Doppelganger

13 Hunters

Mirage didn’t want to stop in Angrim, but they didn’t have a lot of choice. They still hadn’t sent a bird ahead to Silverfire, and the horses needed the rest anyway.

Who am I kidding? I need the rest, too. I’ve been on the mad just as long as Mist has. From Insebrar to Abern to Starfall to Insebrar again to here—I haven’t really stopped since Chervie, and that little holiday got cut short.

They had been driving themselves hard since Starfall, first to reach Avalanche before he left Vilardi, and then to get to Miest before trouble could catch up to them. They had not told anyone of their suspicions, and there had been no sign of pursuit from Vilardi, but still the hairs on the back of Mirage’s neck refused to lie down. She could not escape that hunted feeling, and it had begun to seriously grate on her nerves.

So this delay in Angrim, while frustrating, was also nice. It was a welcome chance to sit in something other than a saddle; to walk on her own two feet through the daylit streets of a town; to wake up in the same bed two mornings in a row.

Mirage slept for an exceptionally long time their first night in Angrim, and woke just before noon. She stretched luxuriously, legs dangling off the narrow bed. She’d recovered from the lump on her head she’d taken in that brawl, and her knee was mostly better, but they’d been two weeks on the road from Vilardi, and she didn’t have much energy left. While these hours of sleep had not been strictly necessary—she’d gone on in worse condition before—they had been very pleasant. Her nerves had calmed as well. In the sunlit quiet of her room, she reveled in the lack of tension. She no longer felt as if she must check the road behind her for pursuit every few minutes. It was truly a relief.

All right, lazy. You’ve lounged around in bed for long enough; time to get up and get some things done.

She found Eclipse downstairs in the common room, enjoying an early lunch. He raised an eyebrow at her, but chose not to comment on her late rising; in a way it was a pity. Mirage was in a good enough mood that for once she wouldn’t have retaliated.

The reason for his silence became apparent soon enough. He needed her in that good mood. “I’ve been checking the horses, and they need to be reshod before we head on.”

The day was half gone, and his expression was wary. It wasn’t hard for Mirage to figure out. “You want to stay an extra day.”

Eclipse nodded. “There’s a farrier who can do it today, but he shod Sparker last year and I really don’t like his work. The one I’d rather get can’t do it until tomorrow.”

Yesterday Mirage would have snapped his nose off; yesterday she felt as though she were being targeted by an archer. “That sounds fine. It’ll give me a chance to mend some tack and get everything else back in order. Have you gotten supplies yet?”

The look on his face was priceless. “You’re not going to argue?”

“Not really. I don’t think the extra day will hurt us, and I can certainly find productive ways to use it.”

“I won’t complain. Especially since I haven’t even begun to get supplies—I woke late, too.” His grin was not very repentant.

“No wonder you didn’t chide me. I expected you to.”

“I can chide you, if you’d like.”

“No, thank you.” Mirage stretched again and looked around the common room, which was empty aside from them; the inn did not begin serving nonguests until dinner. “This quiet is nice. Especially in light of our recent adventures. No brawls, no suspicious guards, and best of all, not a cockroach in sight.”

He cocked his head and studied her face. “You’re not feeling as edgy, are you?”

“Nope. Which is why I’m in a good mood. Take advantage of it while you can.”

“Can I borrow some money?”

“Don’t press your luck.” They grinned at each other, in genuine, unadulterated good humor for the first time in a while.

Which was odd, given that as far as they knew, their situation hadn’t improved. But the more Mirage thought about it, the more she felt pleased at the thought of staying in Angrim, maybe even wandering around the town a little bit, seeing what interesting things she might happen across. She’d been in Angrim many times before, but still…

You can’t stay forever, she reminded herself. You’ve still got trouble on your back.

But since a certain amount of delay was inevitable, she might as well enjoy the respite.

Miryo knew her doppelganger was in Angrim the moment she rode through the gate. Its presence hit her with palpable force; every nerve in her body hummed before subsiding into a quieter but still noticeable murmur.

“It’s here,” she said to the Cousins, pitching her voice to just carry over the noise of the town.

They both glanced at her briefly, then returned their attention to the crowd with redoubled fervor. I think they expect it to leap out and attack me right here. I wonder if it can tell I’m coming?

“Let’s find the house, and then we’ll make a plan,” she said, and began to press through the crowd.

The house in question was new, being a part of the Air Ray’s plan to maintain places for witches to stay while they traveled. There weren’t many of them yet; the money to build them came largely from the Void Ray, and they gave slowly. This one, though, had benefitted from donations from Fire. Angrim was the capital city of Abern, and often had witches on diplomatic missions passing through. So the house, instead of being a modest little waystation, was palatial. Since no one else was there at the moment, Miryo had no qualms about commandeering it for herself.

It was a good thing, she reflected, that her double was here, that the long chase was drawing to a close. She needed it to end; the stress and effort had taken their toll, and she had pushed a fast pace from Haira to here. Their horses were not in good shape. But once her doppelganger was taken care of, they could rest here for a few days, then ride at a more sedate pace back to Starfall.

She could even cast spells to make their journey easier.

Miryo allowed herself a small smile that was hardly sufficient to express the glee she felt at that thought. Magic. My magic. Soon I’ll be able to use it.

They found the house without trouble. The place was quite large; Miryo was amused at the ostentation the Fire Ray seemed to think was necessary. Did traveling ambassadors truly need a multistory house just to stay in overnight? She chose a bedroom and sat on the bed to ponder the situation while the Cousins brought the baggage up. Her double was in Angrim, but for how long? It hadn’t shown any inclination to stay in one place for long before. She needed some way to find it, and quickly, but without scaring it off.

And what happens when you find it, little girl? Are you going to kill it on the spot?

That was another problem, one she hadn’t let herself address before. How was she going to kill her doppelganger? Her magic couldn’t be trusted, and the Primes had explicitly outlawed it for this task anyway. She had to dp it herself; she couldn’t use the Cousins. But what if it knew how to fight?

Look at it this way. You know nothing about fighting. Therefore, it can’t possibly know less than you do, and there’s a good chance it knows more. If nothing else, it’s got to have scuffled with local boys as a child. So chances are you’re going to be at some kind of a disadvantage when it comes to blows.

But it didn’t have to come to an out—and-out fight. She had to kill it herself, but was there any rule against having someone else capture it first?

The Cousins could do that. They could take it prisoner and bring it back here, where Miryo could… dispatch it.

That hardly seemed fair.

Fairness doesn’t enter into it. This is necessary. Besides, it’ll get its fair fight, when the Cousins go after it. Once they have it prisoner, it’s as good as dead anyway, so it’s not that much different from me attacking and killing it on the spot. And, since she had already established that doing so would be one step away from suicidal, this was her only workable plan.

A knock sounded on the door. “Come in,” Miryo said.

Kan entered and waited patiently.

“It’s here,” Miryo said at last. “I don’t know where exactly, not yet. I’m going to go out into the town. You and Sai wait here. Prepare one of the attic rooms to hold a prisoner, as best as you can.”

“I’ll do that,” Kan said. “Sai will accompany you.”

Miryo grimaced, but she wasn’t surprised. Her efforts to convince them she didn’t need a watchdog had comprehensively failed. “All right. I won’t be gone long.”

She went down into the streets, Sai ghosting along behind her in the midday crowd. It’s here, somewhere within these walls. No sense of direction, though; I must be too close. Real helpful. My instinct would choose now to desert me.

What if I wander into it, here on the street?

The thought turned Miryo cold. She wasn’t ready. Only Sai was here—not that a combat-trained Cousin was anything to sniff at. But it would cause all kinds of comment if there was a fight here on the street. And even if she didn’t encounter her doppelganger face-to-face, what if a merchant mentioned to it that he had seen a woman very tike it earlier that day?

Miryo turned on her heel and left the crowded street as quickly as she could.

Her feet carried her without any real sense of direction. She wasn’t sure which way the inn was, and couldn’t yet bring herself to ask Sai. As it was, her wandering brought her to a place she wanted to go.

She went up the steps and into the temple’s cool interior without thinking about it twice, it was the first time she’d set foot in a temple not built for witches’ use, and she gazed around it in curiosity. This one was pentagonal in layout, with a door at each corner; from her studies, she knew it was an unusual design. The interior face of each wall was devoted to a different Aspect of the Goddess. The middle was open to the sky; Miryo hummed and sensed the spell that covered the opening, keeping leaves and other such litter out. Rain, however, could enter freely, as could snow and birds, so the natural world still had access.

Standing in the sunlight, Miryo made a complete turn, looking at all five statues of the Goddess. Maiden, Bride, Mother, Crone, Warrior. She hesitated among them; the Warrior governed violence and death, but she could use the calm of the Mother’s Water, or the solidity of the Crone’s Earth. In the end she chose the Maiden’s shrine; that was her current stage of life, and determination and passion were what she needed at the moment.

Sai dropped back to give Miryo privacy as she prepared herself for prayer. Since the shrine was the Maiden’s, purification involved lighting a candle and meditating briefly on its dancing flame before she carried it with her to the shrine proper.

Once there, she slid her candle into the holder provided and sat cross-legged, gazing up at the statue of the carefree, passionate Maiden.

Youngest, Lady of Fire, you who are the energy of determination and drive—help me. I need your attributes. I’m not sure I can do this.

I’m afraid. And I freely admit it. I’m afraid of failure; I’m afraid of success, and what it might cost me. I’ve never killed a person; I never thought I’d have to. I’ve never even seen anyone die. But if I am to use my gift, the gift that is my birthright and what I have struggled for all these years—I have to kill.

Maiden, Goddess, why did you make it this way?

It’s one thing to kill the doppelganger as an infant, to go through the ritual before your gaze, your holy starlight, has fallen on the child’s face. The baby has no soul when it becomes two, and so the double can be killed without guilt, and the witch-child taken outside to be presented to you. But I do not doubt that, in the years it has been alive, my doppelganger has been in that starlight-has bathed in your light.

Does that mean it has a soul?

If it has a soul, am I right to kill it?

The question had been gnawing at Miryo for days, twisting her up inside even though she tried to put it from her thoughts. Did her doppelganger have a soul? If it did, could she in good conscience kill it, and go on with her own life?

The Maiden gazed down at her, laughing and carefree. Not worrying about consequences.

All right. If a man attacked me with a sword, I’d defend myself. And if there were no way to keep myself safe other than killing him… I’d do it. If there were no other choice. Souls don’t matter, in that situation—or rather, they do, and I value mine above his. There is no wrong in killing when it is self-defense, when there truly is no other option.

There is no other option here. I kill it, or my magic spins out of control and eventually kills me, and maybe other people along with me. How many times have I caught myself almost reaching for power, the words of a spell on my lips, waiting to be spoken? As in Haira. One of these days I won’t be able to stop myself. So I kill my doppelganger, or it kills me. Two choices. Because I have a will to survive, I know which one I will choose. And I will live with the deed. I do that, or I die.

The Maiden smiled blithely.

Lend me your energy, Lady of Fire. Lend me your passion and determination. Do not let me lose sight of what I have fought for all these years.

“In your name,” Miryo whispered, and stood. She backed out into the center of the temple, where she bowed to each Aspect, and then left, Sai following without a word.

Hunters often laughed that every other person in Angrim was an agent. It wasn’t all that far from the truth. Angrim played buffer between not one but two nearby Hunter schools: Thornblood to the north and Windblade to the south. Since the two didn’t get along, the town’s narrow streets were infested with their people, keeping watch from the overhanging upper stories of houses and shops. And other schools, having a vested interest in keeping an eye on those two, also seeded Angrim with their agents. The result was a city in which half the inhabitants were spying on the other half. Even those who weren’t hired to gather information still sold it as a hobby.

Because of this rampant intrigue, contacting a Silverfire agent was not so simple as it had been in Chiero. Mirage took the first step of the dance that afternoon.

“Beer and a leg of goat,” she said, dropping onto a stool at an open-air bar in the eastern quarter, safely equidistant between the Thornblood and Windblade ends of the city.

The barkeep raised an eyebrow. “We don’t sell goat here. Go to Razi if you want that.”

“You should serve it; tastes better than lamb. But forget the food. I’ll just have the beer.”

He served it to her, and went about his business.

A little while later, Mirage spoke to him again. “Do you know any herb-women around here? I’ve been having some stomach problems.”

“Where are you staying in the city?” he asked.

“The Fisherman’s Hook,” Mirage lied.

He nodded thoughtfully. “There’s a woman two streets over, on Thimble Lane, who could help you. She’ll probably prescribe urgony, though, so if you can’t stand the stuff you shouldn’t go to her. If that’s the case, I suggest the one at the corner of Lord’s Way and Axehaft.”

“Axehaft? That doesn’t intersect Lord’s Way.”

He smacked his forehead. “Fletcher, I meant. Fletcher Street.”

“Thanks,” Mirage said, and left.

She had to grin as she left. The elaborate steps she had to tread to meet the contact, though necessary, were a very silly game. The request for goat had marked her as a Hunter; the stomach upset asked after a certain contact. Since she had named the Fisherman’s Hook, he knew she was at the Cracked Oak. Urgony meant the contact would come tonight. The misnamed street said how.

She visited the herb-woman on Thimble Lane, to keep up appearances, but conveniently forgot to take the medicine she prescribed. Then, after a solid dinner back at the Cracked Oak, she retired upstairs to mend tack.

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. One, then two quick.

Mirage rose and let in her contact.

“A ‘female complaints’ healer?” she said, raising one eyebrow mockingly. “What a dull disguise.”

Wisp looked unamused, and since she had a face like a knife and had long since mastered the art of making her five-foot body seem ten feet tall, the look carried force. “I’m getting old. Climbing through windows is something I leave to stupid young Silverfires who need to show off their shadow-skulking. Stealth isn’t all about hiding behind bushes, you know.”

Mirage bowed. “Have a seat, then, and rest your old bones, which are no more decrepit than your tongue—and I see that hasn’t lost any vigor.”

That made Wisp grin, but only slightly. Her weathered face looked hard enough to fight a rock and win. A real smile might have broken it. “All right. What do you need?”

“Not much. A message to Silverfire.”

“Which is?”

Mirage passed her the paper. The code on it was complex enough that Mirage always had to work to write in it; Wisp read it like ordinary lettering. “Huh. You bringing trouble down on us, girl?”

“I hope not,” Mirage said. “But better to be safe than sorry.”

“A good motto to live by, though not one most Hunters pay more than lip service to. Why in the name of the Warrior did you take this job?”

“You would have.”

“Just because I was young and stupid doesn’t mean you have to follow in my footsteps.”

“Ah, but then you became old and wise.” Mirage put her hands up in mock-defense against Wisp’s glare. “I wanted a commission. And it looked like a challenge.”

“You hate the witches. So why are you working for them?”

Mirage shrugged uncomfortably. She still couldn’t explain it.

Wisp gave her a close look, and then nodded slowly. “All right. You’re not the most levelheaded Hunter Silverfire’s ever produced, but you’re not entirely stupid, and you have a good instinct.” Her face grew even more serious then. “Watch out, though. The city is crawling with those damn bastards.”

“Those damn bastards,” in Wisp’s lexicon, meant Thornbloods. “More than usual?”

“A whole crew of them have been here for the last week or so—between jobs, and champing at the bit. Watch out for them. I know you don’t get along with their kind.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“As if that means anything with you children. Five years out of school, and eager to prove you’re the next legend. Burning Angrim down around our ears is not the way to do that.”

Mirage grinned. “Trust me. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow. I’ll do my best not to get into trouble before that.”

Miryo paced restlessly, back and forth across the length of her room. It lacked an hour yet until her plan could be put into motion, and every minute grated on her nerves like a rasp.

I might well be flayed alive if the Primes find out about this.

She blessed the Goddess for sending her Kan and Sai. She doubted any two other Cousins would have gone along with this; more than a few would have turned her in on the spot. There were several witches in Angrim they could hand her over to.

She forced herself to stop pacing and took a deep breath.

You’ve made the plan. Now see it through. A half hour before the appointed time, she went downstairs. The most convenient thing about living in a house constructed by the Fire Ray was that it had structures built in to accommodate spies. It was to one of those she went, and there, alone in the stuffy darkness, she closed her eyes and calmed her breathing. Now she just had to wait.

A clanging sound; that would be the gate bell. Miryo’s breath caught.

Footsteps. Sai opening the door, welcoming the visitor. Two sets of footsteps, one of them quite faint. Then Miryo put her eye to the spyhole, bit one fingernail, took it out of her mouth, and watched.

The Hunter entered the room.

Kan, garbed in a newly bought dress, Miryo’s triskele pendant around her neck, inclined her head. That was the hanging offense, right there. The penalty for masquerading as a witch was severe. And very few Cousins would have agreed to it. But Miryo couldn’t bring herself to say to the Hunter, “Find someone who looks like me.” Nor could she show the drawings; the effect would be the same. So she needed a substitute witch, and since Sai hardly ever opened her mouth, it had to be Kan.

“What is it you want done, Katsu?”

The disguised Cousin held out one of Ryll’s sketches from Haira. “This woman is in Angrim. Find her. Bring her to me. Do not kill her. You have two days to carry this out. Your fee will be ten up front, and fifteen more upon completion.”

The Hunter took the paper, and although the mask hid her expression from sight, Miryo received an impression of surprise, and perhaps even triumph. “I accept. You’ll have her within a day.”