“It’s the one of the rules all spirits must obey,” he whispered. “The first rule the Shepherdess spoke.”
“Rule?” Nico said. She didn’t understand what he was talking about.
Eli nodded. “There are a lot of rules, actually. Humans don’t know them because we’re blind and we don’t need to. But if you’re going to keep looking, Nico, you have to stay away from the sky. If you keep staring at it, bad things will happen.”
“What do you mean ‘bad things’?” Nico said. “How do you know all this?”
Eli leaned back. “A long time ago I made a childish decision that led to a very strange period in my life,” he said slowly. “I learned a lot of things that people aren’t supposed to know.”
“Are you talking about the other Monpress?” Nico said.
Eli smirked. “No, not that. Giuseppe might be an old fox, but this isn’t exactly his area. This happened before my apprenticeship, and it has nothing to do with thievery.” The smile fell off his face, and Eli suddenly grew very serious. “I don’t actually know what you are now, Nico. You’re a demonseed who beat the demon. I’ve never even heard of something like that, and so I don’t know if the rules even apply to you. But, just in case, now that you can see, you should at least know the rules before something comes down on you hard for breaking them. Make sense?”
Nico nodded.
“Good,” Eli said, raising one finger. “Rule one: Don’t look at the sky. Even the winds don’t look at the sky.”
Nico scowled. “But why? What’s wrong with—”
Eli put his hand over her mouth. Nico almost bit it, but she stopped and contented herself with glaring at him until he took it away.
“Rule two,” he said. “Never ask about the sky. Ever. Ever, ever. Now, there are other rules, like don’t tell humans about stars and obey Great Spirits and so forth, but those are the two really important ones. The ones you really can’t break.”
“Why not?” Nico whispered. “And what are stars?”
“Can’t tell you,” Eli said. “That’s a rule. Weren’t you listening?”
Nico crossed her arms with a scowl. “Who made these rules, anyway?”
The laughter vanished from Eli’s eyes, and he looked back and forth, even though the roof was empty as ever. “The Shepherdess,” he whispered at last, his voice so low she could barely hear him. “She makes the only rules that matter in this world. She’s the power around here, and all spirits want to please her, which means any spirit who catches you looking at the sky or talking about it will try to stop you whether they know what you are or not, and if they peek under your coat, the jig is up. They could report you to the League, or worse, the Shepherdess herself.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, just don’t do it. There’s a rule against looking at the sky for a reason.”
Nico tilted her head, still not fully convinced. “And do you know that reason?”
“I have a theory,” Eli said. “But I’m going to leave it at that. Let’s just say that’s a mess even I won’t touch. Now”—he clapped his hands together, making her jump—“let’s move on to the good stuff. I have so many questions.”
Nico stared at him, still trying to catch up with the subject change after all the puzzles he’d dumped on her, but Eli was already on his feet, reaching for her hands to pull her up as well.
“Come on, come on,” he said. “Night is burning, and we have so much to look at.”
She shook her head and let him pull her to her feet. He led her along the stone gutters all the way to his window. Eli swung in first. He was calling for the servants before he landed, demanding food and a whole list of other things that made no sense at all. Nico shook her head and jumped after him, closing the window firmly behind her against the evening chill.
High overhead, ignored and unseen, the outlines of the enormous claws scraped harder than ever on the black dome of the sky.
CHAPTER
10
Heinricht Slorn sat cross-legged on the floor of his cell, staring at the mountain. Looking with that sight that his human mind could still barely comprehend, even after so many years, he could see the pulsing core of the mountain’s strength beneath the cell walls. The power of the spirit flowed like a glacier from its peak to its roots buried in the very foundation of the world. The Shaper Mountain surrounded him, cutting him off from the outside, and yet the more he looked, the closer he came to understanding the world he had seen in the mountain’s memory.
But as he studied the spirit, a tiny sound drew his eyes away from the mountain to the much humbler shape of the vent above his door. Strong as it was, the Shaper Mountain had no dominion over the winds. This deep in the mountain, the Teacher had been forced to create ventilation shafts so his human followers would not suffocate. The vent in Slorn’s chamber was far too small for a man of Slorn’s size, but not all men were Slorn’s size. His ears flicked as the tiny noise sounded again, the light, small sound of leather on stone. Slorn turned his head, bear eyes slowly moving back and forth across his tiny cell, but he saw nothing. In fact, he saw less than nothing, a blank emptiness that was itself telling. He smiled and focused his large brown eyes to see not as spirits saw, but the mundane shape of the physical world, and as he did, the man slowly appeared.
“Hello, Heinricht,” Sparrow said, flashing a superior smile as he straightened up from where he’d landed below the air vent. “Been a while.”
“Not long enough,” Slorn said.
Sparrow shrugged and leaned against the door, his shape flickering. Slorn blinked in annoyance, struggling to keep his eyes focused only on the physical world, the only place where Sara’s little weapon was visible.
Sparrow’s smile widened at his frustration. “Aren’t you going to ask what I want?”
“Why should I ask such an obvious question?” Slorn said. “You’re here to offer me freedom in exchange for joining Sara’s menagerie, correct?”
Sparrow shrugged. “Good guess.”
“It was no guess,” Slorn said. “You don’t have to know Sara long to know she would never let a situation like this slip by without playing her hand.”
“Way I see it, Sara has all the cards now,” Sparrow said, looking around at the small cell. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the mess, haven’t you? Whatever you came to tell your former masters, they must not have liked it since you’re in a cell rather than at the head of a workshop where you belong. Sara can change that.”
“I’m sure she could,” Slorn said. “But Sara’s price is always too high.”
“All she asks is that you share your knowledge,” Sparrow said. “Is that so much?”
Slorn’s calm expression turned into a snarl. “I’ve seen how she treats her people, Sparrow. I’m already a bear. I have no interest in becoming a dog. Besides”—Slorn looked down at the floor, toward the mountain’s roots—“I have unfinished business here.”
“What business can you finish here?” Sparrow said, laughing. “The Shapers are so bound in by law they’ve locked away their greatest asset for a minor transgression from a decade ago. Such people don’t deserve access to talent like yours.” He pushed off the wall, walking across the tiny cell until he was barely a foot from Slorn’s muzzle. “Sara’s different,” he whispered. “She doesn’t care about pasts or traditions, only results. Come with me to Zarin and nothing will ever stand in your way again.”
Slorn looked him in the eyes. “And that is exactly why I’m not coming with you. I cannot work with someone who values only the ends and never the means.”
Sparrow’s face fell. “You’re not exactly in a position to judge, bear man,” he said in a low, sharp voice. “You were the one who led that poor, ignorant Spiritualist girl straight into the Shaper Mountain, knowing full well she’d never be allowed to leave. Tell me, Slorn, is that something a moral man would do?”
“No,” Slorn said. “But I had no choice. I knew when I decided to return to the Shapers that I would never leave this mountain again. That’s why I needed another wizard, someone I could trust, who could hear my argument and the mountain’s reply and take that knowledge where I no longer could.”
