Warrior and Witch (11 page)
Mirei forgot to allow for saddle sores.
She’d spent the last five years of her life on the road, moving from place to place as an itinerant Hunter, usually alone. So she made her usual calculations of travel time: four days to Angrim from Silverfire, and then nine days or so to Starfall, barring weather.
She forgot to allow for eleven-year-old girls.
To be fair, Amas and Indera did their best, and didn’t complain. But what Mirei thought of as a solid traveling pace was brutal to them, and they simply couldn’t last an entire day on horseback. Their training included daily trail-riding to toughen them up, but they weren’t anywhere near ready for Mirei’s pace. She had to slow down, take breaks, stop early, and try not to worry about how long it was taking them to reach Angrim.
Mindful of her promise to Jaguar, Mirei worked on teaching them things as they rode. Unfortunately, she hadn’t the faintest idea what first-year trainees were supposed to learn.
Jaguar had decided, back when Tari-nakana convinced him to take Mirage in at the ripe old age of thirteen, to throw her in with the trainees who were of an age to be her year-mates, rather than putting her with the first-years. It had been a grueling experience for her, trying to catch up on everything she had not learned in her apprenticeship as a
that
, she was tough enough that she deserved to stay.
But at the age Amas and Indera were now, Mirei had been in the
Horse care, certainly, because she wasn’t going to handle all three mounts herself. How to sleep outside as comfortably as could be arranged; Mirei had some coin, but Askavyan peasant women did not, and she wasn’t about to abandon the disguise that so usefully hid their red heads and cropped hair. Edible wildlife, coupled with the things that one would not want to eat oneself, but which might be useful against others. Indera already knew some of those from helping her mother. Other elements of surviving the traveling life.
And, of course, fighting.
Even raw from riding, Indera was wild to learn from her hero. Her young face showed echoes of her true mother’s high-boned features; when she set herself to practice, some of Ashin’s intensity came through. Amas was less vocal than her year-mate, but the wiry girl took everything Mirei cared to give her without a hint of reluctance. Which left Mirei having to figure out just how to teach something that had always come very naturally to her.
It came naturally to the doppelgangers, as well. That was part of
being
a doppelganger, being the Warrior aspect of a soul. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t benefit from a systematic method of learning. Mirei had to delve back into her memories of her earliest days at Silverfire to figure out what they should do.
She gave them this much credit: they didn’t complain. Much. “
Slowly
,” Mirei said late one afternoon, in the daisy-strewn meadow where she’d taken them to practice. If they couldn’t use all the hours riding, then she would use them for something else. “Slow makes you work on your balance as well as your form. Start in stance—pivot—tuck your leg—
slow
!” she barked as Indera began to kick outward at speed. Amas had a talent for kicks, with her long legs, but Indera needed work. “Slow extension means you’ll think about your line, your aim, whether or not you’re keeping your guard up. Again. Pivot—tuck—extend—now bring your leg back in, your body back up. Now the other side.”
Indera lurched slightly on the next kick. Out of stance, she scuffed at the grass with one toe. “Sorry. The ground’s rough here.”
“You think you’re going to be doing all your fights on the practice room floor?”
The trainee flinched at the snap in Mirei’s voice. “No.” Without another word, she went back to the exercise.
It was good for them, making them think about form and precision, even when their butts and thighs had been pounded into jelly by hours in the saddle. And it saved Mirei from having to do anything other than watch and critique, which meant they had no chance to find out that their reflexes were better than hers. Mirei could beat them easily, even both together, but her reflexes had been legend; she didn’t want the questions that would arise from her slower movements.
So many pitfalls she had to avoid. And so many things she would rather be doing—like finding out what had happened to Eclipse.
When she wasn’t teaching, she asked questions about them both. Subtle ones, wandering to many side topics she didn’t much care about, but she got the information she wanted in the end. Neither of the girls had the slightest real clue that their supposed parents were not their own. However Tari and Ashin and the rest had gone about placing the doppelgangers with false families, they’d done a much more delicate job of it than whoever had spirited the infant Mirage out of Starfall. Seniade, as her foster parents had named her, had known from a very young age that she was a foundling, and not just because of her flaming red hair. Amas and Indera believed in the lies they’d lived.
She was not looking forward to destroying those lies.
She couldn’t put it off forever, of course. She would tell them the truth as soon as the two doppelgangers in Angrim were secured. And then she could get an escort of witches and Cousins, take them to Starfall, and go back to helping Satomi figure out how Void magic worked and what repercussions this would have on the witches’ way of life. While Amas and Indera and the other two met, for the first time, the other halves of their souls.
Once she was done in Angrim.
Taking the doppelgangers into Angrim would be idiocy. There were two Hunter schools on the outskirts of Abern’s capital, Windblade and Thornblood, and they didn’t like each other much; the city, lying between them as it did, was a hornet’s nest of spies. They kept an eye on each other—several legions of eyes, actually—and then others kept eyes on
them
. Other Hunter schools; Lady Linea, Abern’s ruler; even the witches had some people there.
Mirei met with substantial resistance, though, when she tried to tell Amas and Indera to stay behind.
“We’re Hunters, too,” Indera said stubbornly. “We know how to be subtle. We won’t cause trouble.”
“You’re
trainees
, and you’re staying here.” Mirei silenced further protests with a glare. “This isn’t negotiable. You do what I tell you to, when I tell you, or you regret it. Understand?”
Indera nodded unwillingly. Amas merely watched the whole exchange.
I’m going to have to be careful of that one
, Mirei thought, casting a swift glance at the silent trainee.
She’s been watching me this whole trip, all seven Void-damned days of it. Keeping her own counsel. Weighing what I say. Got to be careful of her, when I finally tell them what’s going on. She may not take it well
.
She stashed the two girls in a Silverfire bolt-hole east of the sprawling edge of Angrim. It wasn’t exactly a secret place—she had no doubt both Windblade and Thornblood knew of its existence—but for a short stay, it should be all right. She had every intention of getting in and getting out as fast as humanly possible.
Nevermind that she still hadn’t decided what to do about kidnapping someone out of Thornblood.
Mirei got Amas and Indera settled, then went out to where her borrowed gelding was tethered. “Don’t even think about it,” she said as she checked over her tack, not bothering to look back at the door of the “abandoned” farmhouse. The startled scuffling noise she heard was answer enough. “Follow me, and I’ll flay the skin off your back. Understand me?”
“Yes,” Indera called back, half-meekly, half-sullenly.
“If I’m not back by nightfall, feed yourselves. Bread and jerky only. Don’t go scrounging, don’t light a fire. If I’m not back by morning—” Mirei hesitated. What
should
they do, if this went wrong? “Then ride back to Silverfire, as hard as you can. I don’t care if your legs are bleeding pieces of meat by the end, just get there as fast as possible. Got it?”
“Yes,” came the answer again, this time in a chorus of Amas and Indera.
Mirei mounted up and rode west without another word.
The day was barely half spent, and alone, Mirei could set as hard a pace as she wanted. She didn’t gallop; that would only draw attention. But she rode fast, wanting to finish this and get back to the bolt-hole before her charges found something stupid to do.
Windblade was on the southern side of the city. Mirei went there first. Jaguar had promised to send pigeons ahead; Silverfire and Windblade were friendly with each other, as Hunter schools went, and in particular he had a good relationship with the Grandmaster of Windblade, with whom he had once cooperated on a major commission. If all had gone well, he had smoothed the way for her.
Unlike Silverfire, half a day’s ride from the small town of Elensk and therefore protected by isolation, Windblade was heavily fortified. Jaguar had guaranteed that he could at least get them to let her in. Which was good, since Mirei was
not
going to attempt to translocate blindly into an unfamiliar place. If she ended up needing to sneak into Thornblood, she’d have to do it more slowly.
The main gate of the compound was a massive thing, two iron-banded oak doors wide enough to allow a large cart through. The guard kept watch from the allure above, and challenged Mirei as she rode close. “Halt. State your name and business.”
Mirei pulled off her head scarf. She wore her Hunter’s uniform underneath the disguise, and she was sweltering in the heat; a part of her hoped the guard would demand more evidence, so she could remove a few layers. “Mirage of Silverfire,” she said, remembering at the last instant not to give the wrong name, and to disguise her trained witch’s tones. “My Grandmaster should have sent a message in advance. I have business with
your
Grandmaster.”
Red hair came in handy for once. To his credit, though, the guard didn’t take it as sufficient proof. He delved about for a moment in a case clipped to his belt, then produced a piece of thin rice paper that looked, from what Mirei could see of it, like a sketch. Clearly they, like Silverfire, kept information on other Hunters, and had informed the gate guards she would be coming. After a moment of comparing the sketch to her face, he nodded. “Right. Wait there.”
He turned and gestured to someone on the other side of the wall, then took up his post again, eyes on the road, but keeping peripheral watch on Mirei. A few minutes later, a small side gate swung open. The opening ran at an awkward angle through the wall, and was narrow and low enough that Mirei had to dismount and lead her reluctant horse through. If it ever came to an outright attack against Windblade’s compound, no one would find this a convenient entrance.
Two people awaited her on the far side. One, a young trainee, took her horse to a nearby stable. The other was an adult Hunter, who checked Mirei swiftly but thoroughly for weapons, then indicated she should follow him.
Never before had she set foot in another school’s compound. She kept her eyes mostly on her guide’s back, so as not to seem unduly curious, but noted down details out of her peripheral vision. Windblade’s buildings were packed more closely together than Silverfire’s, limited by the walls that demarcated the compound; she saw few open spaces, and surmised those must be toward the back. After all, the trainees would need somewhere to ride, and to practice the archery their school was famous for. The structures, though, were built more of wood than of stone, and had larger windows with shutters thrown open in hopes of a cooling breeze. Winters were kinder here.
The building she was led to looked more defensible. The Hunter leading her knocked on the outside door in what sounded like a specific pattern, waited for a call from within, and then opened it with a wave for Mirei to precede him.
There were three people inside, two men and a woman, all in Hunter clothes. Both of the men stared at Mirei in startlement. “What are you doing here?” the younger of the two snapped, voice harsh with suspicion.
Mirei saluted the whole group. The older man, wide as a barn door and twice as thick, was probably the Grandmaster, but she wasn’t sure. Better to be polite, in a situation like this. “I’m Mirage of Silverfire. Jaguar, I believe, has sent a message about one of your trainees.”
The younger man dropped the papers he was holding and walked up to her where she stood, just inside the room. Her guide had closed the door and was standing behind her; without looking, Mirei knew his posture had shifted to readiness.
This might be about to go very bad
.
The man spoke with sharp, hostile clarity. “You took her with you yesterday.”
Damn it. I hate being right.
Mirei made an instant decision
not
to try and control her expression. It helped; the clear shock and dismay on her face sent some of the tension out of the man’s shoulders. “A witch,” she whispered through her clenched teeth. Shimi, or an ally of hers? “Damn it to
Void
!”
“How do we know
you’re
not the witch?” the woman said, rising from her seat. She did not come near, and her hand hovered in a way that told Mirei there was a knife sheathed at the small of her back.
