The Spirit War (10 page)

The swamp fell suddenly silent, empty except for the droning of distant insects. The girl crouched in the mud, her dark eyes bright
in the flickering light of the toppled lanterns until the mud took those, too, and everything fell dark. Sensing its chance, the mud began to buck against her Enslavement. She let it go, staring dumbstruck at the bloody knife in her hand. What had she done? Killing the captain had been bad enough, but now she’d killed the foremen as well. They would slaughter the camp for this. They would find her and kill her, kill her brothers, kill her people, all to make an example for the other camps. They would all die and it would be her fault.

Bleak despair filled her mind, drowning out even her panic, and she began to weep. The sobs shook her until her bones ached, but the more she cried, the worse she felt. There was no escape, no hope. Nothing.

Finally, her crying subsided, and she realized something was different. The swamp was silent. Not just night silence, true silence. There was no rustle of water, no insects chirping. Even the gentle wind had stopped. Her body went tense, and the girl edged her head up, peeking cautiously through her tangled hair. The dark swamp was bright as noon, but that was impossible. Dawn was still hours away, and in any case, this was no golden daylight. The light was white, stark, and cold as fresh snow. She would have called it moonlight, but no moon had ever shone this bright. She raised her head to stare, and that was when she caught sight of a woman’s white foot resting delicately on the surface of the swamp.

The girl jumped and scrambled back. The woman stood less than a foot away. She was naked, her skin flawless and alabaster white. White hair fell in a cascade across her white shoulders, and her white eyes were sparkling as she looked down at the muddy girl at her feet.

Hello
—the woman’s voice was like cold silk—
Nara
.

“How do you know my name?”

The question was out before the girl could stop it. Nara was her
tribe name. Ever since the invaders took them to the camps, she’d shared it with no one. She should be furious that this woman, this obvious outsider, knew it, but she could not be angry with her. The woman was simply too beautiful.

The White Lady knelt, and Nara couldn’t help noticing that the mud did not smudge her perfect skin. The woman extended her hand, cupping Nara’s dirty cheek in a burning grip.

I know everything about you
, the woman said.
I am your Shepherdess. I have been watching you since you were born. You are a brave girl, Nara. Brave and beautiful.
The white fingers stroked her cheek, leaving burning trails that made Nara tremble.
So beautiful. More beautiful than anything else I’ve created.

“Created?” Nara whispered, the word little more than a feathered breath.

Well
, the Lady spoke and smirked, as though this were some long-standing joke,
not fully. I am not the Creator. But I shaped you, you and all humans, in my image.
Her beautiful face fell.
For all that, you always were ugly, ridiculous creatures, fitting for the ugly job I made you to do. Even so, every now and then I catch a glimmer of something more.
The fingers slid down to brush Nara’s lips.
Like you. You are beautiful, Nara. From the moment I saw you, I knew I had to have you. Knew that you and you alone of all the ugly, blind humans were worthy of being my star.

Nara’s eyes widened as the White Lady leaned down and pressed a burning kiss to her lips. It was the briefest touch, but the proximity alone was enough to send her reeling. Still, Nara had never been quick to trust, and, though it went against every instinct she had, she pulled away, putting space between her and the woman who called herself Shepherdess.

“Your star?” she said with as much strength as she could muster. “And what is that?”

The White Lady looked at her with a smirk.
My servant.

Nara scowled. “I’m done being a servant.”

I am not like your human masters.
The Lady laughed.
Those deaf sacks of meat. I am Benehime, a Power of creation. I am the Shepherdess, all spirits serve me. But my stars are different. They are raised above all others, and answer only to me. As my star, there will be no want you can think of that I cannot provide. No wish I cannot grant.

“Any wish?” Nara said, her throat dry.

Anything at all
, the Shepherdess answered, spreading her arms.
All you have to do is worship me. Fear me. Obey me. Love me more than any other. Become my star, beautiful girl, and whatever you desire will be yours.

She must have seen the hunger in Nara’s eyes, for the White Lady smiled.
You have a wish, don’t you? Speak it.

Nara had never told her wish to anyone, but it came tumbling from her lips before she could think of denying the White Lady.

“I’ve been a slave for ten years,” she whispered. “I and my people and all the peoples I met when I was a child, we all were made slaves when the invaders came because we could not fight back. They crushed the spirits of the forest and forced the stone to vomit its riches into the mines. The Enslavers turned our lakes into swamps and our mountains into open pits that we were forced to work. But that’s how the world is. The strong step on the weak, and the weak can do nothing but weep. I want to change that. You said you could give me anything I wish—that’s it. I want to stop the cycle of war and Enslavement. Can you give me that?”

The White Lady’s face broke into a brilliant smile.
So noble
, she said, running her white fingers through Nara’s dark, tangled hair.
So determined. I like you even better now, little darling. You might even become my favorite if you keep it up.

“So you can grant my wish?” Nara said.

The Shepherdess leaned back a bit, her lovely white mouth pursed as she made a show of thinking about it.

I won’t just give it to you
, she said at last.
That would be no fun. But I will give you the power to take it for yourself.
She leaned in until her lips
were a breath away from Nara’s own.
I will give you power unlike anything you have ever seen. You will bear my mark, speak in my name. I will give you dominion over all spirits great and small and the life span to see your wish come true.

Nara’s stomach clenched. She still wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not, but the Shepherdess was there in front of her, white and cold and more beautiful than anything her mind could make up. And in that realization, she knew her answer.

“If you give me the power to make the world what it should be,” she said, trembling at the beautiful woman’s closeness, “I will love you above all others until the day I die.”

Though the shameful truth was, Nara already did. The woman was so beautiful, so powerful, Nara was already lost. But the Lady expected a wish, and Nara would give it to her. She would give her anything, Nara realized with a sinking feeling, and from the look on the Lady’s face, the Shepherdess knew it.

The White Lady smiled and leaned in to kiss Nara gently on the lips. It was a bare brush, but the connection that opened between them nearly made Nara faint. Power burned through her, pouring into the well of her soul until she feared she would burst. Light seared her body from the inside out, burning her away until Nara was sure that she had died and her spirit simply hadn’t realized it yet. And then it was over. The Shepherdess pulled away, catching Nara’s falling body in her arms.

It is done
, she whispered, cuddling the girl to her chest like a kitten.
You bear my mark forever, now. You are mine, mine alone.

“Yours alone,” Nara said, looking up into the Lady’s white eyes. Eyes she now knew as well as her own. The white fire was still burning through her as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I will love you forever,” she swore, leaning into the Lady’s embrace. “Forever and ever, beautiful, beloved Benehime.”

The Shepherdess laughed in delight as Nara said her name. She
stood, taking the girl up with her. As they rose, the dirt fell reverently away, leaving Nara clean and perfect in the Shepherdess’s glory. A white slit opened in the air in front of them, and Benehime carried her through, away from the swamp, away from the mud and the pain of slavery, into a perfect, white world.

When the sun rose the next morning on the slave camp, an unknown woman in golden armor carrying a gleaming sword strode into the master’s tent and began killing the officers. She killed them quickly and efficiently, leaving only one alive to bring the word of what had happened to the other camps. After she’d sent him running, the woman turned to the buildings that held the cowering slaves. The stones barring the doors rolled away at the barest touch of her will, desperate to do what she ordered, for the mark of the Shepherdess was plain on her soul. The people cried in fear as the doors opened, but the woman held up her hand for silence. When the silence came, she told them they were free. Some of the people fainted, some ran in terror, but others raised their arms in praise, swearing their lives to the woman who’d won their freedom.

This was the Immortal Empress’s first conquest.

Eight hundred years later, the Immortal Empress treasured this memory. By the time she’d conquered her first kingdom, Benehime had named her favorite, the soul beloved by the Shepherdess above all others. Many joys had followed in the centuries after, but that first night was still dearest in Nara’s heart. Even now, the smell of mud brought a dreamy smile to her face.

“Empress?”

Nara opened her eyes and turned to face her commander. The old man winced, but he did not shrink back. He had been her general for many years before she’d vanished, and he knew her well. Now, however, he looked as though he had something to say, and so, regretfully, she let the memory go and returned to the bitter present.

“Report.”

“Empress,” the man said again, bowing. “Your return could not have come at a better time. The storm has been blowing for weeks now without weakening. Tidal waves have devastated your southern coast. Those who survived the initial flood escaped to higher ground, but they are now stranded and running low on food. I ordered your army to aid in the evacuation, but the storm is too dangerous. Now that you are with us again, however, I am sure—”

He fell silent as the Empress stepped up to the edge of the balcony. They were standing on the observation tower of her southern-most fortress, the one she’d left to remind the desert tribes who had conquered them. That was two hundred years ago now, but the fort was still one of her largest. From its tower, she could see clear across the sandy desert to the coast, miles away, but even if she’d been on the ground, she couldn’t have missed the storm. It loomed off the edge of her continent’s southern coast, a wall of black clouds and forked lightning stretching as far as she could see in any direction. Great winds blew in the smell of rain and sodden mud, and though the smell triggered her memories again, Nara did not smile. The storm chewed at the edge of her lands, destroying everything in its path beneath a rain of lightning and the endless booming thunder she knew too well.

The Empress shook her head. “I cannot banish this storm.”

The general’s eyes widened. “But surely,” he began. “You are queen of everything. The spirits would not dare—”

“You question me?” the Empress said coldly.

The general froze. “No, Empress,” he said, bowing so low that his helmet slipped off. “Forgive me, Empress. Your voice is the only law.”

She nodded and held out her hand, letting the storm-tossed winds sweep over her fingers. When she felt a particularly strong one, she closed her fist. The wind squealed at first but grew still when it realized what will had caught it.

“Hail, Empress,” it whispered.

Nara glanced pointedly at the enormous storm. “What is
he
doing here?”

“The Lord of Storm is in disgrace,” the wind said, wiggling in her hand.

“I can see that,” the Empress snapped. “He’s been in disgrace for weeks, apparently, and wrecking my shore in the process. What did he do that Benehime would impose such a harsh punishment?”

The wind jerked. Lesser spirits were so obedient that even the mention of the Lady’s name was enough to send them into a fit of reverential terror.

“He raised his blade against the favorite,” it whispered at last. “The Shepherdess’s wrath was swift.”

White-hot fury roared through Nara’s mind and, for a moment, she forgot everything. Forgot the storm, the general standing beside her, even the wind in her hand. Time seemed to flow backward, carrying her back to that hated day when everything in her life had fallen apart. The day the Shepherdess brought that boy into her white world.

She could see him clearly in her mind even now, a skinny, dark-haired thing sitting smugly on Benehime’s beautiful lap as the Lady doted on him. The memory made Nara tremble with rage. That spoiled brat had stolen the Shepherdess’s love from her, and with it everything Nara cared for. All the things that had given her pride—her victories, her legions, her unified country, the fairness and efficiency of the government she had built, the peace she had brought to her people, her loyal spirits, even her great wish of a fair and peaceful world—none of it meant
anything
when Benehime, her beautiful, beloved Shepherdess, was ignoring her in favor of that hateful, conniving, selfish child.

Nara bared her teeth at the enormous waves washing over the ruins of her sea towns. How could the Shepherdess love that brat
enough to punish the Lord of Storms this severely just for raising his blade? He’d raised his sword to Nara several times, and the Lady had never done anything like this. Was she finally sick of his disobedience? Or was it because she loved the boy more than—

The Empress stopped that line of thought dead. She could not believe it. The Lady’s love was for Nara alone. The boy was nothing more than an infatuation. He’d beguiled the Shepherdess. What else would explain Benehime’s abandoning her Empress after eight centuries of Nara’s ceaseless devotion? Her undying love? Nara clenched her fists. Den had been right. For eleven years she’d lived in her misery, waiting for the Shepherdess to remember who truly loved her, and all she had to show for it was the suffering of her own lands. She was through hiding, through crying. If the Lady loved her as an Empress, then Empress she would be. She would rebuild her army as never before. An army fit to conquer the rest of the world. And when all the lands of creation were united under her good rule, her wish would be fulfilled. She alone would rule a world without war, without unfairness, a world that was guided by her wisdom alone. And then Nara would take this perfect world and throw it at the Lady’s feet. There, she would say, who is your favorite now?