They came reluctantly, defiantly. Their eyes bore into him like needles.
Jack was alarmed by their reaction to him. Some of them hissed through their sharp teeth, while others cowered as if awaiting a death blow.
His ballad came to its end, and the absence of his voice and music sharpened the terror of the moment. Adaira continued to stand before an audience of manifested spirits, and Jack was stunned by the sight of them. To know that they had rushed alongside him as he walked the east. That he had felt their fingers in his hair, felt them kiss his mouth and steal words from his lips, carrying his voice in their hands.
And his music had just summoned them. His voice and song now held them captive, beholden to him.
He studied the horde. Some of the spirits looked amused, others shocked. Some were afraid, and some were angry.
Just as Adaira was taking a step forward to beseech the spirits, their gathering parted to make way for one of their own to come forward. Jack saw the threads of gold in the air; he felt the rock tremble beneath him. He watched as the south, the east, and the west drew in their wings, watched the spirits quiver and bow to the one who was coming to meet Adaira.
He was taller, greater than the others. His skin was pale, as if he had forged himself from the clouds, his wings were the shade of blood, veined with silver, and his hair was long, the color of the moon. His face was beautiful, terrifying to look upon, and his eyes smoldered. A lance was in his hand; its arrowhead flickered with tendrils of lightning. A chain of stars crowned him, and the longer he stood, held by Jack’s music, the stormier the sky churned and the deeper the mountain quaked.
It was Bane, the king of the northern wind. A name that Jack had only heard whispered in children’s stories, in old legends that flowed with fear and reverence. Bane brought storms, death, famine. He was a wind one wanted to evade. And yet Jack knew the answers they sought were held in his hands; he had been the one to seal the mouths of the other spirits, to keep the truth concealed from them.
Bane motioned for Adaira to approach him, and Jack’s heart blazed with fear.
“Come, mortal woman. You have been clever, tricking this bard into summoning me. Come and speak to me, for I have long awaited this moment.”
Adaira stopped a few steps away from him. Jack noticed how close she was to the edge. If she fell, would the wind catch her? Or would it watch her break on the rocks far below?
Jack slowly lowered his harp, wrapping his fingers around the frame.
“My name is Adaira Tamerlaine,” she said. “I am the Heiress of the East.”
“I know who you are,” Bane replied, his voice deep and cold as a valley loch. “Do not waste your words, Adaira. The bard’s music will tether me only so long.”
Adaira began to speak of the missing girls. As the words spilled out of her, Jack noticed the eastern and southern winds began to stir. They glanced at each other with amused faces. The western wind remained guarded, but their sorrow was nearly tangible as they watched her speak.
Quietly, Jack rose to his feet. He was struck by the thought that this was nothing more than a game driven by bored spirits, and he and Adaira were pawns who had just played into Bane’s elaborate scheme.
“Are the Breccans to blame for the disappearances?” Adaira asked. She stood tall and proud, but her voice was brittle. “Have they been stealing the lasses?”
Bane smiled. “A bold question, but one that I will honor.” He paused, as if he wanted Adaira to further grovel. When she didn’t, his eyes narrowed as he said, “Yes, the Breccans are the ones who have been stealing the lasses.”
It was the confirmation they needed. Jack didn’t know how to feel. His emotions burned through him like fire and ice. Relief and dread, excitement and fear.
“Then I must ask you for the location of the lasses,” Adaira said calmly. “You roam the east and the west. You wander the south and the north, and you see beyond that which I see. You watched as the Breccans stole the girls from my lands. Where can I find them?”
“What would you do if I told you where the lasses are, Adaira?” Bane asked. “Would you wage war? Would you seek retaliation?”
“I think you already know my plans.”
The northern wind smiled at her. His teeth gleamed like a scythe. “Why do you care for these three lasses? They are not your flesh and blood.”
“They are under my protection all the same,” Adaira replied.
“And what if they would prefer to live in the west? What if they are happier with the Breccans?”
Adaira was astounded. Jack sensed that she didn’t know how to reply, and her temper flared. “They will be happiest with their families at home, where they belong. And so I will ask you again, majesty. Where are the Breccans hiding the Tamerlaine lasses?”