Silver Mirrors

by A. A. Aguirre

  A Magnus guard nearby took a blade through the neck, spattering Ritsuko with blood. She stumbled back just in time to avoid the same. From the look of her opponent, this was one of Thorgrim’s elite men. He was tall and well muscled, and his eyes were wild, not with fear, but exhilaration. He enjoys killing. The way he tossed his knife from hand to hand felt like a taunt and a promise.

  “You’re going to die,” he said. “All of you.”

  She raised Irahi’s dagger in her left hand without responding. I’m not trained for this. Which was why when he was watching her position the knife with apparent amusement, she whipped her revolver up in her right and shot him. Hard to miss at this range. He looked surprised when he fell, as if she’d done something she wasn’t supposed to. That’s three.

  A large hand grabbed her arm and pulled her along; she tripped and nearly lost her balance. She raised her gun—and recognized Irahi.

  “Sorry, Celeste, but we have to move.” He glanced behind him briefly, then hurried to catch up with the men rushing up the path to the palace.

  Ritsuko stumbled along, passing a knot of men tangled in close combat. The shifting mass of bodies made it impossible to tell who was winning, but Irahi did not pause to help either side. He paused, and she turned at the sound of gunfire behind them.

  A large group of Skarsgard guards, thirty or forty of them, was rushing toward the broken gate at the bottom of the hill. A few Magnus marines were slowing them down with sporadic fire, but they’d be in the palace compound in a matter of minutes.

  Mikani stepped up beside her. He had picked up a carbine somewhere but seemed to have lost his axe. “We need to get in the manor quickly. We can fend them off there and look for Lady Thorgrim.”

  “We won’t be able to hold them off for long, even in there.” Ritsuko could see a group of Thorgrim guards making its way toward the broken gate from the docks. They were scattered through the city, hoping to spot a landing on time. Now they know where we are.

  “We only need long enough to stop her.” Mikani turned and headed back up the hill; Irahi waited for her to start up the path before bringing up the rear.

  Fresh gunfire plowed into the dirt around her and cracked slivers of stone from a fountain nearby; she ducked alongside Irahi, taking cover behind the marble stonework of a decorative column. Magnus’s men and Free Merchant sailors crouched behind low walls and trees all around. She peered over the edge of the fountain.

  The Major General’s palace was a sprawling structure with graceful walkways and courtyards open to the fresh sea breeze. Now those arches and the broad second-story windows held snipers, the long barrels of their rifles shifting slowly in search of targets. The constant crackle of gunfire and cries of wounded men filled the air, while the bitter smell and growing pall of gunpowder made it hard to breathe. Ritsuko spotted a defender leaning out too far from one of the windows to aim, and she took her shot. The man fell back with a cry of pain; she wasn’t sure where her bullet went, but she’d definitely hit him.

  Four. Need to reload soon.

  Ritsuko had twenty bullets in a pouch, so that would have to be enough to get this done. She surveyed the property for any sign of weakness, but the ground level seemed to be well fortified. She’ll crush us here if we don’t move. The defenders held the high ground, and there was no way to know how long the Magnus marines could corral the reinforcements down by the gate.

  “The direct route is always best,” Mikani said.

  Irahi looked wary. “What’d you have in mind?”

  “Follow me. I have an idea.”

  That never ended well. Nonetheless, she and Irahi crept after him as he inched around the side of the manor. It was unlikely that Lady Thorgrim had men sufficient to post guards in every window. Shots rang out as they moved, peppering the ground before them. Mikani kept to statuary and hedges when possible, but sometimes they had to run from point to point.

  Eventually, he stopped at a small wooden door, half-hidden by overgrown grass and weeds, nestled at an odd angle against a solid wall. The wood looked old and weathered, the hinges rusted to a dark reddish brown.

  She sniffed the air. “That smells like . . .”

  “Coal delivery shaft,” Mikani said. “Connects to the basement. Most old houses have them, especially when there’s no gas used in cooking.”

  The doctor nodded. “Let’s do this.”

  Ritsuko didn’t know if it was a good idea to leave the others behind, but she didn’t have a better one. “I’m in.”

  • • •

  MIKANI PRIED THE doors open with his carbine; the hinges gave way with a dull snap, but the barrel of the short rifle was ruined. He tossed it aside and slid into the dark shaft, trusting Ritsuko and Hu to follow.

  He landed with a clattering of coal and a cloud of black dust in the half-full bin, toppling it over. He rolled to his knees, coughing and trying to clear his eyes. The stone basement was dark, musty, and empty. Good thing. We’re not being quiet about this.

  Ritsuko landed into the pile of coal with a muffled grunt; he helped her to her feet and pulled her aside just as Hu rolled down with a loud clatter of the metal passage and a crash of the wooden bin collapsing with the big man’s arrival. Hu stood, fragments of coal and dust sloughing off him like a dark waterfall. He gave Mikani a look that seemed distinctly unamused.

  “Trust you to find the messiest way into anything.”

  Mikani grinned at him, and they all made their way up the stairs to a wooden door. Mikani opened it carefully and peeked through. The kitchen was empty, the servants either fled or hiding in their quarters somewhere up above. He led them through and out to the main corridor. The sounds of fighting were muted by the thick doors of the atrium off to their left. The palace’s private areas, including the Major General’s suite, would be to their right, deeper in the complex.

  “Let’s find the Major General.”

  Hu shook his head. “You two go, and be careful. I need to open the front doors for our people outside before they’re crushed.”

  Mikani frowned. “Hu, we need—”

  His friend placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him toward the stairs. “We each do what we must, old friend. Go stop the witch. I have lives to save.” He grinned down at Ritsuko, then, his teeth the whiter against coal-stained features. “Keep him safe, Celeste.”

  Damn’d be, Hu. Mikani clapped the bigger man on the arm and headed toward the palace’s private wing.

  “This is how it should be,” Ritsuko said quietly. “You and me, together at the end.”

  “Not the end of everything. Just Lady Thorgrim.” Mikani flashed a determinedly cheerful look, hoping she wouldn’t notice that he wasn’t sure of that.

  The way her lips compressed said she registered the half-truth. Bloody hells. That’ll cause me problems down the line.

  “We can do this.” Her voice was firm, and he took comfort in it.

  “Bronze gods know I’d rather not do this again, but we have to hunt her down. Watch my back, partner?”

  “Always.”

  She took his arm as he closed his eyes. Mikani released his control slowly and felt his fists clench in anticipation—the wave of nausea was new, but the rush of pain was all too familiar from his earlier efforts. Even with his senses narrowed, the sensation was nearly unbearable from this close-up. He turned slowly, seeking the source of the flaring pain.

  Like deciding where it hurts the most after being tossed into a bonfire. The skin peeling off my back, or the boiling—there it is.

  He forced his gift down and opened his eyes. A red film obscured everything, but the throbbing memory of pain was clear. “This way,” he mumbled.

  His tongue felt thick, and his lips burned. Ritsuko slung his arm over her shoulder, and they scrambled along the corridor. His sight was clearing, and after a few steps he managed to walk on his own by bracing a hand on the wall. He stopped at the corner where another corridor crossed their path. Up ahead was a thick wooden door. P
eering around the corner on his left revealed three men nervously guarding another set of double doors.

  “She’s behind those doors, somewhere close. Whatever she’s doing, it’s getting worse.”

  Beside him, Ritsuko took a knee, bracing her revolver. “We each take one. The last will get to cover if he can. Let’s try not to let him.”

  “Agreed. On three?”

  She whispered the count, then together, they popped out from around the corner and shot one guard each. Mikani nailed his target in the head, more by luck than design. Ritsuko went for the chest shot. The remaining guard returned fire as Mikani scrambled back around the corner. A bullet nicked the floor behind him, so he felt the shattering tile as he moved. Ritsuko was already there.

  “He can’t know when we’ll come at him again.”

  Mikani heard the guard pounding on the door, but there seemed to be no response from those within. “Now.”

  They swung out together and shot the soldier as he wheeled to face them. As the guard dropped, Mikani raced toward the double doors. They were heavy and solid, unlikely to be shifted by two tired inspectors. Ritsuko knelt to examine the lock.

  “Can you open it? Brute force isn’t always the answer.”

  “I can try. Otherwise, we have to wait for Hu to bring the surviving marines and sailors.”

  An ominous sound from within—a sort of low, dull roar—likely made Ritsuko shake her head. “That’ll be too late.”

  Mikani dropped to his knees beside her and got out his lockpicking kit. Always be prepared for a little larceny. He felt none too steady after the recent taxing use of his gift, but everything depended on stopping the Major General. So he applied rods to tumblers with dogged persistence.

  After a couple minutes of work, the lock mechanism clicked. “We’re in.”

  He pulled on the latch and pushed through, sidestepping behind a pile of chairs and a low banquet table that had been pushed nearly to the wall. Ritsuko slipped in to crouch beside him. They exchanged a look, then looked over the table.

  Lady Thorgrim stood alone before a swirling vortex of silver and light. Mikani could make out vague shapes in the maelstrom; faces and impossibly elongated humanoid shapes. He shivered in the arctic cold of the ballroom, his breath steaming before him. When he saw the elaborate scrollwork at the edges, realization hit.

  It’s a mirror, like the ones we use to send messages, only I’ve never seen one this big. It’s half a ton of pure silver.

  “What the devil is she doing?” Ritsuko whispered.

  “Don’t care. It stops now.” Mikani whipped out his sidearm and aimed, searching out a weakness in the mirror. Hells and Winter. There’s only one certain soft spot in this arcane mess.

  He shot the woman in the calf.

  The spirits surrounding her shimmered and screamed, audible to Ritsuko as well, if her expression was anything to judge by. They swirled around Lady Thorgrim in a furious circle, then spiraled outward in a widening arc, then a pillar of light pierced the ceiling, funneling from the house in a deafening explosion, similar to what they’d set off in the mines.

  Except without a grenade. That was his last coherent thought for a few seconds as the shock wave blew him back toward the wall. He slammed into it hard; as soon as he was able to move again, he started crawling toward Ritsuko, dimly aware of Lady Thorgrim shouting curses. So she’s still alive. Good. I want answers. His partner found him with blind hands; she was bleeding from a cut on her forehead. When Mikani stood, his leg nearly buckled.

  That’ll leave a mark. His ears rang, and his entire body was a mess of aches and pains . . . but the keening wail of the suffering air spirits was fading, fast. They’re free.

  “You imbeciles! You could’ve killed us all,” the Major General shouted from her position on the floor. Her once-matronly features were contorted with rage. From the look in her eyes, if she had a weapon, she’d cheerfully murder them both.

  Mikani crouched, then sat near the Thorgrim woman when his knee gave out. Ritsuko stood beside him. She’d found her revolver and kept an unsteady bead on the woman.

  “Sorry about that. We were improvising; you forgot to tell us your plan to steal away the air elementals when you were sending us off to fight salamanders. So, really.” He leaned forward to tap Lady Thorgrim on the forehead with a finger, causing her to flail and snarl at him. “You’re as much to blame as we are, for that, yes?”

  “Get your hands off me, you bloody mongrel! I am Lady Maire of Kare, and I will not be manhandled by some animal.”

  Beside him, Ritsuko drew in a shocked breath. Mikani turned to her with a questioning glance, and his partner explained, “The Kares were a defunct bloodline from the old stories. Her line died out after the Ferisher princess slew her human husband rather than commingle—”

  “We did not! The line of Kare lives on in the polluted halls of other so-called Houses.” She shifted, wincing as she sat up straighter. “The Unbound Ferishers, founders and matriarchs of House Kare, still rule the deep places beyond Olrik’s thrice-damned barrier. If they knew what’s befallen their progeny, how you beasts have abused them . . .”

  “You were trying to call them back.” Ritsuko was looking up at the mirror, and Mikani finally understood.

  A massive, heavily enchanted silver mirror. She was trying to call the ancient Ferisher Lords through the barriers between the worlds: the strain of reaching through the veil must have killed the spirits . . . she was using them as fuel for her summons.

  Mikani ran a hand through his hair. “That’s why you were binding the air elementals . . . but why the salamanders?”

  Maire of Kare looked away and toward the window. “Those damned fire snakes . . . when the gate didn’t open properly two months ago, thanks to that imbecile Nuall, there was enough of a rent in the veil to jolt the salamanders awake. Every time I tried to bind air spirits to the mirror and complete the summoning, a handful of fire elementals broke their fetters. They ran wild, disrupting the ritual . . . and as more elementals were freed, more and more started waking up throughout Hy Breasil.”

  “The salamanders . . . all those people dead, because of you.” Ritsuko’s voice shook slightly, with anger and grief.

  “I was trying to finish what you spoiled in Dorstaad. This was my last chance!”

  “You were Lorne Nuall’s patron,” Ritsuko said.

  Mikani had already guessed as much from Lady Kare’s furious rant.

  “Of course I was. He was far too stupid and self-centered to manage on his own; he thought I meant to bring back the Shining Ones. He believed they would crown him king of a restored House Nuall, taking Saermine’s place in a restored monarchy . . . as if I’d have any part in ruling you animals instead of exterminating you all. Now stop staring and get me some medical attention. I’m bleeding!”

  Mikani said to Ritsuko, “I don’t think Lady Thorgrim—that is, Lady Kare, understands how much her circumstances have changed.”

  “Not yet. But she will.”

  CHAPTER 32

  MIKANI TUGGED THE FORMER MAJOR GENERAL TO HER FEET, ignoring the constant stream of insults as he slung her arm over his shoulder. “We need to get her away from the mirror and check on our people at the doors. It’s been a few minutes since I last heard gunfire.”

  Ritsuko hadn’t noticed the sudden silence until then. “You tracked the elementals . . . can you check to see if they’re still bound?”

  “Take her. Don’t let her move.”

  She did, and her partner closed his eyes. His irises twitched beneath his lids as his face went beyond pale to green, and blood trickled from his nostrils. Mikani was gasping when he snapped back to the present. If she wasn’t already supporting Lady Thorgrim, who was cursing in a low and virulent tone, Ritsuko would’ve offered him a shoulder.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Best I can tell, they’re all free. I suspect I disrupted her concentration when I shot her.”

  “The soldiers sho
uld’ve been enough to keep everyone out long enough for me to finish what I started,” Lady Kare snarled.

  Before the woman could say more, there were distant shouts; the palace echoed with faint footsteps along stone hallways and the occasional indistinct voice.

  “Someone’s coming,” Ritsuko said.

  Mikani took possession of the prisoner once more.

  She pulled her revolver and stepped to the side of the door. Just in case. Best not to presume they’re friendly. Her partner seemed to share the thought and clapped a hand over Lady Thorgrim’s mouth to prevent her from calling for help. She waited in taut silence until the man stepped through the heavy doors. Ritsuko lowered her weapon when she recognized Viktor Magnus’s first lieutenant.

  “You have the traitor in custody?” he asked.

  Casting a glance toward Mikani, who was holding the older woman, still struggling in his grasp, she nodded. “We stopped her in time. What’s the situation?”

  “The Pride sank the third Skarsgard frigate an hour ago. After that, they were eager to talk. That man of yours, Loison? He negotiated for a cease-fire. When Skarsgard stopped fighting, most of the Thorgrim forces laid down arms.” He started walking down the main hall, so Ritsuko and Mikani followed. There was fresh debris and clouds of dust in the air; a sizable hole had been blown in the palace wall. “This was the last holdout,” the lieutenant explained as he stepped over broken masonry. “The Pride persuaded them to surrender.”

  Mikani growled a curse. She turned to see his hand fall away from Lady Thorgrim’s mouth. “She bit me,” he said, looking incredulously at his fingers.

  “This can’t be happening,” the old woman said numbly. “Not after all my plans and preparations.”