Marie Brennan: Doppelganger

Right hand on the bowl, left hand holding the crystal, the witch sang a series of sharp notes in the language of magic. Mirage’s stomach lurched as their commingled blood suddenly rushed upward, back through the gap between their wrists, to strike the crystal, where it was absorbed. The witch set the newly dyed ruby back onto the table and clasped their bleeding wrists in her own hands.

“Your oath is accepted. You are free to Hunt.”

A sudden surge of pain made Mirage grip Eclipse’s hand in resistance. And then it was gone, as quickly as it had come, and the witch was moving the table away.

Mirage released Eclipse’s hand and examined her wrist. Even in the dim light, she could see the thin scar. It glittered peculiarly, with a greenish shade that seemed to be a reminder of the strangely colored magical fire that had sealed it shut. The scar would mark her for life, a sign that she had undertaken a blood-oathed commission—and, if all went well, survived.

They didn’t leave the house immediately. Bom Mirage and Eclipse had a number of questions they needed to ask; if they were to investigate the assassination, they would need as much information as possible. The witch answered readily enough, but Mirage still felt something off-kilter.

Is she keeping something from us? But why would she ? Mirage considered the question even as she listened to Eclipse ask something else. Is she afraid of being incriminated in something? In the murder? I doubt the guilty party’s hiring us to investigate . She frowned beneath her mask. It’s something to keep an eye out for. I don’t like mysteries, not when my life is on the line .

They departed before dawn, carrying the first part of their payment and an enchanted sheet of rice paper that could be used to ask the witch further questions, should the need arise. Mirage was certain it would. She didn’t like the paper, though; it would send the words written on it to a matching sheet the witch had, certainly, but communicating through writing would make it a great deal harder to tell if the witch was equivocating or avoiding a subject.

Neither Hunter spoke until they were in their room again and had checked their surroundings for eavesdroppers. There were none; Mirage hadn’t expected any, but it always paid to be careful. She just wished she had some way to prevent magical prying.

“What do you think?” Eclipse asked as he removed his mask and put it on the table.

Mirage had also taken hers off, and she turned it over in her hands as she replied. “It’s the work of a Hunter.”

He nodded. “My thoughts exactly. We’re the only people who get that kind of training, to think it through carefully, and hide our tracks.”

“So which school? Could be several—Silverfire, for one. Although we don’t tend to do assassin work as often. Thornblood would be more likely. Or Stoneshadow, or Wolfstar.”

“I’d favor those latter two. It strikes me as the kind of job you’d hire a specialist for; we’re more jack-of-all-trades, and so’s Thornblood. So it boils down to a question of freelance or bonded. Is this some Lord’s permanent assassin, or a mercenary?”

“I’ve got the same gut feeling—that it’s an assassination specialist—but we can’t get locked into that,” Mirage cautioned.

“Agreed.” Eclipse sat down, then leaned the chair onto its back two legs as he thought. “The greyweed on the saddle blanket had to have come from out east, probably Insebrar—do you think that’s where the employer is?”

“Maybe. Would Lord Ralni have any reason to assassinate her? Not that it necessarily was him, of course. But Lords are some of the only people with the money or influence to buy the death of someone that important; I mean, she headed an entire Path in her Ray. And besides, Fire witches are the political ones.” Mirage paced the small room, mask still dangling from her fingers. There was a faint thought teasing at the back of her head. When she nailed it down, she stopped pacing. “He’s patient, whoever he is. He couldn’t be at all certain Tari-nakana would die in that accident—our contact said she was a good rider. She might have controlled her horse when it shied, or gotten clear as it fell. So he valued subtlety over immediate results.”

“But he was almost certainly hired for the job , not the attempt.”

“Which means he had a backup plan.”

“Her home, you think?”

“It’s where I’d go next, were I in his place. She was on her way back to Starfall. I just hope they haven’t touched anything yet, or that our assassin friend hasn’t gone and cleaned the place up. If we see another of his traps, we might have a better chance of identifying his school.”

Eclipse nodded and dropped the chair back onto four legs. “Which brings up a question: How do you want to work this? Should we figure out who the assassin was, and track the chain back that way, or should we be trying to find out who would’ve wanted to kill her?”

Mirage leaned against a wall and considered. Eclipse waited patiently for her answer, not pushing; they were already falling into a smooth working partnership. “We could split up, with one of us chasing each. Two Hunters would be useful that way. But we don’t have to decide now.”

“Right. Either way, the next logical destination is Tari-nakana’s house in Starfall, since that’s where her office was.”

Less than an hour, and already Mirage had a question for their witch contact. “Could you write and ask if the house has been touched?” She grinned. “I’d do it, but…”

“You sing like an asthmatic horse. I’d rather not hear you try.”

Mirage mock-snarled at him and went to put her mask away as Eclipse wrote out their question in his elegant handwriting. Then he activated the sheet, singing under his breath the first line of the ballad “The Hawk of Fire.” A sign that their contact was from the Fire Ray, or just a nod to Tari-nakana’s affiliation?

The words faded off the sheet, but the response did not come immediately. Rather than wait idly, they both changed back into mundane clothing. By the time their uniforms were packed into their saddlebags, a line written in a spiky, backhanded script had appeared in place of Eclipse’s question.

“As far as she knows, the house is untouched,” he said, reading from the sheet.

Two copper disks dropped out of nowhere onto the table.

Mirage swore mildly in startlement as she picked them up. “She’d better not do that on a regular basis.” The disks were identical; on one side they showed the triskele circle of the witches, and on the other, a two-part glyph. “Name symbols, do you think?”

Another line had appeared on the paper. Eclipse read it aloud. “ ‘The tokens should get you past the wards on Tari-nakana’s house.’” He took one and examined it closely, then compared it to Mirage’s. “Maybe. Tari-nakana’s name, with something else?”

“Don’t lose it. I’d hate to have to pick you up in pieces.”

“That would be messy. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” He glanced out the window to check the sky. “Not quite dawn. I say we sleep for a few hours, then get on the road.”

“Agreed?” Mirage said. “It’s a long way to Starfall.”

The mountains reached high into the night sky, but the stars glimmered higher still. Miryo lay on her back against the slanted roof of the students’ hall and studied them, trying to lose herself in peaceful stargazing.

Her thoughts, however, would not leave her alone.

Her eyes scanned restlessly, picking out one constellation after another, identifying each, reviewing their cycles in the sky. It didn’t help to look elsewhere. Turning her attention downward only showed her the nearby buildings of Starfall’s major settlement: the students’ hall beneath her; the architectural logjam of the ancient main building; the New House, where she would hopefully be living before much longer. All reminders of what was coming. There was no surcease to be found in looking downward.