The Spirit War

CHAPTER 18

Eli watched in amazement from his place in the equally amazed crowd as the corner of the palace where Josef and Adela’s drama had been playing out suddenly fell straight down. There was no warning, no crumbling, no falling stone. One moment Adela was standing with her sword at Josef’s throat, unknowingly incriminating herself to all of Osera, and the next the entire western side of the palace had flattened as though stepped on by an enormous, invisible foot.

For three heartbeats, the people simply stared, and then the crowd turned as one and began to stampede out of the square. Tesset calmly retreated to the recessed entry of a nearby building as the tide of people surged past. Eli dove behind him far less calmly, pressing himself flat against the painted door as far from the panic as he could get. He was thinking about picking the lock when a wind’s voice giggled in his ear.

“Helping you was more fun than expected,” the wind said. “Now, you said you’d make it worth my while?”

“Of course,” Eli said, recovering instantly now that there were deals to make. “How about a favor of your choosing from the prince of Osera?”

“A favor from a human?” the wind puffed, considering. “That’s a fine turnaround. I’ll take it. I’ll call him when I think of something.”

“Do, please,” Eli said.

But the wind was already blowing up into the sky to tell the others about how a human owed him a favor.

Tesset patted down his collar where the wind had blown it up. “You do realize that when the wind comes to claim that favor, the spirit-deaf Prince Josef won’t be able to hear him.”

“Winds like having favors more than claiming them, in my experience,” Eli said. “But if it does ever come to that, I’m sure the wind will find a way. They’re very resourceful.”

“I’m sure,” Tesset said, eyes darting pointedly to the square. “You should look to your young lady.”

Eli followed Tesset’s look and saw, without surprise, that Nico was no longer beside them but across the square and pushing her way toward the palace wreckage. With a long-suffering sigh, Eli started after her. Tesset went with him, gently pushing the panicked people out of their way with his long arms.

They caught up with Nico at the edge of the crushed palace. Eli was about to ask why she’d stopped when he felt it. The Heart’s spirit was still open, sitting on the wreckage of the palace’s western corner like an invisible mountain. Another step and Nico would have been on the ground like everything else.

The Heart had done a very neat job, crushing only the area around Josef and Adela but leaving the rest of the palace intact. It looked like someone had dropped a brick on this corner of the building, ripping away the walls and the roof but leaving everything else mostly intact. Servants were already peering over the ragged edge from the now-open rooms, their eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Where the Heart’s spirit was open, however, nothing moved. Even the dust was pressed indelibly into the ground. The stone wall had been crushed into the palace’s foundations by the Heart’s weight, bringing the roof down to eye level from the ground, and there, lying on her back and half buried under a cascade of cracked tiles not a foot away, was Adela. She lay completely still. So still that, for a moment, Eli thought she was dead. Then he saw her chest rise in a tight, tiny gasp, and he realized the truth. She was crushed, like everything else. In fact, the only thing not crushed beneath the Heart’s enormous weight was Josef.

He sat at Adela’s feet, watching her with a disgusted look. When he saw the three of them waiting at the edge of the destruction, Josef stood, walked over to what looked like a tangled ball of steel, and held out his hand. With a squeal of ripping metal, the Heart cut up through the twisted steel like a knife through ribbon and leaped into Josef’s grip, its hilt pressing firmly into its swordsman’s palm. The second Josef’s fingers closed on his sword, the monstrous weight lifted.

There was a whoosh of air as the winds rushed to fill the void. Josef let it blow over him, breathing deeply as the bleeding from his shoulder eased, then stopped altogether. When the wound was staunched, he turned and walked back to Adela. Now that the weight had lifted, the princess was coughing and struggling to roll over. She’d made it to her side by the time Josef reached her, and Eli saw her eyes widen in fear as she brought her hand up with a silver flash.

The Heart was there before she finished, the black blade slamming down just above her fingers. A spirit screamed, and Adela looked down in horror.

Just above the guard that protected her fingers, Adela’s sword was now little more than a ripped metal edge. On the ground in front of her, the rest of the bright steel blade twisted like a trapped snake beneath the Heart of War. The metal screamed as it thrashed, but every scream was fainter than the one before it. Finally, the sword fell still, its light fading like a dying ember, leaving the blade motionless, dark, and dead in the rubble.

“No,” Adela whispered, her fingers trembling on the hilt of her broken sword. “No. It’s impossible.”

Josef looked away in disgust. “Nico?”

Nico was behind Adela before Josef finished speaking her name, her hand coming down on the back of the princess’s neck. The blow hit with a solid thwack, and Adela slumped forward, her eyes fluttering closed.

“That should keep her for a bit,” Josef said, leaning on the Heart.

Nico stepped over Adela’s body to stand beside him, her eyes locked on his blood-soaked shoulder.

Josef began to fidget under her scrutiny. “I’ve had worse,” he muttered.

Nico’s eyes widened, but she let it lie.

“Well,” Eli said, stepping onto the rubble as well. “Now that that’s over, what next?”

“Get to the queen,” Josef said. “Before Lenette hears her daughter failed.”

“What about…” Eli tapped Adela’s body with his boot.

“They can handle it,” Josef said, nodding over Eli’s shoulder.

Eli turned to see the admiral and several guards marching toward them across the now-empty square. When he turned back, Josef was already off, trotting into the palace through the sundered wall with Nico hot on his heels. Muttering the usual curses about bullheaded swordsmen, Eli ran after them. Tesset followed a step behind, swift and silent as a shadow.

The wall the Heart had collapsed at this level turned out to be the outer wall of the pantry. Josef ran through the stocks of grain and flour, bursting through the door to the kitchen with a swift kick. The kitchen staff screamed and scrambled to get out of the prince’s path. Eli called out apologies as he ran past, but he stayed right on Josef’s heels as they cleared the kitchens and started up the servant’s stair toward the queen’s chambers.

They’d reached the third floor and were rushing toward the royal wing when Josef skidded to a stop, causing Nico and then Eli to run into him.

Eli poked his head around Josef’s broad back. “What is it n—”

The question died in his throat. Queen Theresa was at the other end of the hall. She was in a dressing gown, her face sweat soaked and pale as death. Long white hair tumbled loose from her head, the wispy ends nearly brushing her bare feet. Lenette was at her side, and the queen clung to her with skeletal hands. A small knot of worried guards trailed behind them, following the queen and her lady as they made their way slowly down the hall.

It was Lenette who saw Josef first. Adela’s mother stopped in her tracks, her face suddenly stricken, as though she’d seen a ghost. Theresa stumbled at the sudden stop and raised her head, her eyes lighting up as she saw her son.

“Josef,” she said, her voice relieved. “They said you were fighting Adela.”

Josef didn’t seem to hear the queen. His eyes were locked on Lenette. “You,” he hissed, marching forward. “Get away from my mother.”

Nico started to follow, but Eli grabbed her shoulder. Lenette, on the other hand, stepped forward, putting herself between the queen and Josef.

“My queen!” she cried. “This man is a murderer. He killed his cousins and now he comes for you. Look at the blood on him.” She clutched her chest with a sob. “Where is my daughter, killer?”

“Step away, Lenette!” Josef shouted, walking faster. “It’s over. Adela confessed. We know everything. You’re an agent of the Empress left here to destabilize Osera after the war, and you trained your daughter to follow in your footsteps. You’ve been poisoning the queen for years, but your treachery ends now. Step away!”

Theresa looked at her lady-in-waiting. “Lenette?”

But Lenette’s face had changed. She glared at Josef with open hatred, and that was when Eli saw her hand flash.

“Josef!” he shouted.

He was too late. Lenette’s hand flew from her skirts, the knife flashing silver before it plunged into the queen’s chest. Josef and the guards rushed forward, dragging Lenette off the queen, but Lenette twisted free with surprising strength. She staggered, the knife dripping red in her hands.

“Long live the Empress,” she said, raising the knife to her own throat.

Eli winced and turned away, but it didn’t save him from the unmistakable thump as Lenette’s body hit the floor. When he looked back, she was lying crumpled on the carpet at the center of a spreading, dark stain. Josef didn’t even look at her. He dropped the Heart and ran to his mother, falling to his knees as he dragged the queen into his lap. Theresa’s dressing gown was more crimson than white now, and her breath came in ragged little gasps. Her face, however, was calm.

“Josef,” she whispered. “Listen.”

“Stop talking,” he said, pressing one hand against her wound as he slid his free arm under her. “We’re going to get you to the surgeon.”

“No,” she ordered, grabbing his hand with surprising strength. “For once in your life, mind me.”

Josef froze, letting his mother guide his hand up to her face.

“Listen,” she said again. “You’ve never made a secret of how much you hated being a prince, and for that I’ve tried my best to spare you, but now I’m afraid we no longer have a choice.” She took a shuddering breath. “The throne of Osera has endured for centuries. Through our history we have lived as outcasts and pirates, shunned by all. I spent my life pulling us out of that pit, turning Osera into a land of prosperity and peace. Now the Empress comes again, and now more than ever we cannot fall. Promise me, Josef. Promise, no matter what happens after, no matter your feelings, you will take the crown and lead our people through this crisis.”

Josef gripped her hand. “Mother, this isn’t—”

“Promise me,” the queen gasped, pulling herself up until her face was inches from her son’s. “One last battle,” she whispered, clutching his fingers. “Swear to me you will not let Osera perish.”

Josef pressed his lips to her pale forehead. “I swear, mother,” he whispered. “I swear it.”

The queen fell back with a pained sigh. “You are all witnesses,” she said, glancing at her guard. When they nodded, she turned back to Josef, reaching up to touch his cheek with her thin, bloody hand.

“Hail the House of Iron Lions,” she whispered, her voice little more than a breath.

“Hail the House of Iron Lions,” Josef repeated. “I will not fail you, mother.”

For a moment, Eli thought he saw the queen smile. Then her body shuddered one last time, and she lay still.

The guards began to creep forward, but Josef didn’t move. He sat on his knees, cradling his mother’s skeletal body. He made no sound, no noise at all, but when the light shifted, Eli saw his cheeks were wet, and he realized Josef was crying. He looked away at once, painfully aware that he was seeing something he shouldn’t. But the moment was just that, a moment, and by the time he’d turned away, it was over.

“You there,” Josef said to the closest guard.

The guard stepped forward with a salute, and Josef stood up, bringing his mother’s body with him. “Take the queen,” he said, gently passing Theresa’s body to the guard. “See that she is laid in state.”

“Yes, majesty,” the guard said softy, taking the queen as gently as he could.

Josef stepped back, his hands lingering on the dark stain that covered the front of his shirt, though whether it was his blood or his mother’s, Eli couldn’t tell.

“You.” Josef looked at the next guard. “Bring someone to clean that up.” He nodded at Lenette’s body. “The rest of you, I want whoever’s in charge of the military to report to the watchtower at once. Every man who can hold a sword is to report for duty immediately.”

“Everyone, sir?” the guard said.

“Yes,” Josef answered, scooping up the Heart as he marched down the hall. “The Empress is here. We’re going to avenge our queen.”

The guards looked at each other, their faces pale with disbelief. Then, in unison, they saluted and began to divide the prince’s orders between them.

Eli watched them work for a second, and then he jogged after Josef.

“You’re serious about this?”

“I made a promise,” Josef said, walking faster. “I intend to see it through.”

“All right,” Eli said softly. “But if it’s war we’re talking about, I should point out that we have a problem.”

Josef sighed. “What?”

“The Relay,” Eli said. “Adela destroyed both of Osera’s points. I don’t know if you had a chance during all that to actually look at the ocean, but the Empress’s fleet fills the horizon. There’s no way Osera can stop all that on its own. If we’re going to survive, we have to get word to the Council immediately for reinforcements.”

“That’s not a problem,” Nico said.

Eli glanced at her. “Pardon?”

“We’ve got a Council representative following us.”

Everyone stopped and looked at Tesset.

“What a remarkably good point, Nico,” Eli said, all smiles.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Tesset said. “I don’t have a Relay point on me.”

Eli blinked. “That’s a bad joke, sir. You want me to believe that Sara let you loose without an ear in your pocket?”

“Relay points are short these days,” Tesset said with a shrug. “And I was going to a country that had two points of its own.”

“Well, that’s just perfect,” Josef grumbled, resuming his previous pace. “A Council watchdog with none of the benefits.”

“You should be counting your luck,” Tesset said, falling into step beside him. “I did just watch a known conspirator of the world’s most notorious thief become king of Osera without comment, after all.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Eli said. “But outing us would have hurt your cause too, so don’t pretend you’re doing us a favor. If you actually want to be useful, you could think of a way for us to get word to the mainland.”

Tesset scratched his chin. “What about the Spirit Court? Osera has a Tower just like anywhere, and Spiritualists are always talking among themselves.”

Eli looked at him, genuinely impressed. “That is a surprisingly good suggestion,” he said. “To think, the Spirit Court, useful at last!”

By this time they’d reached the back door of the palace. A crowd of guards was waiting in the kitchen yard, whispering nervously as they stared down the mountain at the fleet stretching across the horizon.

“You,” Eli said, grabbing the closest solider. “Would you be so kind as to fetch us Osera’s Spiritualist?”

The guard stared at him in confusion. “Sir?”

“Do it,” Josef snapped.

The guard, obviously not sure if the traitor prince’s orders should be obeyed, took one look at Josef’s bloody front and enormous sword and decided to save his doubts for later. He bowed and ran down the hall as fast as his legs could carry him, pausing only to salute the admiral as the old man appeared from another door flanked by the queen’s guards who’d witnessed her death.

“Prince Thereson,” the admiral said, falling to his knees at Josef’s feet. “My king, I just heard. Forgive me for insulting you with my suspicions.”

“Get up,” Josef sighed. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Yes, my lord,” the admiral said, standing.

“What’s our situation?”

“Not good,” the admiral said. “I’ve sent fast ships to all the villages and the bells should be ringing any moment now to summon the sailors to their posts. With any luck, the runners will be ready to sail within the hour, but without clingfire, I don’t know—”

A great jangling racket of bells drowned out the rest of his report. More bells followed, until the entire city shook with the clanging sound.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Josef shouted as a military carriage pulled up through the palace’s eastern gate. “What about the guard?”

The admiral’s face paled. “When the princess turned traitor, she killed out the barracks. The sergeant…”

“Beechum, sir,” the closest guard put in.

“Beechum,” the admiral said. “He’s taking the body count as we speak, but it may be a while before we know how many guardsmen are still in service.”

“Why so long?” Josef said as he climbed into the carriage.

“If I may, sir,” the guard said, holding the carriage door as Eli, Nico, and the admiral climbed in after Josef. “The princess was our captain like Theresa was our queen. She raised most of us up from the city guard, and we were loyal to her like none other. Some of the men still don’t believe she betrayed us. If I hadn’t seen the queen’s death with my own eyes…”

“She was certainly thorough in her treachery,” Josef muttered, leaning out the tiny window. “Just tell the sergeant to send whatever guards he can down to the storm wall. Meanwhile, I want the city watch to start moving people toward the western docks. Get them as far from the east coast as you can. I want Osera empty if war spirits start falling.”

“Yes, sire,” the guard said, saluting.

Josef saluted back, and the carriage pulled away with a lurch, leaving the guard to deliver the king’s orders.

“I can’t see how she could have put us in a worse position,” the admiral said, rubbing a handkerchief across his ashy face as the carriage rattled out into the street. “The queen, the clingfire, and now the guard in shambles. She certainly knew where to hit us.”

“Adela always was good at her job,” Josef said quietly.

The admiral went paler still and kept any other opinions to himself.

The storm wall was crawling with sailors by the time they arrived. The man made way for the carriage, and the driver pulled them right up to the tower door. The admiral led Josef and his companions up the stairs, calling for his captains as they went. When they reached the top of the watchtower, Eli was pleased to see that the bodies from earlier had been removed. The stains on the wood floor remained, however. A grisly reminder.

“Right,” Eli said, surveying the room and the commanding view of the sea. “This will be our headquarters. Can we get a map of the coastline?”

The admiral jerked. “I don’t take orders from—”

“Eli’s with me,” Josef said firmly.

The admiral dropped his eyes. “Yes, majesty.”

Eli smiled as the admiral turned and started toward the steps. “And don’t forget my Spiritualist!”

The old admiral’s shoulders twitched, but he nodded as he disappeared down the stairs.

“I could get used to this,” Eli said, but Josef wasn’t listening. He was standing at the window, his face pale as he stared at the now clearly visible line of ships on the horizon.

“Surely the master of the Heart of War is not afraid of death,” Tesset said, stepping up beside him.

“Not mine,” Josef whispered as the admiral returned with soldiers bearing tables and maps, which they set up under Eli’s direction.

Thirty minutes later, news of the queen’s death had spread throughout the city. Surprisingly, this seemed to calm the panic spurred by Josef’s fight with Adela. Whatever his faults, Josef was an Eisenlowe, and with news of the princess’s betrayal and the Empress’s arrival spreading fast, having a murderer as a king suddenly didn’t seem so bad. Riders moved constantly back and forth between the bay and the palace, bringing Josef reports. The royal guard had recovered faster than the admiral had estimated. Adela’s betrayal had caught them hardest of all. Of the two hundred men once under the princess’s command, half were now dead by her hand. This had galvanized the hundred that remained, however, and they marched to the coast to put themselves under Josef’s command.

Men from the city were pouring down the mountain as well, answering the call of the bells to defend their homeland. They gathered on the storm wall, accepting their orders from the captains with stern-faced determination. Eli watched from the tower, impressed. He’d expected a riot, or at least more panic, but the people of Osera seemed to be handling the wave of change that had crashed into their kingdom by focusing on the one thing that was still the same—defending their home against the Empress.

The captains were dividing the crowd into crews when a carriage pulled onto the storm wall. A few minutes later, a guard poked his head into the watchtower and announced that Eli’s Spiritualist had arrived.

“Excellent,” Eli said. “Show him in.”

The guard opened the door for an elderly man whose elegant jacket was cut short at the sleeves to show off his four large, jeweled rings. He stepped into the tower and stopped, casting disdainful looks at the soldiers huddled around the maps, particularly Josef.

“Spiritualist,” Eli said, shaking his hand. “How nice to meet you.”

“It’s Tower Keeper,” the old man said with a sniff, snatching his hand back. “Who are you? I was told the king wanted me.”

“The king doesn’t deal with ‘wizard things,’ ” Eli said with a smile. “He leaves those to me.”

He glanced pointedly down at Eli’s empty fingers. “And again I say, who are you?”

“We have a bit of a crisis on our hands here,” Eli said, ignoring the question. “I need you to send a message to Zarin.”

“Why?” the Tower Keeper said suspiciously. “What’s wrong with the Relay?”

“I’ve heard that Spiritualists have their own way of communicating with Zarin,” Eli said. “Outside the Relay.”

“Yes,” the old man said testily. “They’re called letters.”

“I’m not talking about letters,” Eli said. “I’m talking about emergency messages.” He stopped and looked around pointedly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Look, chum, the Relay’s down and the Empress is about to fall on us like a hammer. We need to call for reinforcements immediately.”

“The Relay, down…” The Tower Keeper’s lined face turned ashy. “Powers, man, why didn’t you call the Council earlier?”

“If we could have, we would have,” Eli said. “If you Spiritualists have something up your sleeves, now’s the time to show it.”

“And I’m telling you we use letters!” the Tower Keeper cried. “An express courier switching horses can get a letter to Zarin in a day.”

Eli stared at him. “You’re kidding. The great and mighty Spirit Court uses couriers? That’s it? What about wind spirits?”

“Wind spirits?” the Tower Keeper said, aghast. “Do you know anything about wizardry? There aren’t five Spiritualists in the Court who’ve bound wind spirits. It’s not like I’m just keeping one in my pocket.”

Eli leaned back with a groan. “Please don’t tell me I had it good with Miranda.”

“Miranda?” The Tower Keeper jerked as though he’d stepped in something. “Lyonette? How do you know Banage’s favorite?”

“I can hardly seem to avoid her,” Eli said, ears perking up. “But why so bitter, Mr. Tower Keeper?”

“Bitter?” The man drew himself up to his full height. “Hardly, sir. Say what you like about our letters, but you’re the one out of touch if you haven’t heard that Banage’s turned traitor. He refused to help the Council fight the Empress and shut himself up in the Tower. I imagine Lyonette is in there with him, along with all the other traitors.”

Eli paused for a moment. “That is actually very interesting,” he said finally. “And not entirely surprising.” He sighed loudly. “Well, Mr. Tower Keeper, I’m afraid I’ve wasted your time. Thank you very much for coming. I’m sure someone will show you out.”

The Tower Keeper looked at Eli with utter confusion, but Eli just turned him around by the shoulder and pushed him toward the soldiers. “See he gets home safely!”

The soldiers saluted and began to escort the Tower Keeper down the stairs. The old man recovered his wits about three steps in and began protesting loudly that the prince had sent for him personally. That was all Eli heard before the door slammed shut.

He caught Josef’s eye and motioned him over.

Josef nodded to the admiral and stepped away from the map, joining Eli by the window. “Well?”

“No dice,” Eli said. “I keep forgetting what a gulf in power there can be between Spiritualists.”

“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.