, from the most influential Tower Keepers to the newest crop of apprentices, had answered the call of the Conclave. They filled the raised gallery that surrounded the hearing room floor. Those who’d arrived early and those whose rank demanded deference sat on the benches. The rest piled in wherever they could, a great mass of red robes and nervous shifting.
Below the ring of benches, the white floor was empty, as was the witness stand at the room’s center. This was a formal meeting of the Court, not a trial. Of course, Krigel sighed, you’d think it was his trial the way Blint
