“What about a broker?” Josef said. “They talk to each other, right?”
“Actually, that’s a phenomenal idea,” Eli said. “I never thought of using a broker to send information instead of finding it.” He thought for a few seconds and then shook his head. “If we had more time I’d try it, but brokers go to ground when trouble comes, and I’m not about to waste the few hours we have trying to root one out now.”
“What about Nico?” Josef said. “She can jump there.”
“Who’d believe the Daughter of the Dead Mountain?” Eli said, biting his lip. “There’s nothing for it. I’m just going to have to send a message myself.”
“You?” Josef snorted. “If people won’t believe Nico, they’ll never believe you.”
Eli held up his hands. “I admit, aside from you and Nico, there are very few people who know me well enough to know when I’m being sincere, and of those people, only one has the power to bring the kind of help we need. Fortunately, thanks to our guest, I have a pretty good idea where she is.”
Josef gave him a horrified look. “You can’t be serious.”
“Normally I’d agree,” Eli said. “But today is a serious sort of day. You worry about all that king nonsense. I’ll take care of this.”
Josef shook his head. “Just don’t mess it up.”
“Do I ever?” Eli said, but Josef was already walking back to his map.
Eli arched an eyebrow at the king’s back and went to look for Nico. He found her deep in conversation with Tesset, of all people. He approached silently, hoping to catch a snatch of whatever it was they were talking about, but his efforts were fruitless. Both of them fell silent before he was close enough to hear anything.
She walked over when he beckoned. “Spiritualist didn’t work?”
“Not at all,” Eli said, glancing over her shoulder at Tesset, who was watching them. “What were you and the Council man talking about?”
“I was thanking him,” Nico said. “His advice was very useful.”
“Advice?” Eli said curiously. “What kind of advice?”
“Good advice,” Nico said in a tone that signaled the end of that part of the conversation.
For once, Eli took the hint. “Glad to hear it. Now, I was hoping you could do a little repeat of our exercise earlier today. I need another wind.”
“That’s easy,” Nico said. “They’ve been swarming ever since you talked to the first one. I think they want a wizard indebted to them as well.”
“Really?” Eli grimaced. He hated owing favors, and winds were impossible to escape, but he had little choice at the moment. “Can you pick me out a fast one?”
Nico stared up at the afternoon sky for a moment before her hand shot out, pointing at something just above the horizon. “There.”
Eli popped the latch on the window, opening it just enough to stick his hand out. He opened his spirit a crack as well, sending out a beckoning tendril of power. A few seconds later, a strong breeze rushed over his face.
“My,” the wind whispered. “Aren’t you a bright one? Are you the wizard making deals?”
“I am,” Eli said. “And do I have a deal for you. How fast can you fly to Zarin?”
“Where?” the wind said.
“Large city,” Eli said. “West of here on the mainland, white buildings, river through the middle?”
“Oh, there.” The wind circled around them. “Fast enough, if I have reason to hurry. Why?”
“I need you to take a message to the Spirit Court.”
“That’ll cost you,” the wind huffed. “Spiritualists can be pompous.”
“That they can,” Eli said. “But a powerful, clever wind can make them listen, I’m sure.”
“Of course,” the wind said. “If the price is right.”
“Friend,” Eli said, leaning into the breeze. “Today’s your lucky day.”
The wind rushed away from the watchtower feeling extremely pleased with itself. For being a gullible sap, the bright wizard certainly knew how to sweeten a deal. The promise of a personal debt from the human who’d freed Mellinor was a prize indeed, and all for passing on a few words. Plus, he’d been so nice looking, so bright. The wind spun in a circle. It wasn’t every day you met a wizard like that.
By this point, the wind had cleared the strip of ocean between the island and the mainland. It dipped on the warm air, readying itself for the straight push overland to the white city with the tall towers. But as the wind turned west, it jerked to a stop, frozen in the air. For five long seconds the wind hovered, completely unable to move, and then it curled in a deep bow.
“All hail the lord of the west.”
The air flickered as the West Wind suddenly filled the sky, his breezes reaching as far as the wind could see. “Where are you off to in such a hurry, little wind?”
“Zarin,” the wind answered, trembling against the West Wind’s hold. “I promised a wizard I would bring a message to Spiritualist Miranda Lyonette.”
“I see,” Illir said. “And the wizard who gave you this message, he was a bright wizard, was he not?”
“The brightest I have ever seen, my lord,” the wind whispered.
“Thought so,” Illir said. “Very well, give me the message. I will deliver it.”
The wind hesitated. “But,” it whispered. “My deal—”
“Nothing that wizard promises ever comes out as you would like,” Illir said. “I’m taking the message. Give it to me and you will have my high regard.”
“Yes, Lord Illir,” the wind whispered, trembling as it repeated the bright wizard’s words.
“Thank you,” Illir said, freeing the little wind with a toss of his gale. “You may go.”
“Yes, my lord,” the wind whispered, bowing. “Thank you, my lord.”
But Illir was already gone, flying across the sky with the impossible speed only the greatest winds could dream of. With a great sigh, the little wind sped away to brag to its brothers about how Illir himself had stopped just for it, the wizard’s deal already forgotten.
CHAPTER
19
After ten hours of sleep, a bath, and an enormous breakfast, Miranda was a new woman, and the first thing she’d done with her newfound energy was attack the restricted shelves of the Spirit Court archives. She’d spent all morning reading spectacular stories of Spiritualists doing the impossible—talking down erupting volcanoes, brokering peace between warring rivers, even ending a five-year drought by freeing a wind spirit whose capture by an Enslaver had so angered the wind courts that they’d held off the rain in retaliation. There was even a description of the meeting four hundred years ago between the first Rector of the Spirit Court and the Shaper Mountain that had led to the raising of the Spirit Court’s Tower in a single day. The actual deed the Tower was in thanks for had been carefully omitted, but Miranda’s frustration was soothed by the dozens of secrets that hadn’t been crossed out.
For someone who’d given her life to the Court, it was breathtaking reading. It was also infuriating. All of the restricted reports dealt in one way or another with a star. Of course, they were never called stars, but now that Miranda knew what she was looking for, it was easy enough to read through the sometimes excruciatingly vague language and find the truth. The Spirit Court had encountered stars numerous times over centuries of enforcing the good treatment of spirits, but every time the real nature of these greater than Great Spirits had been hushed up and locked away in the archives. It was enough to make Miranda grind her teeth to stubs.
“I don’t understand,” she said, yet again. “What’s the point of hiding this? If we were only taught about stars, told these stories… Look here, the great river Ell that runs through the southern kingdoms is a star. All that time we spent two years ago badgering the Felltris River to flood the fields and not the houses? Wasted. We could have solved the whole thing with one trip down to the southern delta to chat with the river all the others have to listen to.”
Gin flattened his ears against his head with a whine. “Can you please stop talking about stars? You’re going to get us all in trouble.”
