The Spirit War tloem-4

by Rachel Aaron

  Miranda caught her breath when he reached the surf. The waves were still lapping despite the Empress’s pressure, but the moment Eli’s boot touched it, the ocean froze. Miranda blinked at the deathly silence that descended on a shore where the sea had gone completely still. The water stood motionless as far as she could see. Even the great breakers on the horizon were frozen midcrest. Overhead, the air was perfectly still as well, the winds holding their breath as Eli walked forward, striding across the smooth water like it was stone.

  When he reached the center of the bay, Eli stopped. He folded his arms across his chest and glared up at the towering wall of palace ships. High overhead, the Empress looked down at him with a haughty sneer. In that whole, still world, they were the only two who moved.

  “Well, well,” the Empress said. “The rat emerges.”

  Miranda blinked. The Empress hadn’t raised her voice, but Miranda could hear her as clearly as though the woman were standing beside her.

  “Come to meet my challenge at last?” the Empress continued, drawing a shining sword from the scabbard at her hip. “Come then, boy. I’ll show you who is truly worthy of the Lady’s favor.”

  “Nara.” Eli said the name like an insult. “You want her? Take her. Love her for another eight centuries. But this?” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the shore. “This land is mine. Go home. No one wants you here.”

  “I am not yours to send away,” the Empress hissed. “You claim this land? Fight to keep it. The Shepherdess has no love for the weak.”

  Eli tilted his head to the side. Miranda could feel the impatience radiating off him even at this distance, but Eli didn’t answer the Empress’s challenge. He just stood there, staring up at the woman with a smile so defeated it made Miranda’s chest ache. And then, without warning, he opened his spirit.

  Eli’s power exploded out of him. It filled the beach, filled the sky, and swept over the Oseran mountains to fill the channel behind them. It expanded and expanded, pressing down so hard Miranda had trouble breathing. And then, at its center, a light brighter than any Miranda had ever seen broke like the sunrise.

  All at once, the world, already bowed in homage to the Empress, turned its back on her and prostrated itself before Eli. Miranda clutched the window’s edge, staring in amazement. She’d seen this once before, in Mellinor, but the scale was totally different now. Everything Eli’s spirit touched woke, and every spirit that woke praised him. The sea flattened to glass below his feet and the winds circled him in supplication. On the island, the mountain woke and began to tremble, the very rock bowing in obedience. The sand on the beach swelled in reverence, burying the soldiers in its eagerness to show its respect, and even the stones of the tower were singing praises. Their song was little more than a buzzing under her fingers, but its meaning was clear. Miranda stood perfectly still, her eyes so wide they hurt. She had been amazed when the Empress opened her spirit, but this was so much more. Terrifyingly more.

  When she found her voice at last, the question was a whisper, more air than sound. “What is he?”

  For a moment nothing answered, and then Durn, sturdiest and calmest of her spirits, spoke.

  “He is the favorite.”

  Miranda caught her breath, trying to remember where she’d heard that term before, but too many new things were tumbling through her head and she couldn’t make it all fit together. It didn’t matter though, for in the next moment, something happened that put everything else out of her mind.

  Out on the glassy sea, the Empress fell as the wind abandoned her. She landed on the deck of her palace ship, crashing into the wood with an impact that made Miranda wince. For a moment the woman lay stunned, and then the Empress curled into a ball, burying her head in her hands as she began to weep. Down on the water, Eli, barely visible beneath his own light, shook his head in disgust and raised his arms.

  All along the Empress’s fleet, from horizon to horizon, white lines began to appear in the air. They fell like unraveling thread, the long, white slits growing until they were as large as the monstrous ships themselves, one for each boat. Miranda swallowed as the sea filled with white. Until this moment, she hadn’t actually realized just how large the Empress’s force was. The sight almost made her laugh. How had the Council ever thought it could win?

  A few seconds after they appeared, the white lines stopped growing. For one breathtaking moment they hung in the air beside the ships, each a shining, pure white beacon. Their light lit up the night, each line reflected in the beautiful, still water below. Tears pricked Miranda’s eyes as the scene the Shaper Mountain had shown them flashed again through her mind—the night sky lit up with a million lights, the things called stars. Unbidden, her eyes drifted up. The sky looked as it always had, enormous and black, the crescent moon hanging almost sulkily just above the horizon. She’d never thought of the sky as empty, but now, compared to the beautiful lights below, Miranda couldn’t see it as anything but.

  Below the blank curve of the night sky, Eli stood before the endless lights, the brightest of them all. He looked around at the white lines, almost like he was counting, and then, with a careless motion, he brought his arms down. In that one movement, the white, glowing lines vanished, taking the fleet with them.

  Miranda rubbed her aching eyes, but when she opened them again, the view was the same. The ocean stretched out to the horizon, dark and empty. Of the Immortal Empress’s innumerable fleet, not a single ship was left.

  Down on the glassy water, Eli’s light was the only one left. Without meaning to, Miranda found herself leaning forward, drawn to his light. But as she stretched for a better look, she saw that Eli was staring back, his eyes pinned on hers despite the distance. She smiled at him, a great, relieved grin. Five minutes ago she’d been ready to kill him. Now he’d just done the impossible and saved them all. But Eli didn’t return her smile. He glared at her, his face bitter and drawn as another light flashed beside his.

  Two white lines appeared on either side of Eli’s head. They fell to his shoulders, shimmering in the night as his own light faded. A second after they appeared, two white arms emerged, long and perfect and glowing like white fire. They reached out, folding around Eli’s neck until they were almost choking him in their embrace. Eli winced as though in pain, but his eyes never left Miranda’s. She stared at him, confused, and then she saw his mouth move.

  It wasn’t like earlier. She couldn’t hear him now. Actually, she wasn’t sure if he was making a sound or just mouthing the words. But his lips were expressive as always, and she could see the words plainly even at this distance.

  Hope you’re happy, he mouthed. Good-bye.

  And then the white arms pulled him back, and Eli vanished without a sound.

  Darkness fell with a physical force as his light snuffed out, leaving the world blacker than anything Miranda had ever seen. She could dimly hear a familiar sound repeating in the distance, but it took her several seconds to realize it was the waves lapping on the beach. The wind howled gently over the tower, a land breeze moving out to sea, carrying with it the smell of fire and smoke, but the sounds of battle were gone. As her eyes adjusted to the new dark, she looked down at the beach to see the Empress’s soldiers standing dumbly. Several simply dropped their swords in the sand and sat down, too stunned by the defeat of their Empress and the disappearance of their fleet to do anything more. In their midst, Josef stood and began rounding them up, calmly announcing that the war was over.

  Miranda wasn’t sure how long she stood there. Half an hour, maybe more. She certainly didn’t know when Nico joined her, but as she turned at last to go downstairs she found the girl standing at the window beside her, staring out at the dark sea with her coat wrapped around her shoulders.

  Miranda winced and backed away. Nico looked terrible. Her pale skin was mottled with bruises all the way to where it vanished beneath her coat. Dried blood caked her hair, and both her eyes were blacked. Her expression, however, wasn’t one of pain, but of dread. M
iranda hovered a moment, unsure what to do, and then Nico spoke.

  “The light woke me up,” she whispered, her voice fragile and raw. “Where’s Eli?”

  Miranda bit her lip, trying to think how best to answer. After several moments, she settled on the truth.

  “I think he’s gone.”

  Nico licked her lips, but she didn’t move. Miranda didn’t move either. They just stood there, side by side, staring into the dark, looking in vain for what was no longer there.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to Lindsay, whose edits, observations, and refusal to pull punches made this book five times what it was when I first gave it to her. Also, a huge thank-you to the hardworking people at the Watkinsville Jittery Joe’s. You are all coffee-making saints. Thank you for letting me take up the corner chair indefinitely.

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