The longer the stalemate dragged on, the larger the hole in the Lord of Storms’ chest grew until his entire lower torso was nothing but cloud. The storm was creeping up his neck beneath the high collar of his black coat now, but the Lord of Storms didn’t seem to notice. He just kept staring at Josef over their crossed swords with those uncharacteristically calm eyes. And then, with an ear-splitting crack, the Lord of Storms’ blue-white blade snapped.
The Heart surged forward, carrying Josef through the fading arc of the Lord of Storms’ broken blade. Weaponless, the commander held out his arms, welcoming the Heart of War as it plunged toward the rolling clouds of his open chest. Josef’s eyes widened, and then, with a move that made his head ache, he threw away the vision of the mountain and spun hard, breaking his momentum with a snap.
He felt his will lurch, and his body lurched with it, slamming to a stop. Josef skid to a stop inside the Lord of Storms’ guard with the Heart of War’s edge just touching the swirling clouds of the Lord of Storms’ wound. He stood panting for a moment, centering himself before he dared look up. Above him, the Lord of Storms’ face was open and betrayed.
“Go on!” he growled, the words fading into thunder. “Finish it!”
Josef stepped back, lowering the Heart to his side. “No.”
The Lord of Storms lurched, grabbing Josef by the shoulders. His grip felt more like rain than flesh now, but it was still strong enough to make Josef wince as the League Commander dragged him close.
“You deny me a warrior’s death,” the Lord of Storms whispered. “I thought we understood one another, human. All my life I have served one purpose, and yet I longed for an opponent. Not a demon, but a true equal. Someone who could push me beyond the dog the Shepherdess created me to be.” He looked down, silver eyes bitter as he searched Josef’s face. “I’d thought it could be you.”
“I am your opponent,” Josef said, stepping out of the commander’s weakening grasp. “But I am not your enemy. Not any longer.”
“If you are my opponent, then finish what you started,” the Lord of Storms growled. “My life is at an end one way or another, swordsman. The Shepherdess saw to that. All I ask is that you pay me the same kindness I showed you in our first battle. I offered you a clean death then. An honorable death, facing the sword of a worthy foe. Will you deny me the same?”
Josef’s eyes flicked down. The Lord of Storms’ body was falling apart. His legs were dissolving, as were his arms. Rolling black clouds licked at his face and neck, but no more lightning surged through the thunderheads, and no more thunder rolled through his voice. The Lord of Storms had told the truth. He was dying, fading away.
With a deep breath, Josef closed his eyes and nodded. “So be it.”
The Lord of Storms stepped back, dropping his hands to his sides. He raised his chin as Josef stepped into position, his face calm, his body relaxed even as bits of him blew away. The Heart of War was heavier than Josef could ever remember it being as he raised it to his shoulder, readying the swing. But then, just as his foot slid forward to begin the strike, a loud cry cut the air.
“Stop!”
Josef and the Lord of Storms both jumped as Miranda ran forward, her hands shooting out to grab the Heart of War’s blade.
“Did I not tell you to stay away?” Josef shouted, but Miranda didn’t seem to hear him at all. She was shoving herself between the men with seemingly no care at all that the Heart of War was hanging right over her head.
“How can you do this?” she cried.
Josef opened his mouth to explain that the League man had demanded it, but then he realized the Spiritualist wasn’t yelling at him. She was yelling at the Lord of Storms.
“Why are you throwing your life away?” she shouted. “You were the one who was betrayed! Why should you die here obeying the Shepherdess’s command?”
The Lord of Storms bared his teeth. “Don’t lecture me, woman!” he snarled. “I have the right to choose my own death, and I chose to fall in the line of duty as a warrior should!”
“Don’t talk to me about duty!” Miranda snarled back. “Duty means giving your life freely to a good that’s greater than yourself. It means never compromising your principals, and never letting those who rely on you down. But you said yourself that you were made to be a sword. That you served thousands of years as a sword, and now that the Shepherdess has no use for you, you’ve been cast aside. That’s not duty; that’s abuse! You aren’t forsworn. She abandoned you. What are you doing, giving your life in service of a horrible woman who cares nothing for the world she’s supposed to protect?”
The Lord of Storms closed his eyes in frustration. “Listen, human, and try to understand. It’s done. The Shepherdess is done with all of us. She’s already pulled me apart. You can sit there and judge all you like, but until I dissolve it is my life, and if I wish to end it with dignity, that is none of your concern.”
“That might be true if you were any other spirit,” Miranda said. “But you are the Lord of Storms, and you do have a duty. Not to the Shepherdess or whatever purpose she made you for, but to the League you founded. Those men swore themselves to your service. My Spiritualists swore to use your powers to protect the Spirit World. Every one of those oaths binds you to this world and everything in it, and if you truly are a man of honor, a man of duty, you would understand that your job is to live, not to die here to assuage some sort of wounded warrior’s pride!”
“You think I don’t want to live?” the Lord of Storms roared, looming over her. “You think I want to blow away here, like this? Stabbed in the back by that traitorous woman? I want vengeance, Spiritualist! But I cannot have it.” He held up his hands, now little more than vague shapes outlined by thinning clouds. “I am dead already. A walking corpse with too much power to lie still just yet. What would you have me do? Lead the League to battle while I fade away? If I die here as a warrior, my League and your Spiritualists will at least keep the power I’ve given them, but if I try and linger on I’ll only sap that away and make everything worse.”
Miranda blinked at him in confusion, but then he reached out and grabbed her, his cloud hands swirling uselessly around her arm before gathering enough strength to thrust her away.
“Go,” he said as he pushed her. “Leave me in peace.” When she fell sprawling in the snow, the Lord of Storms’ cold silver eyes flashed back to Josef. “Finish it,” he growled.
“No!” Miranda shouted again, slamming her fist down.
All at once, Josef felt something grab his legs and he looked down to see he was encased in stone up to his waist. A second pillar of stone shot up behind him, grabbing his arms at the wrists and biceps. He started struggling at once, but though he was strong enough to break any of the thin bands of rock, the angle was such that he could get no leverage at all. He could only stand there and thrash uselessly against the bindings.
The Lord of Storms was faring no better. The moment the rock shot up, a great pressure filled the air, and the Lord of Storms froze in place. His eyes were rolling, but he couldn’t move more than an inch in any direction.
Panting, Miranda pushed herself to her feet. Her face was pale and wild, her hair flying behind her, but the pressure didn’t let up and the Lord of Storms didn’t move. He could only stand and stare as she walked forward and thrust out her hand.
“You want to live?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Then live. I offer you power for service, strength for obedience, and part of my life for yours.”
The Lord of Storms didn’t answer. He just stood there, clouds swirling. The wind howled in the silence, blowing around Miranda who stood still as stone with her hand out, palm up.
“Why?” he said at last. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you deserve to live,” Miranda answered. “Because you are still a great and powerful spirit, something we have precious little of, because you are the sworn enemy of that which is coming to devour us all, and because it is my duty. You are a spirit who has been done great wrong. It is my sworn obligation to help you, and I mean to do so.”
Her hand reached out farther, fingers straining. “If the Shepherdess tore you apart, I will hold you together. If you need to draw power, I will give it to you, but you will not die. Now accept the oath. Let me be the strength she took from you, and together we will stop what is about to happen or die facing it, like warriors.”
The Lord of Storms bared his teeth. “This bargain may well kill you, girl. You have a lot of spirits drawing on your life already, and even sundered as I am, I’m a lot bigger than your pet sea was.”
Miranda lifted her chin. “I don’t care. If you are large, than I shall be larger. I am human. Spirits tell me
