Witch

by Marie Brennan

  Another silence reigned, until Nae broke it.

  “Four girls, one boy,” she said. “We will arrange it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  IN THE QUIET, snowy darkness of Kalistyi’s western mountains, two figures suddenly appeared.

  Mirei fell to her knees, retching, shaking, trying not to make any noise. Warrior’s mercy—Warrior’s complete lack of mercy—Goddess, please tell me I’ll recover if I rest.

  She got over the nausea enough to see Urishin removing the gag from her own mouth. Mirei wasn’t certain how the unrestored witch-half of a pair would react to being moved through the Void, so on the chance that she would suffer the effects an ordinary witch did, she’d gagged the girl. But Urishin looked fine—if suspiciously bright-eyed.

  Instinct alerted Mirei. “Don’t,” she whispered, reaching one trembling hand out toward the girl. “Don’t do it.”

  Urishin took a deep, ragged breath, and the gleam in her eyes faded.

  Mirei could sympathize with what Urishin was feeling. Immediately after the test, the world looked different; she was aware of power everywhere, inherent in the world around her. Resisting the urge to reach out to it was not easy, especially when someone else cast spells.

  That was why they were here tonight.

  The Primes and the leaders of the Cousins were ensconced in the council room at Starfall, planning a full-blown action against the stronghold outside Garechnya. Mirei wholeheartedly supported this, but one thing could not wait for their plans to be completed, and that was Naspeth.

  Shimi and Arinei would know what had happened to her. If they were smart—and so far they had not obliged anyone by being stupid—they would move Naspeth somewhere else. It wouldn’t keep their stronghold safe, not with the help from the Cousins, but they didn’t know that, and it would mean all the information on this place’s defenses would be useless in rescuing the doppelganger. And time was on the dissidents’ side. All they had to do was keep the two apart for long enough, and Urishin’s magic would kill them both.

  She’d said all this to Satomi.

  The Void Prime had told her to wait.

  Mirei remembered very distinctly the fight she’d had with Satomi when she came back to Starfall from Angrim. She knew she had responsibilities. But she also knew that the time to go after Naspeth was now, right after Urishin’s test, before the dissidents had time to make plans. A quick mission, in and out—exactly the kind of thing she’d been trained as a Hunter to do. She had the skills and the supplies to pull this off. The full-blown strike had to wait for preparation; the rescue of Naspeth could not afford to.

  Urishin stood shivering in the snow while Mirei pulled herself together. Only one more of these, she reminded herself. Jump back to Starfall, and you’re done. For a while, anyway.

  With luck, they might even be able to get the rest of the doppelgangers—not just the one.

  Mirei wondered what that would do to her. The strain on her was stronger the more bodies she moved; the worst so far had been Ashin and Kekkai. Could she move four people besides herself? They were small people; maybe that would count for something.

  I’ll manage if it kills me.

  She tried not to think about that.

  To Urishin’s credit, the girl didn’t stand idly by while waiting. When Mirei finally pushed herself to her feet, brushing snow off the knees of the Hunter uniform she wore beneath her fur cloak, Urishin pointed off through the trees. “That way.”

  Mirei’s original plan, before the message from Eclipse and the arrival of the Cousins, had been to use Urishin for broad triangulation. That had only been because she couldn’t be more precise. With the description Rin had given her, she’d jumped much closer. They were far enough from the stronghold that their arrival wouldn’t be noticed, but near enough to strike. And Urishin could guide her from here.

  They moved off, snow muffling the sound of Urishin’s footsteps. The girl wasn’t bad; she’d been spending time with the doppelgangers at Starfall. At last they sighted lights, and Mirei paused.

  “Wait here,” she told Urishin, and continued on alone.

  Garechnya itself lay somewhere nearby, but another, smaller town had sprung up in this sheltered valley to accommodate the exiles. Witches, Cousins, and soldiers lent by Lady Chaha, according to Rin and the reports from Eclipse. The guard on the area wasn’t trivial, but she didn’t have to penetrate it just yet; Rin had set up ways to contact the loyal Cousins among the dissidents. Mirei wondered whether the woman had suspected her intention of coming out here alone. Perhaps.

  A broken pine stood just next to a large, flat-topped granite boulder. Mirei placed a spray of pine needles on the stone, then retreated.

  With Urishin in tow once more, she found a clump of holly bushes thick enough to hide behind. Once concealed, Mirei turned to Urishin. “All right. Reach for her again.”

  Urishin closed her eyes for a long moment. Then she opened them and shook her head, looking unhappy. “That way.” She pointed toward the settlement. “But I don’t know where.”

  Mirei was afraid she was telling the truth. When Miryo had come to Angrim, she’d known Mirage was in the city, but nothing more. Directionality faded at close range. Mirage had pushed past that, once, but only after knowing Miryo for a while, and she’d done it by focusing on the things that made Miryo distinct from her. Urishin and Naspeth had never met.

  But she couldn’t accept that this time. “Close your eyes again,” Mirei said. “Deep breath. Meditate like I taught you.” She waited while Urishin obeyed. “Naspeth,” she said softly, when the girl seemed ready. “Your other half. You are the Maiden, the Bride, the Mother, the Crone. She is the Warrior. You are Fire, Air, Water, Earth. She is the Void. Reach for her. Feel her. You two are connected. Follow that link. Which way does it lead?”

  The winter silence stretched out. Mirei hardly dared breathe.

  Then, as if of its own accord, Urishin’s arm rose to point. This time it aimed, not at the main body of the settlement, but off to one side.

  “Hold that,” Mirei whispered, and waited.

  It was a cold wait, but eventually a heavily bundled woman appeared, scouring the area for firewood, though it had largely been picked clean. From behind the holly bushes, Mirei mimicked the call of a cardinal.

  The woman stopped. “Friends to Misetsu?”

  “Misetsu made mistakes,” Mirei said. The pass phrases the Cousins had chosen were . . . interesting.

  The woman didn’t approach them. “What do you need?”

  “A diversion,” Mirei said. “South end.”

  “How big?”

  “Enough to draw guards away from where the children are kept.”

  The Cousin’s face went tight. “Dangerous.”

  “Necessary,” Mirei said. “We have to get the girls out if possible. Can you do it?”

  The Cousin hesitated. At Mirei’s side, Urishin was breathing slowly and evenly, maintaining the trance that pointed the way to her doppelganger.

  “Yes,” the Cousin said at last. “If this is the time.”

  “It is,” Mirei told her softly. It had better be.

  With a nod, the woman said, “Then wait here. You’ll know when to move.”

  She vanished into the snow, leaving Mirei with Urishin.

  THE DIVERSION, when it came, consisted of lighting a horse barn on fire.

  It’ll do, Mirei thought grimly, wishing that the Cousin had been a little more creative. Certainly some people would be involved in getting the horses out, and in making sure the fire didn’t spread from the barn to the thatched roofs of the neighboring buildings. It wasn’t very effective, though, and it looked too much like a diversion.

  But if that was what she had to work with, she’d do it. Mirei took Urishin by the hands and led the girl out of the holly thicket.

  They had just reached the outermost buildings, sitting on the slopes of the valley, when the rest of the diversion kicked in.

  Mirei couldn�
�t even quite be sure what was going on. All she could make out, at this distance and with only firelight to illuminate it, was that some kind of armed attack was underway on the far side of the valley. Some distance from the fire, but well away from the direction Mirei and Urishin were headed in.

  Precisely calibrated to look like the fire was a diversion for that.

  Mirei took back her unkind thoughts about the woman’s creativity and began to move faster.

  The town was beginning to swarm like a hornet’s nest. Deep in her trance, Urishin continued to point when told, in a decidedly creepy way. Mirei took her direction, marked the buildings that were along its path, and then circled around the outer edge of the town. It kept them away from the people now swarming out of the buildings, and let her triangulate. Urishin seemed to be pointing at a one-story building that looked like some manner of barracks.

  Let’s hope the soldiers are busy outside.

  Snatches of song were rising from the chaos at the other end; there was enough magic being flung around that Mirei could feel it even at this distance. She shot a quick, worried glance at Urishin, but the girl showed no sign of reaching for power. Still, Mirei moved faster. The sooner they got out of here, the better.

  Urishin continued to point, unerringly—at least Mirei hoped unerringly—at the barracks building.

  Hiding in the shadows of a storehouse’s steeply canted roof, Mirei eyed her target. At a guess, the main door would take her into an antechamber where people could remove their snow-covered outer garments. Beyond it would be a mess hall. She’d seen the type before.

  Urishin was pointing straight in. Not to the side. Probably at the mess hall, then.

  I don’t like this.

  She especially didn’t like the idea of taking Urishin in with her. But the alternative was leaving the girl here, or sending her back out into the woods alone, and both of those options were worse.

  Mirei took a deep breath. I’ll just have to be ready. If there’s trouble, I’ll sing us out as fast as I can.

  “Come on,” she whispered to Urishin, and together they ran across the intervening space.

  Through the door, and yes, there was an antechamber, and then through that into the mess hall behind—

  The girls were in there.

  So were other people.

  Clapping one hand over Urishin’s eyes and closing her own, Mirei threw down a small ceramic container. It shattered on the floor, and the resulting flash of light bought them an instant of time, at least. Time enough for her to realize what she’d seen in there, and to make a decision.

  But Urishin, without warning, began to sing.

  Mirei flowed into motion. Blades out, she sliced into the two Cousins who had been waiting by the door; blinded as they were, they both went down easily. But that wasn’t Mirei’s real aim. Weaving body and voice together, she built a spell, reaching frantically for power around the rippling chaos of Urishin’s naive, untrained, uncontrolled attempt to help, Oh please Goddess don’t let her kill herself this has got to work PLEASE—

  With a wrenching effort that felt like it ripped her own body apart, Mirei slid through Urishin’s spell, seized four bodies, and flung them through the Void.

  Leaving herself behind.

  THE AFTERMATH of Urishin’s attempted magic rattled the walls, splintered tables into kindling, and sent everyone stumbling back.

  Mirei collapsed to the floor, retching helplessly, hardly even alert enough to hope that she had just succeeded at getting the girls out of harm’s way—even if she hadn’t moved herself.

  Got to get up got to get up she’s here I have to get up—

  She felt blows landing on her body, boots hitting her ribs, people attacking her who didn’t realize she wasn’t in any state to be a threat at the moment. Then a voice spoke sharply, cutting them off.

  In the quiet, the voice spoke again, and she recognized it.

  “You’ve achieved nothing. They’re still going to die.”

  Footsteps on the wooden boards as Shimi came forward. But not too close. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. Mirei writhed on the floor, too weak to rise.

  Void-damned trap no guards outside she wanted me to come in and used them as bait—

  “Your unnatural magic won’t save them. Starfall isn’t safe. Arinei has seen to that.”

  What would have been a laugh turned into a gut-wrenching fit of coughing, which was probably just as well. Good thing I accidentally sent them elsewhere, you bitch.

  Goddess, please tell me it worked.

  And then, penetrating the fog of her disorientation—

  Starfall isn’t safe?

  Hands on her, taking away her weapons, wrenching her arms behind her back, yanking her more or less upright. Mirei’s vision cleared to reveal Shimi standing before her.

  The intervening time hadn’t been kind to the former Air Prime. Lines scored her face, which had gone even thinner and harder than before. She looked exhausted. But her pale eyes burned with energy enough to keep her going, and hatred enough to kill Mirei where she knelt.

  “You are a monster,” Shimi hissed, literally spitting the words in Mirei’s face. “A taint on the face of the Goddess’s creation. An abomination in her eyes. You serve your twisted Warrior and cloak it in piety, you—”

  Mirei gathered enough strength to cut her off. “Do you think you’re going to convert me, Shimi? Save the theology lecture and just kill me already.”

  And when the former Prime’s face contorted in rage, Mirei ripped herself free of the Cousin’s grasp and threw herself forward.

  She didn’t have the blindest idea what she thought she would accomplish, other than knocking Shimi down. Not with other Cousins in the room. There would be no escape, no wending her way back through the chaos of the town to the cold woods outside, and she couldn’t hope to jump by magic. She doubted she could manage even the simplest spell at the moment.

  But if she could find a way to kill Shimi, then as the Warrior was her witness, she was going to do it.

  They crashed to the floor, and as Mirei grappled with the woman, she heard shouts, thumps, a scream of pain. Not from Shimi. Mirei rammed with knees and elbows, twisting, scratching, yanking at the Prime’s hair, anything to prevent a spell, and then another body fell on top of them, and she realized that something else was happening in the room.

  She turned her head to look, and Shimi, by accident or design, slammed an elbow into her head.

  Mirei’s grip slackened, and the woman slipped free. But when the stars faded from her vision, she saw bodies on the floor—Cousins, fallen in bloody pools amongst splintered wood—and someone else.

  Eclipse.

  The Hunter stood, reddened blades in his hands, and he was staring at her in stark horror. Blood dripped from his right fist down to the floor—not dripped, poured. It grew stronger as she watched, as if some wound were opening up beneath the sleeve of his uniform.

  Singing. Shimi was casting a spell. Pivoting where he stood, Eclipse threw his knife, and the tune died off in a vicious curse.

  Mirei grabbed the edge of a nearby table and hauled herself to her feet, holding on desperately so she wouldn’t collapse.

  “Mirei,” Eclipse said in a painful mimicry of a conversational tone. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Eclipse,” she whispered. Her eyes were on Shimi, who was pulling a knife from her thigh. Bad aim, she thought irrationally. He needs to practice.

  He needs to not be bleeding.

  “Just came to kill her,” he went on, nodding at the witch. “Figured if I was going to die, I might as well try. What did I have to lose? Got some help along the way. Nice women, they were. Cousins.” His voice was wandering, fading. With a shocking clatter, his sword slipped from his fingers and hit the floor. Mirei’s heart lurched. Eclipse would never drop his sword.

  He’s dying.

  Shimi opened her mouth to sing again.

  Weaponless, Mirei flung herself forward on
ce more, across the intervening space and at the woman who had, through her manipulations, killed the person dearest to her in the world.

  The stiffened edge of her hand struck Shimi in the throat, crushing the woman’s windpipe two syllables into the spell.

  She knew, as she did it, that this was the moment to try. Offer Shimi’s life up to the Warrior, in exchange for Eclipse. It might work. It was the only thing that could, now. She had no other way to save him.

  But she wouldn’t make that trade.

  She struck to kill, but not in sacrifice. She killed Shimi because of all the damage the woman had wrought, the other lives wasted besides Eclipse’s. Falya and Yimoe, Chaiban and Serri, little Chanka and Anness. Sharyo, dead at Indera’s hand. Ashin. She killed Shimi because the woman had perverted so many of their ways, splintering Starfall, warping the blood-oath, murdering children for her cause. A trial would condemn her to death, but Mirei lacked the strength to take her back for one, and if she didn’t kill Shimi then Shimi would kill her.

  But she would not offer the woman’s life to the Warrior, because it wasn’t hers to give.

  She killed Shimi, and knew she had lost Eclipse as well.

  Three bodies hit the floor at once. Shimi convulsed, clawing at her throat, choking to death. Mirei rolled free of her, dizzy, and crawled across to where Eclipse had fallen.

  He was white with blood loss. Mirei clamped her hand over the oath-scar on his wrist, but it did no good. Nothing would stop him bleeding; even if she could manage a healing spell, it wouldn’t make a difference. She could not save him.

  He managed a shaky smile. “It would’ve killed me anyway, even if you weren’t here. Guess I’m glad you are. Get to say good-bye.”

  She stared down at him, seeing him with two gazes, two sets of memories overlapping. To Mirage he was so familiar, so loved, but too close to be seen as anything other than a brother. To Miryo, he was a newcomer in her life, but valued and trusted—a friend—because Mirage had always trusted him.

  Both at once. Familiar and not. Too close and too far. In between them, in the blending of her memories, a middle ground. She would have explored it, given time, and she knew he would have, too.