forests, golden deserts, and rolling plains dotted with tiny grazing creatures. White-capped mountains rose from the forested hills, their snow-covered peaks cutting through the clouds like islands on a second, sky-bound sea. Deep beneath the oceans, sea trenches scored the heavy layers of stone that filled the lower half of the sphere, cutting down to the glittering red flow of the magma that pooled at the sphere’s lowest point.
Benehime’s eyes flicked past all this with the contempt born of long familiarity, darting past the mountains and the glittering rivers to a wild stretch of sea. The moment she focused on the sea, the Lord of Storms appeared above it. In his true form, he was the size of a small continent and utterly mad, a roving war of wind and water. As she watched, the storm spun in circles, eating the lesser clouds, whipping the sea into a froth. Storm surges forty feet high began to wash over the southern tip of the eastern continent, soaking the desert beneath a brine of terrified water. Benehime watched as a medium-sized city was washed under, and then she turned away in disgust.
Who was he to think he could tell her things she did not already know? She was the Shepherdess, had been the Shepherdess since the beginning. Everything within the sphere was hers alone to direct, to control. In the balance of power between her and her brothers, this was her domain. She turned back to the sphere, looking not at the growing storm, but north to the wooded foothills of the white-capped mountains.
She laid her hands lovingly along the curve of the sky. Angry as she was, there was opportunity here. The Lord of Storms had disobeyed her, raised his sword to her favorite, but he had also forced Eli to use the power she’d given him to travel her sphere freely for the first time in years. He’d shown he was willing to use gifts he’d sworn to her face he would never touch again in order to save his swordsman. What other slips might he be willing to make if pressed hard enough?
A smile spread across her white lips. Now that her darling had decided to play with things she’d warned him against, life was going to be a great deal more difficult for him. Usually, this would be the point where she stepped in to help, but not this time. This time, the Lady decided, she would make Eli come to her. This time, she’d let him stay on the hook, let things get as bad as they could get. Only when he was broken and defeated would he realize what he had thrown away. That, when he begged for her help, was when she would save him and bring him home at last to her side.
Benehime sank down beside her sphere, watching the northern forest where, somewhere, her favorite was sleeping. Behind her, ignored, the claws continued to slide over the edge of her white world while far, far away, too distant for any ears except her own, something screamed in endless hunger. Benehime turned her head and leaned forward farther still, deftly focusing her attention on the tiny world inside the sphere until it was all she knew.
CHAPTER
11
Gin was growling deep in his throat. Miranda reached down and pinched him, hard, but that only sent the growl deeper into the dog’s chest and did nothing at all for the predatory glare the ghosthound fixed on the overdressed man riding in front of them. She pinched him one more time, then gave up, flopping forward against the prickly fur of the dog’s neck. The growling had been going on for nearly two weeks, but she couldn’t really blame Gin. She would growl at Sparrow too if she had the throat for it. Traveling with the man was insufferable.
“He’s too slow,” Gin mumbled through his long, clenched teeth. “He packs like an idiot, can barely set up a camp, wakes up too late, and he eats too much.”
“Why are you still complaining?” Miranda said. “It didn’t help yesterday; it didn’t help two weeks ago. What makes you think it’ll help now?”
“We’d have been there last week if that fool didn’t take two hours every morning getting his clothes right.” Gin’s fur bristled. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and that idiot acts like he’s going to a party every night. And he won’t stop flickering.” The dog shook himself. “If looking at him didn’t make me feel ill I’d eat him just to make it stop.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. That again. She’d stopped pressing the dog for an explanation of Sparrow’s “flickering” days ago, but getting him to stop complaining about it was like asking him to stop growling— impossible. She sat up again, looking over Gin’s ears at the path they’d been following since yesterday. Sparrow was well ahead of them, guiding his nervous horse between the thick trees like a Zarin dandy leading a shy partner through a new and intricate dance. He was certainly dressed the part. His plumed hat, orange silk coat, and chocolate-brown trousers tucked into gold-tooled boots would have been at home in any Zarin ballroom. Here in the ragged woods of the mountain foothills he looked like a misplaced tropical bird.
Gin shook his head, and the growling was back, stronger than ever. “Tell me again why we can’t just leave him in the woods.”
“Because as Sara’s second, he’s the highest-ranking Council official we’ve got,” Miranda said. “And he has all the papers we need to bribe Izo. Trust me, I would have left him at the Zarin gate if I’d thought we could get away with it.”
“Sara would have done better to send more like the other man,” Gin said. “Save us all some time.”
Miranda agreed. The morning they left Zarin Miranda had been met at the gate by Sparrow and another, a man who called himself Tesset. She had no idea if that was his last name or his first, maybe neither. Sara’s goons seemed to be one-name-only kind of people. Unlike Sparrow, however, Tesset had shown up in sturdy travel clothes, a long, brown coat and worn-in boots, and carrying a small pack. She’d been a little concerned that he had arrived with no horse, but she’d found out quickly that the lack of a mount didn’t hinder him. The man could run forever, and Sparrow’s pace wasn’t exactly breathtaking.
Right now, however, he was nowhere to be seen. That wasn’t unusual. Tesset tended to disappear for hours, running ahead to scout the area and keep them on track. Miranda appreciated his skill, but his excursions meant she was alone with Sparrow and the inane conversations he started every few hours. If Tesset didn’t vanish without a word every morning, Miranda would have insisted on scouting with him just for a break.
Gin’s growling hitched, and Miranda looked up to see that Sparrow had stopped. A moment later, she saw why. Tesset was standing beside him, his dull, brown clothes and short, brown hair blending in with the undergrowth. Miranda smiled and nudged Gin forward. She didn’t care if he’d come back to report they were about to be eaten by cannibals; any break in the monotony was welcome.
The two men stopped talking as she approached, and Sparrow’s horse began its terrified dancing that always occurred whenever Gin was closer than ten feet.
“Ah, Miranda,” Sparrow said, getting his horse under control with some difficulty. “Splendid timing. Tesset here was just informing me that we’re closing in on our destination.”
“Two miles straight ahead,” Tesset said, reaching out with a calm, strong hand to grab Sparrow’s horse before it threw him. “We’ve been passing his watchposts for the last two days, so we should be getting a welcome soon.”
“Two days?” Miranda said, glancing around at the deep woods. “I haven’t seen anything.”
“You wouldn’t,” Tesset said. “Unless you knew where to look.”
“Spoken like a true expert,” Sparrow said, leaning over his now subdued horse’s neck. “Tesset here is the closest legal thing you’ll find to a guide for this area.”
Miranda gave Tesset a curious look, and he shrugged his broad shoulders. “I grew up around here,” he said simply. “Of course, that was back when these hills were nothing but a patchwork of ragged gangs, before Izo pulled them all together. In a strange way, Izo’s made it easier for us. If things were still the way they were in the old days, we would have had to bribe half a dozen petty bandit lords by now.”
“The benefits of unified government are myriad for all walks of life,” Sparrow said with a sigh.
Miranda ignored him. “How did Izo do it?” she asked. “Pull the gangs together, I mean. Have there been other bandit kings?”
“None like Izo,” Tesset said, shaking his head. “There’ve been a few leaders whose gangs got pretty big, but nothing on Izo’s level. Right from the start, Izo was smart as well as strong, very charismatic, and, most important, ruthless. He raided other bandits as much as he raided the Council, and eventually there was no one
