gained the spirit Mellinor under false pretenses, the resolution seems simple enough. We will question the spirit to see if it has been mistreated.” He looked down. “Miranda, if you would.”
Miranda nodded and closed her eyes, reaching down into the deep well of her spirit where Mellinor slept. He woke as soon as she brushed him, and a strange sensation rushed through her body, as though she were pouring out of her skin. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but neither was it pleasant, and it went on for what felt like a very long time.
When the sensation finally faded, the sound of water filled her ears. She opened her eyes and saw Mellinor hovering beside her. The Great Spirit of the inland sea had changed since she’d offered her soul as his shore. He still appeared as a great orb of water, crystal clear and glowing with his own shifting blue light, but he wassmaller now, barely as tall as she was. She’d known he had to shed some of his size to live inside her, but actually seeing the once enormous globe cut down to something more manageable was a shock. Still, Mellinor did not seem troubled at all by his new stature. He hovered, turning to watch the wizards in the stands as they gawked openly. The more they gawked, the brighter the light in the water became, and Miranda got the distinct feeling that, diminished as he was, Mellinor was still the largest spirit most of them had ever encountered firsthand, and the ball of water knew it.
Banage leaned forward on the bench. “You are Mellinor,” he said, almost hesitantly, “Great Spirit of the inland sea?”
“I was.” Mellinor’s voice was like a crashing wave. “But my sea is long gone to grass and trees, so now I am Mellinor, beholden to Miranda.”
Hern leaped at this. “Beholden? You mean oath bound?”
Mellinor gave him what passed for a dirty look among water spirits. “Formalities are pointless. I accepted her offer of sanctuary and sustenance in exchange for service on the understanding that I am free to leave whenever I wish, which I currently do not.”
“So,” Hern said, ignoring Mellinor’s distaste, “you were given the choice of servitude or… what?”
He left the question hanging, and Mellinor’s water swirled. “I see where this is going, human,” the water spirit rumbled. “I am not bound to answer to you.”
“But your mistress is,” Hern said. “Answer the question, service or what?”
Miranda felt Mellinor give her a questioning prod.She nodded and, with a watery sigh, the Great Spirit answered. “Return to the sea. When I was free from the Enslaver, I attempted to reclaim my land. Miranda Lyonette and Eli Monpress stopped me, for it would mean the death of millions of spirits, as well as thousands of your kind. Monpress meant to return me to the sea, and defeated, I would have gone. It was Miranda who stopped him. Had she not offered the Spiritualist’s pledge to me, I would be lost right now, my soul pounded to nothingness beneath the waves. Servitude to a good master is a small price to pay for escaping that end.”
Miranda beamed at the glowing water, but Hern’s smug smile only grew wider.
“So,” he said, “just to make sure I have this right. You were given the choice between death at Monpress’s hands or service to Spiritualist Lyonette?”
“I don’t like how you say it,” Mellinor rumbled. “But if you insist on reducing a complex situation to its most base components, then yes, that is technically correct.”
Hern turned to look out over the rows of Spiritualists, spreading his arms to encompass them all. “Though it scarcely needs to be spoken,” he said in a ringing voice, “I would like to remind everyone present of the first rule of servant spirits, as it is written in the founding codex of our order: ‘Servitude of a spirit is by the spirit’s choice alone.’
Choice
, my friends, a spirit’s informed, free choice is the cornerstone of all the magics of the Spirit Court. What happened that
Miranda nodded and closed her eyes, reaching down into the deep well of her spirit where Mellinor slept. He woke as soon as she brushed him, and a strange sensation rushed through her body, as though she were pouring out of her skin. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but neither was it pleasant, and it went on for what felt like a very long time.
When the sensation finally faded, the sound of water filled her ears. She opened her eyes and saw Mellinor hovering beside her. The Great Spirit of the inland sea had changed since she’d offered her soul as his shore. He still appeared as a great orb of water, crystal clear and glowing with his own shifting blue light, but he wassmaller now, barely as tall as she was. She’d known he had to shed some of his size to live inside her, but actually seeing the once enormous globe cut down to something more manageable was a shock. Still, Mellinor did not seem troubled at all by his new stature. He hovered, turning to watch the wizards in the stands as they gawked openly. The more they gawked, the brighter the light in the water became, and Miranda got the distinct feeling that, diminished as he was, Mellinor was still the largest spirit most of them had ever encountered firsthand, and the ball of water knew it.
Banage leaned forward on the bench. “You are Mellinor,” he said, almost hesitantly, “Great Spirit of the inland sea?”
“I was.” Mellinor’s voice was like a crashing wave. “But my sea is long gone to grass and trees, so now I am Mellinor, beholden to Miranda.”
Hern leaped at this. “Beholden? You mean oath bound?”
Mellinor gave him what passed for a dirty look among water spirits. “Formalities are pointless. I accepted her offer of sanctuary and sustenance in exchange for service on the understanding that I am free to leave whenever I wish, which I currently do not.”
“So,” Hern said, ignoring Mellinor’s distaste, “you were given the choice of servitude or… what?”
He left the question hanging, and Mellinor’s water swirled. “I see where this is going, human,” the water spirit rumbled. “I am not bound to answer to you.”
“But your mistress is,” Hern said. “Answer the question, service or what?”
Miranda felt Mellinor give her a questioning prod.She nodded and, with a watery sigh, the Great Spirit answered. “Return to the sea. When I was free from the Enslaver, I attempted to reclaim my land. Miranda Lyonette and Eli Monpress stopped me, for it would mean the death of millions of spirits, as well as thousands of your kind. Monpress meant to return me to the sea, and defeated, I would have gone. It was Miranda who stopped him. Had she not offered the Spiritualist’s pledge to me, I would be lost right now, my soul pounded to nothingness beneath the waves. Servitude to a good master is a small price to pay for escaping that end.”
Miranda beamed at the glowing water, but Hern’s smug smile only grew wider.
“So,” he said, “just to make sure I have this right. You were given the choice between death at Monpress’s hands or service to Spiritualist Lyonette?”
“I don’t like how you say it,” Mellinor rumbled. “But if you insist on reducing a complex situation to its most base components, then yes, that is technically correct.”
Hern turned to look out over the rows of Spiritualists, spreading his arms to encompass them all. “Though it scarcely needs to be spoken,” he said in a ringing voice, “I would like to remind everyone present of the first rule of servant spirits, as it is written in the founding codex of our order: ‘Servitude of a spirit is by the spirit’s choice alone.’
Choice
, my friends, a spirit’s informed, free choice is the cornerstone of all the magics of the Spirit Court. What happened that
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