door. When she finally made it to the hallway, Miranda hiked up the plain red apprentice robes she’d thrown over her traveling clothes for the exhibition and ran for the large spiral staircase that spanned the full height of the Court’s enormous white Tower.
The Tower was the tallest building in Zarin and the heart of the Spirit Court. There were smaller towers in nearly every kingdom of the Council of Thrones, each watched over by a Tower Keeper who made sure the local spirits were being treated with the respect and fairness they deserved, but the Zarin Tower was the home of the Rector and the heart of the Court. For the last five years, it had been Miranda’s home as well, first when she was a novice, and then, after she’d taken her oaths, as an apprentice Spiritualist. Even so, she’d never felt she belonged here as strongly as she did now, bounding up the stairs to answer the call of her Rector with her three spirits sleeping safely in their gems, their souls like warm bodies pressed up against her own.
The Rector’s office was at the very top of the Tower, and Miranda paused at the end of the stairs just long enough to catch her breath before she knocked on the Rector’s heavy wooden door.
“Come.”
Banage’s familiar deep voice was comforting, though he sounded a little annoyed. That wasn’t anything unusual, though, and Miranda didn’t think much of it until she opened the door.
Master Banage was sitting behind his desk as always, leaning back in the throne-like Rector’s chair with an annoyed frown on his face. In front of him was a large man in his early fifties who Miranda had never, ever expected to see in this room. His hair was as red as her own, though his was tempered with silver streaks, and his expensive suit was of the latest fashion, cut to make his chest and shoulders look broader than they actually were. He wasn’t a Spiritualist, which might explain why he thought he could stand there sneering at Etmon Banage like the Rector Spiritualis was some bumbling Council clerk, but then, Simon Lyonette could sneer at anyone.
He looked over his shoulder when the door stopped creaking, and Miranda shrank back on instinct as the furious sneer hit her. “Well,” he snapped. “It’s about time.”
Miranda almost apologized before she remembered who and where she was. She was the apprentice of the Rector Spiritualis, called here by her master. She didn’t have to bow to any man, not even this one. She closed the door behind her and marched across the room, keeping her eyes on Master Banage as she came to stand beside the man in front of the Rector’s desk. Only then did she turn and drop her head in the barest shadow of a nod.
“Hello, Father.”
“Don’t you ‘Hello, Father’ me!” Simon spat, looking her up and down with open disapproval. “Where are your manners, girl? We taught you better than that. Just whom do you think you are speaking to?”
Miranda had a pretty good answer to that, but fortunately Master Banage cut her off before she could make things worse.
“Thank you for your concern, Lord Lyonette,” he said. “But Miranda is a pledged Spiritualist now, and as such she is not required to bow to a lord of Zarin, or to any other nobility, in this Tower.”
“You can’t tell her she shouldn’t honor her father, Banage!” Simon said. When Master Banage arched a dark eyebrow at that, Simon dismissed him with a turn of his head. “Never mind. I’m not here to play your games. Now that Miranda is back, we’ll be going.”
“ We? ” Miranda cried, outraged. “ You can go whenever you like, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Miranda.” Banage’s voice was low, but the warning was clear, and Miranda snapped her mouth shut. Banage watched her a moment longer, and then leaned forward. “Lord Lyonette wrote me last week,” he said calmly. “He’s here to take you home. It seems your family no longer wishes for you to be in the Court’s care.”
“He said you
The Tower was the tallest building in Zarin and the heart of the Spirit Court. There were smaller towers in nearly every kingdom of the Council of Thrones, each watched over by a Tower Keeper who made sure the local spirits were being treated with the respect and fairness they deserved, but the Zarin Tower was the home of the Rector and the heart of the Court. For the last five years, it had been Miranda’s home as well, first when she was a novice, and then, after she’d taken her oaths, as an apprentice Spiritualist. Even so, she’d never felt she belonged here as strongly as she did now, bounding up the stairs to answer the call of her Rector with her three spirits sleeping safely in their gems, their souls like warm bodies pressed up against her own.
The Rector’s office was at the very top of the Tower, and Miranda paused at the end of the stairs just long enough to catch her breath before she knocked on the Rector’s heavy wooden door.
“Come.”
Banage’s familiar deep voice was comforting, though he sounded a little annoyed. That wasn’t anything unusual, though, and Miranda didn’t think much of it until she opened the door.
Master Banage was sitting behind his desk as always, leaning back in the throne-like Rector’s chair with an annoyed frown on his face. In front of him was a large man in his early fifties who Miranda had never, ever expected to see in this room. His hair was as red as her own, though his was tempered with silver streaks, and his expensive suit was of the latest fashion, cut to make his chest and shoulders look broader than they actually were. He wasn’t a Spiritualist, which might explain why he thought he could stand there sneering at Etmon Banage like the Rector Spiritualis was some bumbling Council clerk, but then, Simon Lyonette could sneer at anyone.
He looked over his shoulder when the door stopped creaking, and Miranda shrank back on instinct as the furious sneer hit her. “Well,” he snapped. “It’s about time.”
Miranda almost apologized before she remembered who and where she was. She was the apprentice of the Rector Spiritualis, called here by her master. She didn’t have to bow to any man, not even this one. She closed the door behind her and marched across the room, keeping her eyes on Master Banage as she came to stand beside the man in front of the Rector’s desk. Only then did she turn and drop her head in the barest shadow of a nod.
“Hello, Father.”
“Don’t you ‘Hello, Father’ me!” Simon spat, looking her up and down with open disapproval. “Where are your manners, girl? We taught you better than that. Just whom do you think you are speaking to?”
Miranda had a pretty good answer to that, but fortunately Master Banage cut her off before she could make things worse.
“Thank you for your concern, Lord Lyonette,” he said. “But Miranda is a pledged Spiritualist now, and as such she is not required to bow to a lord of Zarin, or to any other nobility, in this Tower.”
“You can’t tell her she shouldn’t honor her father, Banage!” Simon said. When Master Banage arched a dark eyebrow at that, Simon dismissed him with a turn of his head. “Never mind. I’m not here to play your games. Now that Miranda is back, we’ll be going.”
“ We? ” Miranda cried, outraged. “ You can go whenever you like, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Miranda.” Banage’s voice was low, but the warning was clear, and Miranda snapped her mouth shut. Banage watched her a moment longer, and then leaned forward. “Lord Lyonette wrote me last week,” he said calmly. “He’s here to take you home. It seems your family no longer wishes for you to be in the Court’s care.”
“He said you
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