Doppelganger

22 Flight

“Does Ashin frighten you as much as she does me?”

Miryo had to laugh, despite the tension weighing on her. “Yes. She’s so single-minded it’s unbelievable. There’s the problem, which she knows; there’s the solution, which she’s looking for, and there’s the Goddess, who will make it all okay.”

“When you put it that way, she doesn’t sound all that different from us. But somehow… I don’t know. I think it’s the way she’s willing to gamble so many lives, including her own daughter’s, on this.”

“Yes.” Miryo fingered the tail of her braid, twisting it around her finger. “Maybe that’s the only way to do it, though. There really is a problem. The clergy have been saying so forever, and we’ve been ignoring them. I think that ‘unbalanced’ thing must have something to do with this. Which is encouraging, in a way; it means that we are right, at least in thinking that the current situation is wrong.”

“Whether any of our hypothetical solutions are right is another story.”

“I guess we’ll find out.” She glanced up sharply as a rumble of thunder reached her ears.

Mirage also looked up and made a sour face. They were in a large, open field probably intended for grazing, though at the moment no livestock were in it. There was no shelter to be had, other than the low stone wall at then-side. Miryo, considering the incoming weather, wished they had gone ahead and pushed to reach the next town, but Mirage had advised keeping as low a profile as possible.

Eclipse approached their campsite as a second roll of thunder began. He had been some distance away, bathing in the stream; he ran a hand through his wet hair and gave the sky an irritated look. “I might have saved myself the walk, and just waited for the rain to wash me off.”

“Two baths won’t kill you,” Mirage said.

Ill weather might make them all sick, though. Miryo glanced at the wall. “Could we rig up cloaks over this? That might give us at least a little bit of shelter.” If there was a more exposed place to camp within a hundred miles, she’d be surprised.

“We can try,” Mirage said. And, as Miryo had hoped, the Hunters were able to set something up. They weighted one edge of their cloaks onto the wall with loose stones, and set their saddles on the inside of the other edge, forming a sloping roof. It would hold for at least a while, provided the winds didn’t become too strong.

“I refuse to do this again,” Miryo said when they were finished. “Dye my hair; Void it, cut off my nose and I won’t complain. I just want to sleep in a building.”

“It won’t be bad after tonight,” Mirage said. “Soon we’ll be in trees again, and then we’ll be able to set up something much better. Besides, the bad weather probably won’t last long. Summers have been dry, lately.”

“All the more reason we’re due for a wet one.” Hearing the whine in her own voice, Miryo grimaced. “Sorry.”

“I can hardly throw stones at you for being in a bad mood. I feel the same way myself.”

Eclipse glanced at them both, but said nothing. He had reacted little to their account of their meeting with Ashin. Lately he seemed to have assumed the responsibility of keeping them in one piece until they found their answer or killed themselves trying. Beyond that, he was keeping his mouth shut. Not long ago, such behavior would have intimidated Miryo, but she was becoming accustomed to him. He had begun treating her the way he did Mirage. This made things a little problematic for Miryo, who didn’t understand him the way her doppelganger did, but she just followed Mirage’s lead: If Eclipse’s silence didn’t bother her, Miryo wouldn’t worry about it, either.

Mirage tapped her on the arm. Suppressing a sigh, Miryo got up and followed her out from under the shelter of the cloaks.

They had agreed to pray together every night, in hope of deriving some kind of inspiration from it. Miryo wasn’t sure how productive it would be, but it couldn’t hurt. If nothing else, it meant she’d at least go to the Goddess’s arms with a good record of piety.

She banished such negative thoughts with a grimace. Thinking like that won’t get you anywhere.

The first sporadic drops of rain began to fall. Miryo knelt on the ground at Mirage’s side, looked at the sky, and began to pray.

I don’t think this is doing much good.

Mirage suppressed a sigh. It wouldn’t help to let Miryo know her heart was not truly in their prayers. It wasn’t that she didn’t care; her life was on the line, after all. She just didn’t get the feeling that kneeling out here in the mud was getting them anywhere.

Once again she turned her mind to the ins and outs of their problem, in hope of having some sudden revelation that would make everything clear. No such luck. Separation still struck her as their best option, but Ashin hadn’t favored it, and Miryo seemed to agree with the Key. They’d spent the ride so far cooking up bizarre schemes for making Mirage a part of the casting process instead.

She still had to shudder at the proposition Eclipse had put forth. He hadn’t meant it seriously, but the potential consequences didn’t bear thinking about. He had suggested that they try to create the channel for power in Mirage.

I can just see me spawning another one of me—of us—whatever. Three people with one soul. As if two aren’t enough. And we’d still have an antimagical doppelganger around, which wouldn’t solve anything.

Miryo had tried teaching Mirage to sing a spell, but that had been a miserable failure. Not only could Mirage barely tell one note from another, she found it impossible to remember the proper order of the syllables. The language used for magic was not easy to learn, and small errors had meaning. She’d accidentally said “kosuda” instead of “koshuda,” and Miryo had fallen about laughing. According to the witch, she would have been summoning fish instead of a wind.

What else was there? They had already tried being in physical contact, the same night she had Eclipse knock her out. None of it was working.

Mirage realized her breathing had quickened. She forced herself to slow down. Even if I can’t concentrate, I shouldn’t distract Miryo.

She knew that Eclipse thought she had become resigned to dying in the attempt. He was wrong, although Mirage could not have said exactly why. She had said at one point that it was because “die trying” wasn’t even an option; she would succeed. That wasn’t quite it, though. And it wasn’t Ashin’s blind belief that the Goddess would make it all right.

Maybe it’s just that I can’t believe I really might die.

Oh, and this is a cheerful train of thought.

She shook the gloomy feeling off with an effort. Even as she did so, the intermittent drops from the sky became a real rain. Mirage sighed inwardly, but said nothing; Miryo was deep in prayer, and she would stay out here as long as her double did.

But Miryo was in fact not deep in prayer. She was looking at Mirage.

When she realized this, Mirage blinked. Miryo’s eyes slid quickly away, but Mirage had to grin. “Have you been praying?” she asked.

Miryo looked uncomfortable. “I… I just can’t concentrate. I’m sorry if I distracted you.”

At that, Mirage laughed outright. “And here I am, kneeling in the rain because I don’t want to interrupt you. What a stupid pair we make.”

“Do you want to go back in?”

“No, I’d rather sit out here in the mud.” Mirage snorted and got to her feet. “Enough of this. Maybe some sects would tell us suffering is good for the soul, but I think the Goddess will understand if we forgo this in favor of not catching cold.”

The rain, which had been showing every sign of blowing through quickly, changed its mind and camped out over the road they were taking. It did not improve Miryo’s mood. She had hoped for a while that it would be possible to teach Mirage the words and pitches of a spell, and that this might be the answer to their problems—or at least the right idea—but she finally had to concede defeat. Her doppelganger was trying, but she didn’t have the ear, or the voice.

Well, at least twenty-five years of study accomplished something. Even if I can’t use it.

She found she was chewing on one thumbnail and made herself stop. Fine, so that idea won’t work. Think of another one. You haven’t tried everything, and maybe something you think is completely outlandish will turn out to be the answer. You’ll never know until you try.

Of course, trying might well kill her.

But if I don’t try, I’ll still end up using my magic by accident. I know I will. I almost bit my tongue off last night, trying to keep myself from interfering with the rain. During the fight with Wraith, it felt so good to pull power. Even though I didn’t really have it under control I’m going to get us killed.

For a while she rode with the fond fantasy that the Primes knew the key to solving it all, and were keeping it from her out of a spiteful desire to undermine the Goddess’s gift. She particularly enjoyed the idea of hitting Shimi over the head with something large and heavy; the Prime was one of the few reasons she still wasn’t sure about joining the Air Ray.

Shimi wasn’t a truly bad person, though, and there could definitely be worse Primes. Miryo still remembered Ikkena-chashi, the Earth Prime who had preceded Koika during the first two years Miryo had been at Starfall. That woman’s heart had been carved out of stone—assuming she had one to begin with. And Ashin would make a miserable Prime. Her temper got the best of her much too often. Shimi would likely be succeeded by Naji, though, who was the current Heart Key, and who would make a very good Prime when the time came.

And thinking about that is getting you nowhere. Stop wasting time.

A fat splat of water hit Miryo in the face at that exact moment, and she bit back a swear word. Then, with a sigh, she bent her mind once more to the task of finding a way to stay alive.

At least we’ve got trees over our heads. That makes it better. Sort of.

Just keep telling yourself that.

Mirage stared fixedly at a spot between Mist’s ears and did her best to ignore the rain. It was doing nothing to lighten her mood.

Travel conditions were becoming increasingly worse as they moved into the foothills of western Abern, where the road was, often as not, a thin sheen of slick mud over slate. Mirage cast a watchful eye to her right. The path dropped away into a short, crumbling slope, and then flattened out into a streambed. With the dry weather lately, flash flooding was a distinct possibility. And that was the last thing they needed today.

Then they rounded a bend in the road, and Mirage changed her mind. No, this was the last thing we needed today.

Three Cousins, mounted on horses, were in the road, blocking their path.

Lightning cracked overhead as the two groups stared at each other.

“We have a message,” the center one said at last, pitching her voice to carry through the worsening rain. “Will you hear it?”

After a moment, Miryo nudged her horse forward, until she was just in front of Mirage and Eclipse. “I will.”

“From the Primes: ‘We gave you one final chance in hopes that you would understand and return to us. We grieve that you chose to ignore our words. Now we are forced to take steps on our own.’”

Mirage didn’t wait to hear a single word more. She lunged forward, grabbing the bridle of Miryo’s horse, and kneed Mist sideways off the trail.

She took the Cousins by surprise. Mirage risked a single glance behind her as she threw her weight backward in the saddle; they were still on the road, in disarray. Then Mist’s footing slipped and Mirage had to concentrate on riding her horse down the soaking wet, disintegrating slope.

Somehow they made it to the bottom in one piece. Mist gave a convulsive leap as she bit the foot of the slope and cleared most of the stream; to her right Eclipse had ducked low over the neck of Sparker, who was doing the same. Miryo’s horse floundered through the water behind them. And then Mirage heard shouting on the road above.

She looked back and up in time to see a knot of Cousins appear on the path, behind their original position, and plunge down the slope after them.

Void it. They had reinforcements.

Eclipse swerved right, and Mirage followed him. Dead ahead the land climbed sharply up again, and even if the horses could manage it in this rain they would lose too much time.

Mirage was worried. All three of their horses had been on the road for a long stretch without real rest; how would they hold up in an extended chase? Already Miryo’s gelding was falling behind.

Then a roar up ahead drew her attention forward.

The land in front of them dropped away again. The gully wasn’t nearly as steep, but it was filled nearly to the top with rushing, churning water: flooding from the rain. Mirage gritted her teeth and cued Mist with her heels; the only way across was to jump.

Mist cleared it. An instant later, so did Sparker.

And then, behind them, a crack, a horse’s scream, and a squelching, rolling thud.

Mirage reined Mist in so hard the mare stumbled. She looked back over her shoulder, and her worst fears were confirmed.

Miryo’s gelding was flailing in the mud, screaming in agony; one foreleg was clearly broken. Next to him, facedown and unmoving, was Miryo.

And just past her, on the other side of the stream, ten or twelve Cousins.

Mirage knew what she had to do. But she sat there, motionless, staring at the form of her fallen double.

Miryo wasn’t moving.

“Come on!” Eclipse roared.

The Cousins would be clearing the stream any second.

“Move your Void-damned ass!”

Mirage closed her eyes. Warrior have mercy. I do what I must.

She slammed her heels into Mist’s sides, and the mare leapt forward, into the teeth of the wind, away from the stream. Away from Miryo.

Leaving her to the Cousins.

Not all of them stayed behind at the stream. Mirage heard splashing, and guessed that at least a couple had not made the jump; of those who did, some reined in around Miryo’s fallen form, and the rest pursued the Hunters across the muddy ground.

Eclipse led the way, up a gentler slope and into the shadows of the trees beyond. Mirage was hard on his heels. They slowed as they passed between the first trunks; one misstep in here and their horses would go down. The only bright side was that it would slow the Cousins just as badly. And the two Hunters were more accustomed to riding under bad conditions than the witches’ servants; in wooded terrain like this, they had the edge.

The chase stretched out, with pursuers dropping away one at a time, fanning out to cover the area more thoroughly in case the Hunters diverged from their course. Mirage was numb inside; she let Eclipse choose their way without even paying attention to what he was doing.

She’d left Miryo behind.

There had been a dozen Cousins there. Not odds Mirage favored. Had she ridden back to the stream, even with Eclipse at her side, she would have gone down.

But she had left Miryo behind.

The betrayal stabbed her, a razor-edged knife twisting in her gut She could go back; she would, later, and try to rescue her double. But at that moment, when Miryo had gone down, Mirage had ridden on.

Leaving her behind.

Light pierced her eyes. The clouds that had blanketed the sky all day were breaking up; rain still fell, but in the west the sky was clearing enough to let the sun through. It was later in the day than Mirage had thought And they had just ridden out of the trees. Up ahead Eclipse twisted around in his saddle to look back at her.

“Have we lost them?” he asked.

They both reined in to listen and heard a crashing not too far behind. “No,” Mirage said grimly. “Although most of them are gone.”

The two Hunters urged their horses forward again, making for another small wood visible in the distance. They had not covered even half the ground to it, though, when behind them three Cousins broke free of the trees and sighted them with a triumphant cry.

The Cousins’ horses were fresher than either Mist or Sparker. Mirage, looking ahead, realized that they would not make the next patch of trees in time.

An unpleasant grin crossed her face; she was barely aware of it.

She cued Mist to slow ever so slightly, so that the lead Cousin would catch up to her sooner. Up ahead, Eclipse did not notice. Mirage kicked her left foot clear of the stirrup for just a moment, and then hooked her toe back in from the other side, so that the stirrup was twisted around.

The first Cousin had almost drawn abreast.

Mirage suddenly pulled her horse up short. As she did so, she swung her right leg clear of the saddle; her left foot in the twisted stirrup and her hands planted on the saddle’s cantle gave her a pivot point for a roundhouse kick that took the Cousin completely by surprise. Mirage’s foot slammed into the woman’s shoulder and threw her backward, clean out of her saddle and onto the ground. Her last sight, as she whipped her right leg around to drop herself back in the saddle, was of the woman rolling into the path of the second Cousin on their trail.

Eclipse had finally noticed what she was doing. He was pulling Sparker around in a circle, but Mirage kicked Mist forward and caught up to him. An unpleasant thud behind them told her the fallen Cousin had tripped up her compatriot’s horse.

Which left just one.

They reached the wood. Mirage reached up for a low-hanging branch and pulled herself out of the saddle and into an elm. Eclipse had anticipated this one; he grabbed Mist’s bridle and kept the mare moving forward, deeper into the wood.

The Cousin raced closer.

Stupid. One Cousin against two Hunters?

The woman didn’t stand a chance. As she rode under the tree, Mirage dropped. The horse reared at the unexpected weight on its hindquarters. As she and the Cousin fell, she made sure the other woman ended up on the bottom. Her head slammed into a rock. Mirage didn’t even have to knock her out.

She took a moment to scan the muddy field they’d just left. Some distance away, she could just see a Cousin rising unsteadily to her feet, cradling a broken arm.

There was no one else moving.

Mirage turned and jogged deeper into the trees to find Eclipse.

“I’m going with you.”

“Void you are.”

Eclipse grabbed Mirage’s arm as she took hold of Mist’s bridle. “You, alone, against how many Cousins? You’re good, Sen, but not that good.”

She gave him a quick grin, even though it was the last expression her face wanted to assume. “I’ll be quiet.”

“You’ll be dead. And that’s what they want.”

Mirage shook her head. “Miryo’s the only one who can kill me, remember? Ashin confirmed it. And according to Miryo, they can’t magically force her to kill me if she doesn’t want to. A spell like that has to have something to work with.”

“So then they lock you in a cell until her magic kills you both. Great alternative.”

Mirage wrenched her arm free of his grip with a violent twist. “What do you want me to do? Let her rot in their hands? Run away? Warrior damn my soul black if I do. I left her there on the field because I didn’t have any other choice, but now I do. I can sneak up to them, and try to get her loose.”

“Let me go with you, then.”

“No.” Mirage shook her head emphatically. “Two people are more noticeable than one.”

“And two people can kill more other people than one can.”

“I hope to kill as few people as possible. Besides, Kerestel,” and she took care to soften her tone, “I need you to do something else.”

“Ah. Here comes the thinly disguised excuse to keep me away.”

“It’s not an excuse. I need you to go back to Silverfire.”

He stared at her. “What? Why?”

“The other doppelgangers. Jaguar needs to know about them, and about me. The Primes will learn they exist eventually—if they don’t already know—and they will find them. That can’t be allowed to happen. If Miryo and I go down in this, those girls have got to be around to keep trying for an answer.”

She could tell by his face that he did not like hearing her talk about dying. “That can wait, can’t it?”

“No. Please, Kerestel, do this for me. I’ve got to know that they’ll be protected.”

He dropped his head, then kicked a rock suddenly. “I don’t like it. Letting you ride off alone is a shitty idea.”

Mirage reached out and lifted his chin so she could look at him directly. In his eyes she saw worry, even fear. For a brief moment it warmed the cold place inside her, to remember that he was her friend, and would ride with her into the middle of a nest of Cousins and Primes if she would only let him.

“I’ve got to do this, Kerestel,” she whispered. “I left Miryo there. I owe a debt to her. To her, and to the Goddess.”

He hugged her suddenly, fingers digging into the muscles of her back. “Don’t get yourself killed just because you expect to. You’re better than them, Sen. Find a way through and come back alive.”

Mirage blinked back unexpected tears and nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”