“I could . . .” He trailed off and let out a long breath. Then he shook his head, pulling her close. “Damn it, Celeste. I thought that you were . . . just, damn it, woman, I thought I’d lost you.”
“Me too,” she whispered. “It’s not every day that I fall off a mountain.”
Twice.
She leaned her head on his chest and wrapped her arms about his waist. His heartbeat was a comforting rhythm beneath her ear. That was the only thing that kept me going. Knowing you’d find me. She hadn’t dared speak her hope aloud, but she’d known if it came down to it, Mikani would use his ability to search, as he’d done for the murderer in the tunnels even though it hurt him. She was rather amazed to find him still upright after that much exertion. Usually, he’d have taken something and passed out by now.
“And you bloody well better not make a habit out of it.” Mikani guided her to the bed, nudged her into sitting as he came to his knees in front of her. He took her hands, as if afraid to let her go just yet. “I’m sorry we didn’t come back right away. I thought we could lead the elementals off and bring back help, but the villagers wouldn’t budge until morning.”
The tone rang, soft, but enough to alert her. “That’s not entirely true, is it? You thought we might be dead.”
He dropped his gaze. “We saw the boulder crash down on you. And we heard you fall . . . so yes, the thought did occur to me.”
She pulled her hands back, folding them neatly in her lap. “I suppose you did as you felt was best.”
Though it might be illogical, but hearing the truth hurt. He left. Not knowing if I was alive or dead. He just left. She didn’t know if she’d be able to make the same decision, regardless of its prudence. It was impossible not to wonder if he’d have abandoned Miss Braelan.
She pushed to her feet and moved to the door. “It’d be wise if I got some rest, Mikani.”
“I’m sorry.” He stood, stepped out, and pulled the door behind him, closing it hard enough to jar the frame.
Right. Like you have any reason to be angry.
Ritsuko took her own advice and lay down, though it was a long time before she slept. For the evening meal, she took a bowl of soup in her room because she didn’t feel like talking. And just before she was about to go back to bed for the night, she had another caller.
This time, it was Irahi, wound in bandages. “May I come in?”
“Certainly.” She stepped back to allow him access.
Her room wasn’t set up for socializing, but the doctor didn’t seem to mind. His expression became professional as he skimmed her from head to toe. “You don’t seem too much the worse for the wear after our adventure.”
That word surprised a laugh out of her. “I’ll live.”
“You were missed at dinner.”
That was sweet, but the idea of being sociable had seemed intolerable. “I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I’ll be up to speed tomorrow.”
“I just wanted to be sure you weren’t injured worse than you let on. It seemed like you were half carrying me, toward the end.”
“For all the good it did us,” she muttered.
“Are you sure you’re all right? You seem . . . off.” Irahi’s dark eyes were altogether too perceptive, fixed on her face in a way she found disconcerting.
For a few seconds, Ritsuko considered confiding in him, but it wasn’t her way, especially when she hadn’t known him long, despite the eventful nature of their acquaintance. So she lifted a shoulder in a quiet shrug.
“I learned a few things this week. And some, I wish I hadn’t.”
“May I?” There was no chair, so he asked her permission to take a seat on the bed. Which she gave in a nod. After Irahi made himself comfortable on the bed, he said shrewdly, “I wonder if this has anything to do with why your partner’s in such a temper and drinking downstairs?”
“Probably,” she answered.
“Life rarely develops as we expect. People surprise us, sometimes in unpleasant ways. They don’t always react as we hope they will or want them to.”
“You sound extremely knowledgeable about this phenomenon,” Ritsuko said, sitting down beside him. “Are you thinking of someone in particular?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” His face became wistful, devoid of his usual good humor and flirtatious bonhomie. She suspected it was the most candid glimpse she’d had of the real man.
“Someone you’ve known a long time?” she guessed, sure he wasn’t referring to her.
Ritsuko had certainly noticed how protective he was of Miss Braelan. Theirs was a long friendship, but for the first time, she guessed he might wish things were different. She was a lovely woman, clever and adventurous, so it was natural that men fell in love with her. Half of the sailors on the Gull were probably nurturing secret, unrequited affections.
“Unfortunately, yes. But my place in her esteem has been cemented in a fashion I wouldn’t have chosen.”
Ritsuko sighed. “While you get to watch her make bad choices while offering unconditional support? That seems familiar.”
“I hope I haven’t led you to unreasonable expectations? I believed we were merely—”
“No, it’s fine. I’m relieved, in fact. I was afraid you’d end up proposing, and that would be awkward.” She grinned to show she was teasing.
“It might be better for both of us if I did. But I can relieve your mind on that count. But there’s much to admire about you, Celeste. I’m glad you were with me, down on the ledge.”
“Likewise,” she said.
“I’ll leave you, then, if you’re not in need of medical attention.”
“No, the salves and bandages are doing their job. There’s not a lot that can be done for bruises or scrapes anyway.”
“Unfortunately, time is the only cure for broken ribs as well. Good night.” Irahi opened the door, then paused.
Despite his injury, he bent down and kissed her cheek, a brotherly salute. “Try not to be sad. You’ll meet someone who’s heart-whole and has the wit to appreciate you.”
“I’d hug you, but that might hurt more than you’d enjoy it.”
“Not if you’re gentle with me,” Irahi said, reverting to the flirtatious manner that she knew was just a facade.
So she had her arms looped around the doctor’s waist when Mikani went past to his own room. He didn’t pause or greet them, merely shut the door behind him with exaggerated care. Ritsuko stayed there for a few seconds, then bade Irahi good night.
There was still a long journey ahead.
• • •
MIKANI WATCHED AS Saskia haggled for a pony and supplies. The innkeeper seemed to be even more stubborn than earlier, and he paced impatiently while they negotiated.
He checked the straps on his saddle a third time, then muttered a quiet oath and headed for the far end of the village square in search of some quiet. Since he’d searched for Ritsuko and Hu the day before, he’d been dogged by a low, indistinct murmur just at the edge of his hearing that made it hard to concentrate.
And the drinking didn’t help the accompanying headache, either. Fancy that, must be getting old.
He looked over to where Hu was helping Ritsuko check her packs and saddle, and the headache spiked.
That could have gone better. But there’s no good way to explain that finding her dead would have broken me. At least, not without digging into a lot of things we’ve left unsaid. And what if she doesn’t feel the same? Thinking about his partner that way didn’t feel wrong anymore, just impossible to navigate, like a briar patch with only one true path, and he wasn’t known for perfect romances.
He turned away before he got another unwanted glimpse at how hurt Ritsuko was: he needed to find a way to bring his damned ability under control, or he’d be raving mad by week’s end. Mikani strode back toward the inn, fully intending to threaten to leave Saskia behind to haggle to her heart’s content if she wanted. She emerged then, shaking her head but carrying a bag full of supplies. She stopped dead w
hen she saw him, the thoughtful expression turning wary at his expression.
He ignored the sharp tang of worry rolling off her and headed for his horse. “Let’s ride. Hu can take point to set a pace that doesn’t rattle his ribs too badly.”
“Just try and keep up, Mikani. I won’t take it easy on you while you nurse that hangover.” The doctor grinned down at him from atop his horse, but Mikani could hear the relief buried in the other man’s voice.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Hu. Get your beast moving, we’re losing daylight.”
Hu rode by, followed closely by Ritsuko. She did not turn to him, and he didn’t look up from the neck of his horse as she rode by.
Saskia stopped, managing to somehow look almost graceful on the short, dappled pony that she’d just purchased. She looked at Ritsuko, then up to him. “Janus—”
“Better get going. That thing’s not exactly built for speed.” He flicked his reins, and she had little choice but to follow.
He slowed his horse to a walk to let her ride past. Her pony clattered by, and she glared up at him in passing. “Idiot.”
I’m well aware.
Over the next two hours, he found that he could drown out the constant hum and drone of his gift if he concentrated.
The problem is, there’s bloody little to focus on out here in the middle of nowhere.
Mikani was riding well behind Ritsuko, Saskia, and Hu. He could see them chatting and looking around, and Hu’s deep laughter occasionally reached him. But if he looked their way for too long, he picked up snatches of emotion wafting back on the wind like half-remembered scents and half-forgotten feelings.
He chose to look around instead, trying to listen to the steady rhythm of his horse’s hooves on hard-packed dirt and to wrap himself in the animal’s vague sense of boredom.
The road along the narrow valley wound its way ever higher along Mount Surtir’s slopes. The mountain filled most of the western horizon now, plumes of steam and smoke rising from a dozen fumaroles and vents on the rugged flank of the volcano. Even from that distance, Mikani thought he could smell a hint of sulfur and ash. Small groves of twisted trees and hardy wildflowers that he could not name broke the monotony of the coarse grass blanketing the gently rising ground. An occasional rustle and furtive movement in the distance spoke of animals eking out a living from the desolate landscape.
It’s better than a bloody mountain path in the rain, though. I’ll take boring for the day, but any longer, and I might start missing the angry rock things.
That thought made him glance at his companions up ahead. His horse had cut the distance to them by a dozen yards or more while he’d been distracted; the sharp jab of sad anger he caught there made him curse and rein back.
That’s going to get incredibly . . . inconvenient. Hells.
• • •
THE VILLAGERS HAD given them directions to a shorter road to the elemental foundries and mines. It had fallen into disuse when the railroad had been finished; they swore that it would cut their travel time to half on horseback, though.
With that in mind, Hu called for a break in their ride a couple of hours past noon. Mikani was ready to argue until he glimpsed the other man’s pained expression. “Fine. We could all do with a stretch, anyway.”
Mikani dismounted and started a fire, while Ritsuko and Saskia helped Hu down, ignoring his chagrined protests. Lunch was quick, then they got back on the horses. He hoped like hell that answers lay at the end of the trip.
• • •
JUST PAST SUNSET, Mikani spotted the village where they would spend the night. Before the end of the day tomorrow, they should reach the mines. His mount seemed as relieved as he that there would be a break. Though he hadn’t pushed the animal, he was tired of riding.
This was even smaller than Skalbrekka, hardly more than a handful of buildings and a public house, which had clearly seen better days. Most of the roofs needed replacing, and the people were thinner than they had been in the other village.
Times must be tough.
But the stable lad snatched at the coins, and the tavernkeeper seemed pleased, if surprised to see them. He called for bowls of stew and his words of welcome tumbled over the top of each other as he recommended his home-brewed ale and his wife’s bread. Soon, Mikani could tell that the inn was family-run. The stable boy appeared to be a son or possibly a nephew, while the father poured drinks, his wife cooked, and his daughters cleaned and served the food.
There were only three other patrons in the common room, surly-looking locals he guessed. So it was a quiet meal, as none of their party seemed in the mood to chat, either. Even Saskia had picked up on the mood, or maybe she was just tired. Either way, they ate in silence.
Ritsuko was the first to retire, followed by Saskia.
Mikani kept his eyes on his cup and his senses deliberately dulled with a steady supply of ale and some home-grown liquor that the tavernkeeper swore would not make him go blind. It burned his throat, roiled uneasily in his stomach, and kept him in just enough discomfort that he did not realize Hu was still sitting next to him until the other man spoke.
“What happened back there, Mikani?” Hu’s voice was steady enough, but Mikani could not help but read the layered accusation in his tone.
“Guess the rock golems thought you were one of them, and they wanted to play?”
Mikani had just enough time to kick back from the table before Hu had him by the lapels and against the wall. The tavernkeeper and his daughters scrambled out of the main room to peer around the doorframe.
Smart. I’d be glad to be in another room, too, right about now.
“What happened back there?” Hu was breathing raggedly; even through the quickly dissipating haze of alcohol, Mikani flinched at the pain and anger radiating from him.
“Damn it, Hu . . . It was stupid and—”
The doctor slammed him against the wall. That’ll hurt when I sober up.
“Don’t bloody lie to me, man! I’ve seen you do thoughtless things. I’ve seen you try to get killed. But I’ve never seen you run. Tell me, now, or I swear I’ll—”
“I tried to get them away from you! I was luring them away . . . the path collapsed. Damn it, Hu, we couldn’t get back to you.” He hesitated, before the final admission. “I told myself I was being smart—that we’d get help—but the truth is, I was afraid I’d find her dead. All right? The thought of finding her broken in a pile of stones . . .” Mikani drew a sharp breath. Guilt and despair roared in his head, drowning out everything else. “I couldn’t bear it.”
I truly couldn’t.
For a few seconds, he imagined life without Ritsuko, and he couldn’t even picture himself working for the CID. There was just an ever-widening abyss, rising and falling like the sea.
Hu closed his eyes and let out a long breath. Then he sat heavily, letting Mikani slide down to a pile on the floor in front of him. “Bronze gods, Mikani. You’ve seen death before. Bloody hells, we’ve buried friends together, you and I.”
“She’s different, Hu.”
“Then tell her that before it’s too late, you sodding imbecile.”
CHAPTER 19
STONE COTTAGES DOTTED THE MOUNTAINSIDE AS RITSUKO rode into Eldheim. Plumes of smoke rose up from the other side; it looked as if something might be burning. People seemed alarmed here, too, not pausing to greet the newcomers. Just once, it would be nice to receive a proper welcome instead of more bad news. But it had been that sort of trip.
The mining town showed its age in the rugged stonework, worn away by years of exposure to wind and rain. This was the largest settlement they’d encountered since leaving Northport with fully stocked stores, supplies that had probably been shipped in via train, before all the troubles began. Cobblestone streets led through the main shopping district and out the other side. Everyone was in a hurry to get to the mines above.
“We should find the Skarsgard and Magnus foremen. They’ll give us access to their mines if they’re
still alive.” Mikani looked worn, deep lines creasing the corner of his eyes. She was not sure he’d slept in the last couple of days.
“They’ll be at the main shaft, up ahead.” Hu pointed toward the far end of town, where a monolithic structure, seemingly carved from the mountain itself in black stone and granite, swarmed with activity. A half dozen train tracks emerged from as many tunnels at its base, though no engines were in sight.
They made their way closer, weaving through the shifting crowds.
“That’s strange.” Miss Braelan was looking around. “They don’t seem to be fleeing . . . you’d think they were preparing for a siege.”
She was right: people were carrying building supplies and weapons, boarding up windows and erecting makeshift barricades in doorways. They did not spare more than a moment’s attention for the four of them as they rode past.
“I’d guess more elementals running amok,” Ritsuko said with a sigh.
It’s not a good sign when that seems like an ordinary problem. By their expressions, the others agreed with her assessment. But before they could enter the mines, they needed to find a place to stable their horses. Ritsuko stopped a couple of folks to ask for directions, and the third person she bothered gave her harried information. Mikani set off toward the other side of town, near the inn as was customary.
Miss Braelan did the haggling for the care and feeding of the animals, while Ritsuko examined the inn across the alley. Two young men were boarding up the windows from the inside while an older man reinforced the door with strips of metal. Each slam of his sledge made her jump a little, mostly because they all looked so grim. Nobody was feeling helpful or even remotely sociable in Eldheim. Though the trouble wasn’t like what they’d seen in Northport, the mood seemed darker, as if these people had made up their minds that this was where they’d fight and die, defending their homes. At closer inspection, some buildings bore scorch marks or had divots of stone gouged from the walls.
Like something huge and powerful struck them.
“I think we’re done here,” Miss Braelan said.
Silver Mirrors Page 17