Doppelganger

10 Witches [Mirage]

The moonlight was strong enough to show the road, so the two Hunters rode away from Vilardi without stopping through what remained of the night. An hour or so before dawn, as the sky began to lighten, Eclipse left the road and found a tangle of brush where a tree had recently fallen. He set about constructing their camp while Mirage eased herself out of the saddle and fought down pain and nausea.

She woke at midmorning and felt better. Her head would take a while to recover, but the pain in her knee and ribs, while still there, was at a level she could cope with.

Coping with her memories was harder.

Eclipse was not inclined to blame her; in fact, he was generous with praise for her quick thinking and quicker feet, catching up to the other Hunter at all. The blow to the head she’d taken in the brawl, in his opinion, excused her failure to win the right.

Mirage didn’t agree.

“Tell me about the Hunter,” he said, when it became obvious she wasn’t going to leave off accusing herself any time soon. “You said he was a Wolfstar. What did he look like?”

Mirage closed her eyes to concentrate, searching for details her mind had subconsciously recorded during the fight. “Tall—a bit taller than you, and slightly broader in the shoulders. Hazel eyes, close-set, with long lashes. Most of his height is in his legs, which makes him a fast runner, even though his reflexes aren’t anything special. He favored kick-fighting a lot; makes sense, given his build.”

“But it’s unusual for a Wolfstar. Anything else?”

There was something… ah. “You remember what I said about the way we fell? We both fell onto our right sides, and I know my arm wasn’t happy about it. Yet he still punched more from the right than the left. Which suggests his ambidexterity leaves something to be desired.”

“Useful to know, though I’m surprised he made it through training with a flaw like that.” Eclipse chewed on his lower lip, then shook his head. “No one’s coming to mind. We can send a message back to Silverfire, once we get to an agent. They may be able to identify this guy there.”

“Let’s not waste time, then,” Mirage said, and stood to begin saddling Mist.

Eclipse opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Mirage was grateful for his silence. She wasn’t in great shape, but right now they needed speed more than anything else. The sooner they got to an agent, the sooner they’d know who the Wolfstar was.

And, since I can’t believe that it’s pure coincidence Avalanche was killed, chances are we’ll have found Tari-nakana’s assassin as well.

“So here’s a thought,” Mirage said when they were two days away from Ravelle. “I’m not so sure that brawl was an accident.”

Eclipse gave her a startled look, which changed to thoughtfulness. “Delay?”

“The way that guard showed up—it looked purposeful. He was looking for us, I’m sure of it. And while he might have just been spoiling for a fight, it seems too convenient.”

“Because if we had gotten to Avalanche’s room just a minute or two later, we’d never have seen the Wolfstar.”

“And we might well have gotten pinned with the murder. At the very least we would have been under suspicion, and detained, and there would have gone any chance of catching up to the killer. It almost worked anyway.”

Eclipse pulled Sparker to a halt and crossed his arms over the saddlebow. “All right. So what are we doing?”

Mirage blinked. “Explain?”

“The guard is behind us, back in Vilardi. He may know something worthwhile. We left to avoid getting arrested, but is there anything worthwhile in this direction? We need to decide where we’re going and what we’re doing before we ride any farther.”

He had a good point. Mirage leaned her head back and considered it. And, out of the corners of her mind, a thought emerged. “We keep going this way. We’re going to Miest.”

“To Silverfire. Why?”

“Because I’m going to talk to Jaguar. I can’t accept it as coincidence anymore that he chose us for this job, or explain it away with a simple desire to see us get an important commission. Tari-nakana was tracking me. I don’t know if he knew that, but I’m sure he had a reason for choosing me. And I want to know what it was.”

“Not good enough,” Eclipse said, and his voice hardened to match her own. “Miest is a damn long ride from here. We can’t waste all that time on the road without a better reason than that.”

“Here’s two more for you, then. Tari-nakana’s successor, Kekkai-nakana, is probably in Starfall. If we’re going to arrange any kind of face-to-face meeting with her, it’ll happen there, or at the very least somewhere west of here. And second, Jaguar is the one who got the commission to begin with, who talked with the Void witch. He might have picked up some extra details, from what she said or how she said it, that could be useful. Remember that there’s already something strange about this. A Fire witch was assassinated, but a Void witch delivered the commission, and it looks like one from the Earth Ray sealed it. I don’t think inter-Ray scheming like that is common.”

He looked at her steadily, and Mirage held his gaze without blinking. This was part of why Hunters often worked alone; in a situation like this, with no one possessing clear-cut authority, conflicts of will could cause real trouble. I’m not going to back down. Will he?

“Let’s go,” Eclipse said, and touched his heels to Sparker’s sides.

Mirage stared at his back, then belatedly cued Mist forward. They rode in silence for a moment before she cast a sidelong look at him. “That was easier than I expected.”

Eclipse shrugged without looking at her. “The first reason didn’t outweigh the benefit of questioning the guard, but all three together did.”

“Not good enough,” she said, deliberately mimicking his tone from a moment before.

That made him grin, and his stiff back relaxed. “All right. I also trust your instinct. There was a look in your eye when you said Miest, one that said some part of your mind had made a connection I hadn’t. Once you had a few decent reasons, I couldn’t argue anymore.”

“Connection?” Mirage said, and shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Probably not. But you made one, I’m sure of it. We’ll figure out what it is eventually.”

Mirage shrugged and let him get slightly ahead of her on the road, so that he could not see her face. A connection? No. But some instinct, yes. She wanted to go west, and she didn’t know why.

Except that something that way drew her. And she had no idea what it was.

That night Eclipse brought out the enchanted sheet of rice paper that was their link to their contact. Before he could begin to write on it, though, Mirage put a hand on his wrist.

“I have a different idea,” she said.

He leaned back and eyed her. “Yes?”

“The house where we met the first witch, in Corberth—that wasn’t her house. I’m fairly sure of it. The way she stood—she was a stranger there, and it showed.”

“But…”

“But the second witch was different. That place fit her, shabby as it was. She lives there. Which, come to think of it, suggests she might be Water Ray, serving the people of Ravelle. It’s a big enough town to merit its own witch, though just barely. But anyway, my point is, I think that if we go back to that house, we’ll find her there.”

“Go back unannounced, you mean.”

Mirage nodded. “If she was wearing an illusion, this is how we can find out. If we don’t warn her we’re coming, we should be able to see who she really is.”

The look Eclipse gave her was equal parts amusement and wariness. “You do remember the wards, yes? How neither of the Cousins was surprised to see us at the door? I’m betting that warning systems are the least of their defenses. If we show up without an invitation, we may get fried.”

“I doubt it. Especially with a Water witch; they have sick people coming to them at all hours of the night. I don’t think she’d have a ward that hits people with lightning bolts just because they didn’t announce their visit in advance.”

“That still doesn’t mean she won’t do something herself, when she sees us. Unannounced sick people are one thing; unannounced Hunters are another.”

Mirage shook her head. “Gut instinct says she’s not that kind of person. She won’t kill us.” Then she grinned, a swift, wild expression. “Besides, where’s your sense of fun?”

Mirage’s heart beat at an accelerated pace as they approached the house. Beneath her mask, she was grinning again. Reckless as this plan was, it was also fun. And they would come out of it okay. Probably.

I’m just lucky Eclipse is as stupid as I am, to go along with this.

She half expected lightning to strike them down on the way there, but nothing of the sort happened. They crossed into the garden without any trouble. The back door was locked, but that didn’t stop them for more than a moment. Then they were into the house, moving fast, looking for the witch before the alarm ward that surrounded the place could summon anyone to stop them.

They were in the hallway, on their way to the parlor, when a creak and a singing voice behind them brought the two Hunters spinning around.

Their muscles froze in mid-movement, but by then they had turned far enough to see the witch who had cast the spell.

As Mirage had expected, she looked nothing like the woman they had met in Corberth and, supposedly, here as well. Her hair was much lighter, and shorter; she looked younger as well, with a weak chin and a thick scattering of freckles. The way she moved, though, identified her as the second witch.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out, looking shocked to find them in the hallway.

Shocked and—relieved? I think she really is. As if she’s not happy to see us, but we’re not as bad as whoever she was expecting.

“Among other things,” Eclipse said, indistinctly, since the spell had his face nearly immobilized, “we wanted to ask why you disguised yourself the last time we were here.”

The witch blinked and tried to pull herself together. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Give us some credit,” Mirage said, putting as much bite in her tone as she could given the constriction on bet jaw. “You can recognize a person by more than her face. You’re the witch we met here less than a week ago. Why were you spelled to look like the witch we met in Corberth? Was that even her real face?”

“Of course it was,” the witch said, but Mirage strongly suspected she was lying. “I’m sorry we misled you, but your original contact couldn’t travel out here to meet you in person, the way you wanted. We thought you’d be more comfortable if you thought you were meeting the same witch.”

“Would you mind releasing us?” Eclipse asked mildly. “Oh—sorry.” She whisper-sang a soft phrase, and they could move again. Mirage’s skin shuddered all over in relief as the spell vanished. “Um. Come into the parlor and we’ll talk.”

Watching her go past to lead them into the parlor, Mirage became more certain than ever that their appearance—or rather, its unexpectedness—had given the witch quite a scare. Whom had she expected to find in the hallway?

“So,” the witch said with false brightness when they were seated, “do you have more information for us?”

Eclipse related everything they knew about the Wolf-star. The witch didn’t recognize the description, but they hadn’t expected her to. It was simple courtesy, and proof that they were making progress.

“If you don’t mind, Katsu,” he said suddenly, in the middle of his description, “may we know your Ray? I would prefer to be able to address you properly.” Not as good as knowing her name, but they had figured she probably wouldn’t tell them that.

She opened her mouth, paused, reconsidered, and finally nodded. “I am a witch of the Water Ray.”

“Thank you, Mai,” Eclipse went on, and Mirage brooded. A Fire witch assassinated, and women from the Void, Earth, and Water Rays are involved. Why?

“Now,” Eclipse said when that matter was done, “have you gotten in touch with Tari-nakana’s successor, Kekkai-nakana? It would greatly help our investigation if we could talk to her. In person, preferably. I know she can’t leave Starfall for long, but is there a spell she could use to bring herself out here? Or to take us to her?”

“No,” the witch said curtly. “Living things cannot be moved like that.”

“Then if we could just talk to her, even at a distance. We do need to question her.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible” the witch said, even more curtly.

Mirage’s eyebrows rose. “It’s necessary, Mai.”

“You’ll have to do without it. You will not question Kekkai-nakana.”

“Why not?”

Beside her she felt Eclipse twitch at the utter lack of deference in her tone. Mirage had come to some conclusions about this Water witch, though. She lacked the self-assurance of the Earth witch they had met in Corberth; she could, Mirage was sure, be put off-balance enough to reveal more than she wanted to. She might resort to using magic on them if they pushed too far, but Mirage felt it was worth the risk. After all, they’d already broken into the house. Hanged for a fleece…

The witch’s mouth was working up and down; her expression had turned hunted. “You just can’t.”

Young, and without the other’s composure. She’ll crack. “It’s necessary to our investigation,” Mirage said, hardening her voice. “If you get in our way, you’re interfering with the oath we swore, and slowing our progress. Which, incidentally, could get us killed. Do you want us to solve this or not?”

“You can’t talk to her! She doesn’t know!” The witch looked horrified as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

Eclipse pounced. “She doesn’t know? No one’s told her that her predecessor was assassinated?”

The witch swallowed and lowered her hands from her mouth. A deep breath failed to restore her shredded composure. “No. They haven’t. And she is not to be told. These orders come from beyond me.”

Beyond her. A Key? A Prime? Of her Ray, or another? This just gets more tangled.

“Why hasn’t she been told?” Eclipse asked. “We still don’t know why Tari-nakana was killed; someone may go after Kekkai-nakana next. She should be informed, for her own safety.”

“She has Cousins to guard her,” the witch said hastily. “Cousins weren’t enough for Tari-nakana,” Mirage reminded her. “Even a Hunter wasn’t enough. You can’t assume Kekkai-nakana’s safe from attack. Besides, she may have information crucial to our understanding of why Tari-nakana was killed.”

“She doesn’t, I swear by the Mother. Please believe me. Kekkai-nakana is safe, and she knows nothing.”

“How can you know that?” Mirage demanded. The witch’s expression grew even more desperate. She stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair, and then, before either Hunter could move to stop her, began to sing.

The Hunters’ vision and hearing returned, and the room was empty.

“That was unexpected,” Mirage said, standing up.

Eclipse shook his head to clear it. “To say the least. She’s gone, isn’t she?”

“Gone, and not likely to come back any time soon.” They did a circuit of the house, but found no one, witch or Cousin, and enough personal belongings had been removed to confirm the witch was gone for good.

“We ought to apologize to the people of Ravelle,” Eclipse said as they returned to their inn. “We’ve just robbed them of their witch.”

“Though I have no idea why. What in the Void was going on there?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. That witch is running scared, of us and of something else. But I’m glad it was her we faced down, and not the one from Corberth; she would have been a damn sight harder to crack.”

“True. I just wish we knew what caused the crack.”

They took to the road again as soon as dawn broke. Eclipse pulled the sheet of rice paper from a pocket in his cloak as they rode and raised one eyebrow at Mirage. “Think I should send a message to our dear contact? Or do you think she knows already?”

“That Water witch ran so fast, she’s probably in Starfall by now and has told everything,” Mirage said with a grin.

He laughed and tucked the paper away. “Pity. I was going to ask her to send the description to Jaguar with a spell. It would be a lot more reliable than homing pigeons.”

“I’d rather you not ask,” Mirage said. “I don’t want one of them serving as a go-between for our messages. We keep to ourselves, and they do the same. Most of the time.” Although that formerly clear-cut situation was becoming murkier all the time.

“All right, fair enough. Still, think how convenient it would be, if magic were more common. You could send messages from Insebrar to Abern in an instant—no need for pigeons or couriers.”

“I’d be out a hire or three.”

He laughed again. “Well, maybe there would be need. After all, you wouldn’t want to trust a witch with really private messages. They’ve got their own priorities, for all they talk about serving people.”

“It’s a moot point anyway,” Mirage said. “There aren’t enough of them to make things like mat common.”

“True. And I wonder why?”

Mirage shrugged. “They don’t have many children. Maybe magic somehow causes miscarriages, so they don’t carry most of their babies to term.”

“Or maybe they just have half as many because they don’t ever seem to have sons.”

“We don’t think they do. Who knows what really goes on in Starfall? For all we know, they kill off all the boy children.”

“You have such a cheerful imagination, Sen, you know that?”

“All right, all right. Maybe they miscarry when it’s a boy. It could be a magic thing. Who knows? Ask them, if you really want to know.”

He shuddered. “I’ve had enough of facing down witches for information, thank you.”

The conversation died then, but Mirage kept thinking as they rode. What would things be like, if there were more witches? She didn’t like the idea, but she was biased. When she thought about it logically, it might not be so bad. Witches did do healing, for example; they could do a lot of good if there were enough of them in the Water Ray to cover the towns properly. And the Earth witches worked to prevent droughts or blights, and they kept the starving wolves at bay during harsh northern winters. Fire witches she had less use for; they served the rulers in their political games, and Mirage tended to think the rulers didn’t need any encouragement or help. She also didn’t particularly care about the Void Ray, which did very little to touch the outside world.

Of all the Rays, she felt the most affinity for Air. They were like Silverfire Hunters, traveling constantly, addressing problems where they found them, no matter who it was that needed help.

She envisioned ordinary people having houses with the hot water spells Tari-nakana had set up, spells to keep food fresh, spells to make life a little easier or simpler. ,

And deep in her mind, something clicked.

Mirage realized that she had stopped Mist, and Eclipse was staring at her. She glanced forward and back up the road; there weren’t any travelers in sight, but some might come along.

“You’ve thought of something,” Eclipse said.

“Let’s get off the road.”

They dismounted and led their horses through the thick trees until they found a good place to pause. Mirage teth-ered Mist and hopped up onto a boulder, where she bit one knuckle and stared at the ground. “What is it?” Eclipse asked when his patience ran out. Mirage started, then looked at him. “If you were searching someone’s belongings and found papers you wanted to destroy, what would you do with them?” He blinked. “Burn them, probably.”

“Where?”

“Where? As long as I didn’t care about biding it, on site. If there was a fireplace.”

“Exactly. You’d burn them in the fireplace. So would I. There’s no point in going to the trouble to light a splinter from a lamp or whatever and burn each paper individually, where you found it.”

He saw the connection now. “Yet the ashes in Tari-nakana’s house were all over, in tiny piles, no more than a sheet’s worth or so in any one place. Why?”

“Magic,” Mirage said.

Eclipse’s eyes widened, then narrowed, considering it.

“I can’t imagine it would take more than a tiny bit of power to light each one. A witch wouldn’t think twice about it. She’d find a paper, conjure a lick of flame, and up it goes.”

“So you think a witch trashed her study.” Something else occurred to Mirage then. “And another thing—haw did that Wolfstar get into her house in the first place? It’s one thing for that Water witch to leave her house lightly warded; she expects mundane visitors, living where she does. But Tari-nakana lived in Starfall, and whatever her wards are, they’re strong enough that our contact felt the need to protect us from them. What about the Wolfstar? How did he get inside to set up his second trick, if he didn’t have help?”

Eclipse stared at her. “You think he was hired by a witch?”

She hadn’t considered it until just now, but… “Maybe.”

“Why? And why would they then hire us to investigate it?”

“I can’t answer the first, but for the second… we tend to think of the witches as all getting along. Why should they? Do the Hunter schools?” They both knew how ludicrous that thought was. Even within Silverfire, there were rivalries. “It’s flat-out stupid not to expect factionality within them. So maybe one faction had Tari-nakana killed, and the ones who hired us are on the other side. Assuming there’s only two sides.”

He exhaled slowly, thinking it through. “Warrior’s blood. I thought this might turn out to be messy, but this is…”

“Ugly.”

“Uglier than the Crone with leprosy. Before, we had to worry that we’d die if we didn’t solve this. Now we have to worry that we’ll die if we do.”

“It could explain lots of things, though. Like why witches of so many different Rays are involved in our side; these factions don’t necessarily stick to Ray boundaries.”

“And why our Water contact bolted. Do you think Kekkai-nakana is on the side that hired the Wolfstar?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Our contact might fear that, though. It’s too simplistic to assume right now, but Kekkai-nakana might have had Tari-nakana killed out of ambition alone. And if our contact knows, or at least suspects, that other witches were behind the assassination, no wonder she’s afraid.” Mirage whistled suddenly. “And it explains Avalanche, too. Remember what he said? He was the only one she trusted. Tari-nakana had to have known the ones after her were witches; that’s why she couldn’t rely on Cousins as her bodyguards.”

It was making more and more sense. Mirage wished Avalanche were alive to confirm it, but even without that, the explanation was becoming more and more plausible. And more and more frightening. “Do we say anything yet?” Eclipse asked. Mirage chewed on her knuckle for a long time before answering. “No. Not until we talk to Jaguar. He can tell us about the Void witch who delivered it, if she behaved oddly or seemed to hold any information back.”

“And now we have another reason for going to Silverfire,” Eclipse said soberly. “What?”

“Protection. If we’re right, and witches are behind this, we’re going to be very unpopular with that faction. We may have no choice but to ask for shelter from Silverfire—since I don’t want to depend on ‘our’ side to keep us safe.”

Mirage shivered. Eclipse was all too right. She could feel the eyes upon her already, hunting her, after her blood, like a palpable weight on the back of her neck. Eyes that were closing in with every heartbeat. They hadn’t even told anyone their suspicions yet; when they did, the pursuit would begin in deadly earnest.

And however well-trained a fighter she might be, she had no way to protect herself against magic.