Rachel Aaron - The Spirit War

The men looked at each other, and then at Josef.

“I am,” Josef said with a sigh.

“Don’t be absurd,” Miranda scoffed. “I don’t know what kind of scam you people are running, but we don’t have time for your games. Where’s the queen?”

“In the palace,” Josef said coldly. “Won’t do you any good, though. Queen Theresa is dead. I’m king of Osera now.”

Miranda’s face went very pale. “If you think for one moment I’m going to buy that load of—”

“He’s speaking the truth, ma’am,” one of the soldiers interrupted, standing a little straighter.

Miranda blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding!” she roared. “Do you know who this man is? He’s a wanted criminal! A thief! A bounty hunter, pride fighter, and right-hand man of the most notorious—”

“That’ll be enough,” Josef said, putting enough edge in his voice to ensure that it really was enough. Miranda snapped her mouth closed, but her scowl only grew deeper.

“How are you king?” she said at last.

“Because my mother was queen,” Josef answered, turning around and walking toward the tower. “And as I said, she’s dead. Now come on. If our time’s limited, I don’t want to waste it on things that don’t matter.”

Miranda and Banage exchanged a tight-lipped look and followed.

Down in the bay, hidden by the fog, the last of the Empress’s soldiers climbed through the wall of trees and dove into the sea, swimming through the waves and toward the line of palace ships waiting on the other side.

Banage stopped them at the foot of the tower to hear reports from the other Spiritualists, but Miranda was too enraged to listen. Josef Liechten? A king? Of Osera? It was absolutely impossible. This had to be one of Eli’s scams. How he could trick an entire kingdom, queen included, Miranda had no idea, but she intended to find out. That thief could not be allowed to meddle with something this big.

By the time they entered the tower, Miranda had worked herself into a cold fury. For all his talk about not wasting time, Josef set a maddeningly slow pace. They climbed the winding tower steps carefully, stepping over the wounded as they went. The gristly scene only sharpened her rage. She wasn’t sure how, but she was positive Eli was somehow to blame for all this. And while she couldn’t actually pin the Empress’s sudden appearance on him, she was absolutely sure Osera would have been in a better position to defend itself if he hadn’t been here running whatever con he was running.

The stairs finally ended at a large watch room ringed with windows. There were wounded here too, but the half of the room overlooking the bay was clear, though the view of the bay itself was completely obscured by Allinu’s mist and Banage’s fog spirit. She could feel her mist straining to keep the island covered against the light of the setting sun and the stiff wind from the sea, and Miranda sent a small pulse of power down to Allinu’s ring. The strain eased a bit, and she turned her full attention back to the task at hand.

A large table was set up under one of the bay-facing windows. Beside it, an older man in an officer’s coat was waiting with a map, which he handed to Josef. Josef took it and leaned over the table, seemingly forgetting about them entirely. The older man looked stricken for a moment by Josef’s indifference and then stepped forward, bowing before Banage.

“Rector Spiritualis,” he said. “On behalf of all Osera, please let me thank you. You arrived in the nick of time.”

Banage nodded. “It was our duty.” He paused.

“Admiral Hawthorne,” the man supplied in a hurried voice. “Commander of her majesty’s navy. His majesty’s now, of course,” he corrected himself. “Though there’s not much left of it.”

“Wouldn’t be any left if these two hadn’t shown up,” Josef said, standing. He looked Miranda in the eye, then Banage. “Thank you,” he said, his voice surprisingly sincere. “I really thought that was the end. Thank you for the fog as well. Maybe it’ll buy us enough time for the Council reinforcements to arrive.”

“Don’t count on it,” Banage said. “Product of nepotism he may be, but Myron Whitefall’s an experienced general. His objective is the preservation of the Council, not Osera. He won’t waste time sailing troops out here when he can use your fall to buy the time he needs to fortify the continent.”

Josef’s face grew very dangerous. “If that’s how it is, then why are you here?”

“Because we are not the Council,” Banage said. “Much as some would like to claim otherwise, the Spirit Court is an independent body with its own priorities, and right now those include stopping the Empress’s advance. If you are indeed king of Osera, then we are prepared to offer you our full cooperation toward that end.”

Josef nodded. “What have you brought?”

Banage began to rattle off the Court forces—the number of Spiritualists, the capabilities of the spirits at their command, so on and so forth. Miranda stopped listening almost immediately and began scanning the room. There were many prone shapes lying in the dark around them. Miranda examined each of their faces, looking for the boyish, infuriating one. If Josef was here, Eli couldn’t be far away. He was probably watching right now…

Even as the thought crossed her mind, she spotted a familiar shape. At the far edge of the room, a small bundle lay pressed against the wall. Miranda had spotted it only by chance, and even now, when she was turned to look straight at it, the bundle seemed to fade into the shadows. But nothing could hide the white, feminine, skeletally thin hand peeking through the folds. Miranda sucked in a breath. She’d know that hand anywhere. It was the same hand that had dug into Gin’s back in Mellinor, and considering Josef was standing a few feet away, there was no doubt in her mind. It was Nico, and if she was there—Miranda’s eyes jumped to the lanky soldier sitting slumped beside the demonseed, his unruly black hair falling down to hide his face.

“Eli Monpress!” she shouted, interrupting Master Banage midsentence. “Come out now. You’re not fooling anyone.”

Everyone turned in surprise to see what she was pointing at. Across the room, the slumped man heaved a long sigh and looked up.

“Nothing gets by you, does it?” Eli said.

Miranda ignored him, turning to the admiral. “That man is the thief Eli Monpress,” she said. “He must be arrested at once.”

The admiral stared at her, his face strained and white as paper. “Lady Spiritualist,” he said at last. “I fear you are mistaken. That is Lord Eliton Banage, best friend and adviser to King Josef Liechten of Osera.”

For several seconds, Miranda was too shocked to speak.

“Banage?” she said at last. “Eliton Banage?” She turned back to Eli, who was on his feet by this point, neatly picking his way toward them through the lines of the wounded. “Of all the…” She almost couldn’t find the words. “Slanderous, outrageous, presumptuous—” The list dissolved into enraged sputters. “How dare you try and hide behind the name of the most respected wizard on the continent! I don’t care if we’re at war or if the Empress is coming up the stairs as we speak, I’m taking this criminal in right now. Master Banage!” She turned to face her Rector. “I’ll handle this. He won’t…”

Her voice trailed off when she saw Master Banage’s face. He was standing perfectly still, his eyes open so wide she could see the whites all the way around. He was staring at Eli like another man might stare at a corpse suddenly come to life.

“There is no slander,” Banage said, his voice thin and almost trembling. “It’s been a long time, Eliton.”