Doppelganger

23 Power

Satomi was many days’ ride away, but the image of her in the mirror was very nearly as intimidating as the Void Prime in person.

“We regret that you forced us to this,” Satomi said.

Miryo shrugged, meeting the woman’s pale green eyes without fear. She was done with playing the role of obedient underling. Satomi knew that she had pitched her lot in with Mirage and Ashin. It didn’t much matter what she said now. “If you say so. I followed the only course I saw that did not dishonor my commitment to the Goddess.”

Satomi’s expression was hard and cold, unmoved by Miryo’s words. “If you were truly devoted to her, you would heed the words of her chosen one, Misetsu. Instead, you took a different path, turning your back on us and placing everything the Goddess has given us in danger.”

“The Goddess gives you doppelgangers, and you kill them.”

“She separates them so that we may be refined for her gift. She divides that which might hinder us.”

“So you think.” Miryo shrugged again, carelessly. “I think you’re wrong. But that’s kind of obvious.”

The Void Prime was less than pleased with her unruffled attitude. Miryo wondered if she could tell it was all a facade. In truth, her heart was beating triple time; her hands would be trembling if she didn’t have them clasped in her lap. It was taking every ounce of control she had to keep her voice even, to meet the eyes of the projection without flinching or looking away.

“For the sake of what you once were,” Satomi said, “and in remembrance of the promise you once showed, I tell you that I do not relish what we must do.”

I just bet, Miryo thought cynically.

As if she had heard that thought, the Void Prime’s eyes hardened. “You will tell us everything you know about the heretics Tari subverted before her death. It will go easier for you if you tell us willingly, but whether you do or not, we will get that information.”

“And then what? You’ll kill Mirage? You can’t. I’m the only one who can do it, and I refuse.”

Satomi shook her head. “No. We cannot permit you to live; you will spread the poison that Tari began. And so we will kill you both.” She arched her thin eyebrows at Miryo. “Did the heretics not tell you that? You are the only one who can kill your doppelganger, and it is the only one who can kill you—but that assumes you wish to leave the other one alive. All we need do is kill you both at once, and our problem is eliminated.”

What little self-assurance Miryo had vanished with a sickening lurch. For the thousandth time since she woke up, she remembered her fall from her horse: pitching forward, putting her arms out to catch herself, one hand skidding in the mud, and the ugly, hot crunch in her neck.

Then blackness. And waking up to find herself surrounded by Cousins.

What had been abstract theory up until then had become very real. She could not die, save by Mirage’s hand. Or so she had thought.

“Kill us both?” she repeated, her voice a strangled whisper.

Satomi nodded grimly. “You are an abomination: one soul in two bodies. If you will not cooperate with us, we will kill both bodies. I will regret losing a witch of your potential talent, but you have turned your face to the darkness.”

The Void Prime had to be lying. Or did she? Miryo swallowed against the sick feeling in her gut and met Satomi’s pale green eyes squarely. She was damned if she’d let the woman know how afraid she was. “What you see as darkness, I see as light. I would not trade that for your way; I would not ‘return’ to your side even if you let me.”

“As you wish.” Satomi’s voice was as cold and sharp as a knife of ice. “You will be dealt with accordingly.”

“We continued to search, but found no tracks beyond that second wood,” the Cousin said. She stood at attention, arms stiff at her sides; her shame at her failure was written in the formality of her posture.

Satomi nodded. “And how many did you lose?”

“Two, Aken. One at the river, when her horse fell, and another when she was knocked off her horse and trampled.”

Twelve against three, and two Cousins had died. And only one capture to show for it. Satomi could not bring herself to rebuke the woman, though; two of the three had been Hunters, and one of them had the advantages that came with being a doppelganger. That did not excuse the Cousins’ failure, but it did much to explain it.

For the hundredth time, she wished she could be there to handle this in person. But she could not risk approaching the doppelganger so closely. None of them could.

“Keep Miryo drugged,” she said at last. “Her magic isn’t stable, but she may attempt to use it anyway. Bring her south to us as quickly as you can.”

“And the other?”

“Shimi-kane is tracking it now. We will contact you again when we have its location confirmed.”

The Cousin nodded. With a single note, Satomi ended the spell, and the woman’s image vanished from the mirror in front of her.

She sat for a moment, staring at her own reflection in the glass. One hand came up to brush back a few strands of her pale, fiery hair. No white in it yet; after the last half year she felt as though there should be. The discovery of Tari’s heresy had pained her deeply, bringing up long-buried memories of her own doppelganger. And that had been just the beginning of her problems.

Satomi truly wished that Miryo could be made to understand. She wished that for all the heretics, but Miryo above the others. The young woman showed so much promise; she was bright, and adaptable, and devoted. But she was also, in the end, flawed. She had come to believe whole-heartedly in the lies Tari had spawned, and she would not listen to reason. Satomi grieved that she must kill Miryo, but there was no choice. She could not place the survival of one talented young woman above the continuation of Starfall itself.

The alarm on her personal quarters tripped. Satomi composed her face, then rose and went to admit Shimi.

“It worked,” the Air Prime said. “The man is heading north, quite rapidly.”

Satomi studied her colleague closely. There was a glint in Shimi’s pale, cold eyes she did not like. Arinei had been upset over Tari’s betrayal, but that was nothing compared to Shimi’s fury when she learned that Ashin was a part of it, too. The Air Prime was furiously bent on seeing all of the heretics destroyed. Her goal was not wrong, but Satomi would have to watch her and make certain the woman did not carry it too far. This needed to be a careful bloodletting, not a bloodbath.

“And have you succeeded in spying him out?”

The Air Prime dropped her eyes. “No. Not yet.”

Of course not. None of them had seen him in person, and secondhand descriptions were nowhere near as helpful in directing spells. Again Satomi cursed the circumstances that kept them remote from the actual events.

Shimi didn’t seem worried. “I’m certain it’ll be with him. Our informant says they’re close friends, and they’ve been traveling together for some time. I doubt the doppelganger will have abandoned his side now, when it needs an ally.”

Satomi could only hope she was right. If the doppelganger had split off from the other Hunter, they would have a difficult time finding it. “Very well. Spell to Tsue and inform her. Have her send a detachment after him—no, more than a detachment. They’ll need to gather more of the Cousins in the area, if they’re going to take the doppelganger prisoner. The rest will bring Miryo south.”

Mirage watched from the shadows as several mounted figures rode out through the gates. She could not see them well, but they were almost certainly Cousins. It was dusk already; she wondered at their late departure. What moved them, that could not wait until morning?

When they were out of sight, she dismissed them from her mind. They might return, and she’d have to keep an eye out for that, but in the meantime, her concerns were with the ones still in the house.

The building in front of her was a large, dim bulk in the fading light. It belonged to Linea, the Lady of Abern; she retired there occasionally for foxhunting and parties. Now, however, it lay empty, and the Cousins had appropriated it for their own use.

A faint, almost imperceptible pull had drawn Mirage there, leading her on when the tracks she was following became too faint to trust. She suspected it was the same connection that had led Miryo to her. And it had brought her here, to the forested fringe around the house, but now it had failed her.

Not completely; she could tell that Miryo was in the house. But there was nothing beyond that. No sense of her double’s specific location.

Mirage gritted her teeth. Not good enough.

She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation she had been following. It was weak, and hard to pay attention to; it faded whenever she directed her attention to it, like a light so dim it only shone in peripheral vision. But Mirage was determined not to accept that. She concentrated on thoughts of Miryo: her appearance, her voice, the way she behaved. The ways in which she was different from Mirage. The strange feeling Mirage got every time she went to do something and found Miryo had done it already.

Give over, Void it. Where is she?

There.

Mirage’s eyes shot open. Western end of the house, top floor but below the attics. Not quite on the corner.

Now she just had to find a way in.

She hummed the way she had heard Miryo do, but felt nothing. Not surprising; it would have been too much to ask that she be able to sense any alarm spells. She’d have to walk in blind, and hope to outrun pursuit.

Wait. Think about that. There weren’t any witches there when you were ambushed. You’re lucky there weren’t; one spell and you would have been out of your saddle, on the ground next to Miryo. So if there weren’t any witches there, will there be any here?

That seemed downright stupid. Why not send a witch to help capture them? Miryo couldn’t cast reliable spells, but she could still wreak havoc trying. Why wouldn’t they send someone to deal with that?

“The doppelganger is anathema to us. It is destruction and oblivion, the undoing of all magic. It is the ruin of our work, and the bane of our being. It and our magic will never coexist, and its presence threatens all that our powers can do.”

She heard Miryo’s voice, recounting Misetsu’s words, as if her double were standing next to her. Mirage actually jumped, then made herself be still.

Could that be it? If I’m a danger to them, and to their magic... they may be afraid to put a witch anywhere near me.

If that’s the case, there may well not be one in the house.

She couldn’t be certain her logic was correct.

But does it matter?

Not really.

Mirage would go in after her double whether there was an alarm spell or not. She considered that, and found it acceptable. Stupid, but acceptable.

She stood there in the shadows for a moment longer. Exhaustion permeated her body; she’d driven herself hard to get here. Mist was in poor shape. Mirage was in worse.

But she had been even more worn down before, and she knew how to deal with it.

Mirage closed her eyes and went inside.

There was a place within her, one she had found years ago, when she first made the commitment to be more than an ordinary Temple Dancer. It had served her well during the extra training she put herself through. When she went to Silverfire, it was all that had kept her going during the days when the students gave her the worst they had, when the masters demanded more and faster progress from her, to prove her right to stay. There was a place inside where she could go and not feel pain or weariness, where she could put them aside and focus on the task before her. It was an internal emptiness, a clean space where all of that melted away. Mirage closed her eyes and found that place. She took three slow, deep breaths, and felt her exhaustion drop from her. Her muscles were loose, relaxed, but ready to leap into motion. She could be tired later. Right now, she had something she had to do.

Mirage opened her eyes and looked at the house. Miryo was in there.

She began to run.

The stable lay at the house’s southeastern corner, and the shadow of its wall made a good hiding place. Mirage cursed the weather for clearing; the moon was bright, and made sneaking in more difficult. But she had gotten this far without any sounds of alarm, and she thanked the Warrior for that.

Inside the stable, she made a quick count of horses. Five of them, all with Starfall’s markings. Did that mean five Cousins? They might have lost some horses along the way, either at the stream or in tripping over fallen bodies. Well, assume at least five. And hopefully not more than ten.

She left the stable and ghosted around its side, into the shadow of a huge tree. There weren’t many lights in the house, and most of them were clustered up near the top of the western end, where Miryo was being held. Unsurprising.

Still, there might be Cousins lurking elsewhere in the house; she couldn’t see the windows of the northern side. And Mirage didn’t relish the idea of wandering through the entire place, trying to find staircases to get her up to the top.

The answer was right in front of her—or rather, above her. The tree’s branches overhung the southern wing; they would give her an easy path to that roof. Then she could find a way to climb the wall of the main body of the house, and thus gain the roof. If nothing else, she could break in a window there; she’d at least be closer to her destination.

Mirage grasped the branches and swung herself up into the tree.

She landed, cat-soft, on the roof, and ran along it to the shadow of the higher section. Still no alarm. And there was a drainpipe, right in front of her, which led straight up, and looked sturdy enough to climb.

Lucky for me Linea’s not a fanatic about security.

The drainpipe took her up to the roof without trouble. She ran along its crest, staying as low as she could; all it would take was one Cousin outside and looking up to give her away. But she made it to the house’s western end, and slid carefully down to the edge that overhung the top-floor windows.

She could hear Miryo’s voice, muffled through the window. Mirage glanced down and scowled. Someone—probably one of the Cousins—had nailed the window shut. She could care less about Linea’s opinion of the modification, but it meant that getting into Miryo’s room would not be quick. And she couldn’t afford to be slow.

After a moment, she slid sideways, to the next window. It too had a light—both of the ones flanking Miryo’s did—but she could hear no voices.

Mirage lowered her head until she could peer in.

A woman was in there, sitting on the floor. Her back was to the window, which was encouraging; she was sharpening a sword, which was not. But she had left the window open a crack, and Mirage, eyeing the gap, calculated that she could get in quickly enough to take down the Cousin without a prolonged fight. She hoped.

Through the window, take her down. Then next door, hope there’s not more than one Cousin in there. If you’re lucky, it’ll go quietly enough that the others won’t know what’s happened.

If you’re not lucky—you’ll deal with it.

Mirage took a deep breath, held it, then expelled it slowly. She grasped the gutter, tested to be sure it would hold her weight, and then swung her legs down, placing her toes silently on the windowsill. The Cousin had not turned around. Mirage lowered one hand and grasped the window’s edge.

Then she yanked the window up and threw herself through.

The Cousin, to her credit, was on her feet almost instantly, but she was looking too high; Mirage rolled across the floor and surged upward, grabbing the woman’s sword hand. She kicked the Cousin’s feet out from under her and twisted the captive arm around as she did so. Her opponent fell to her knees without too much of a thump, and then Mirage cracked her over the head with the pommel of her own sword. The Cousin went limp.

One step down, lots to go.

Mirage lowered the body to the floor and tossed the sword under the bed, where it wouldn’t be found immediately if someone wanted to use it.

Next door, someone began to sing.

At least they were feeding her. Miryo had wondered if they would, when night fell and no food came. But a Cousin had finally appeared, bearing a tray with bread and a bowl of soup. No fork, knife, or spoon.

As if I could threaten anyone with them.

The Cousin watched her as she ate. She had not drawn her short sword, but one hand rested on the pommel. Miryo did her best to ignore her guard, but it made eating difficult.

Finally she broke the silence. “What’s your name?”

A suspicious look from her guard.

Miryo held up her hands. “I’m just wondering.”

The Cousin considered that for far too long. Finally she opened her mouth to let out one word. “Tsue.”

“Tsue. Thank you.” Miryo sopped a piece of bread in her soup and ate it. “Tsue, how many Cousins died in the ambush?”

The woman’s eyes hardened.

“I had hoped none,” Miryo said quietly. “I don’t have anything against you. You’re just doing your job, and I’m just doing what I think is right. But I take it that someone did die.”

At last she got a grudging nod. “Two.”

“Their names?”

“Yun and Gau.” Tsue’s jaw tensed. “One at the stream. The other in the chase.”

Meaning that Mirage had killed her. “I’m sorry. I can promise you that Mirage—my doppelganger—didn’t deliberately target her. She doesn’t kill unless she has to.”

No response to that. Miryo finished her meal in silence and waited for Tsue to remove the bowl and tray.

The Cousin, however, stayed motionless. Finally, after an excruciating pause, she reached into her belt pouch and removed a small flask. “You must drink this. By the order of the Primes. I almost put it in your food, but…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, but Miryo could guess, and she was grateful for Tsue’s honor. “What is it?”

“A sleeping drug.”

Not a poison, then, although Miryo hadn’t thought it would be. “It’s not necessary.”

“The Primes have ordered it.”

“Tsue, what am I going to do? Overpower you all single-handedly? As if I could. You could take me down in your sleep. And as for my magic…” She snorted. “I might as well kill myself on the spot and save the trouble.”

Tsue didn’t look forgiving.

“All right. What if I gave you my sworn word I will not attempt to cast any spells?”

The Cousin shook her head. “The Primes have ordered it.”

What a good little drone you are. Miryo sighed and closed her eyes. She could see the path all too well: she would be drugged and taken to Starfall, tied to her saddle. They’d revive her enough to eat, but she’d be dosed again before she could get too lucid. Once they got that potion inside her; her odds of escape went to nil.

Unless, of course, Mirage came after her. Ever since the confrontation with Satomi, Miryo had half hoped her doppelganger would stay away. It wasn’t likely, though. Which meant mat Mirage would probably be captured as well.

Fine. Then you do something about it. Now.

She had offered to give her sworn word, but she hadn’t actually done it.

Miryo opened her eyes and gave Tsue the most sincere look she could manage. “May I have just a moment, before I drink it? I’d like to pray.”

The Cousin gave her a long, searching look, and finally nodded. She took a step back—just one—and waited.

Void it. I was hoping she’d leave the room.

Miryo, robbed of the privacy she’d hoped for, turned and went to the window. Outside she could see the moonlit ground, but not the moon itself; that was on the other side of the house. She looked through the panes of the glass at the sky, envisioned the stars there, and closed her eyes.

Here goes nothing.

Miryo began to sing.

She kept it as quiet as she could; her hands, clasped near her mouth, helped muffle the sound. She got a good distance into the spell before Tsue realized something was happening.

“What are you doing?” the Cousin snapped, stepping forward.

The game was up. Miryo spun to face Tsue, singing full-voice now; as the Cousin lunged at her she dodged. It was a ridiculous chase, trying to keep out of Tsue’s hands while fighting to control the power. No, not to control it; that was beyond her. She just had to direct it, to make certain that someone else—Tsue—took the brunt of its force.

The power built to a crescendo, and Miryo realized she had no idea what it was going to do.

Through the roaring in her head, she saw the door fly inward hard enough to rebound off the wall. And there, so suddenly and unexpectedly Miryo almost didn’t believe her eyes, was Mirage.

One instant her doppelganger was in the doorway; the next, she twisted and threw herself violently to the floor. And even as she did so, the energy of Miryo’s spell broke its bounds and shot outward in an expanding ring of razor-edged fire.

Tsue had only begun to scream when it hit her.

The world swam around Miryo. Blackness threatened at the edges of her vision. She took deep gulps of air, reaching out for something to steady herself; there was nothing nearby, and then suddenly Mirage had an arm around her, holding her up.

“Warrior’s teeth,” her doppelganger swore, looking around the room.

Miryo’s vision was clearing. All around, at chest-height, there was a band of destruction. Her spell had ripped into the walls, and through them; the ragged edges were dancing with rapidly spreading fire.

She forced herself to look to her left.

Tsue’s body had suffered the same fate as the walls. The spell had caught her squarely, and had ripped her upper body apart.

“This place is going to be covered in fire and Cousins in about half a second,” Mirage said.

Miryo complied numbly as her doppelganger dragged her toward the door. They made it to the hallway, and stopped there.

Two Cousins in the room to one side had been coming to investigate the noise. They had gotten no farther than the doorway; the spell had caught them there. As far as Miryo could see in either direction, the energy had torn through the doors and walls. She wondered how far the destruction stretched.

“Not this way,” Mirage muttered, eyeing the growing flames. She pivoted and dragged Miryo into the other neighboring room.

For a moment Miryo thought the body on the floor in there was also her doing. But this woman, she saw, was intact, and still alive.

“Can you climb?” Mirage asked.

Miryo swallowed the urge to laugh hysterically. “Yes.”

“Out the window and onto the roof. If you go to the eastern end, there’s a drainpipe that will take you down to the southern wing. From there you can climb the tree down to the ground.”

“What about you?”

Mirage nodded at the unconscious Cousin. “I’ve got to take care of her.”

As she went to the window, Miryo saw what her doppelganger meant; Mirage had pulled a thin rope out of somewhere in her clothing and was knotting a harness out of it She glanced up and scowled at Miryo, standing there. Only then did Miryo realize Mirage was wearing her uniform, but without the mask. Her pale skin looked even whiter against the black. Almost as pale as Miryo herself felt.

“Move!”

She moved. Miryo leaned out the open window and saw that it would be no trouble at all to get to the roof. At least, it wouldn’t have been trouble under normal circumstances; now, however, her hands were shaking, and her vision was fogging, and she couldn’t forget the sight of the fallen Cousins.

“Fallen?” Say it. They’re dead.

Miryo took a deep breath and climbed out the window.

She made it to the roof without losing her grip. Below, she saw Mirage pushing the Cousin’s limp body out the window; Miryo hoped the rope was long enough to reach the ground.

Then she turned her face away and climbed.

Linea’s manor house was simple compared to Starfall. The roof was too steeply pitched for Miryo to stand on, so she pulled herself up to the ridge and began to walk along tee, one slow, unsteady step at a time.

There are at least three Cousins still alive in that house. And they’re probably looking for you.

Miryo ran.

She didn’t allow herself to think about it; she just focused on the far end and started running. Later, the memory would terrify her, but now she simply did it and ignored the risk of falling. When her foot finally slipped, she was already above the southern wing. She turned the slip into a slide down onto one of the attic window gables, and from there went farther down to the edge of the roof itself.

The drainpipe was there, as Mirage had promised. Miryo glanced back and saw, to her relief, that her doppelganger was following. Then she swung her legs over the edge and began to climb down.

The house was well and truly on fire by the time they reached the ground. Mirage pointed, and Miryo saw several figures emerging from the house’s main door. “They’ll find the other Cousin,” Mirage said. “Let’s get horses and go.”

They went into the stable and stole two horses. Mist, Mirage said, was in the woods, but was worn out from a hard ride. They would pick the mare up and bring her along without a rider.

“What about the other horses?” Miryo asked.

“I cut their saddle girths. Move, Void it.”

With the last of the momentum she’d gained on the roof, she pulled herself into the saddle and let Mirage lead her away from the blazing house.