Marie Brennan - Doppelganger

“It won’t be bad after tonight,” Mirage said. “Soon we’ll be in trees again, and then we’ll be able to set up something much better. Besides, the bad weather probably won’t last long. Summers have been dry, lately.”

“All the more reason we’re due for a wet one.” Hearing the whine in her own voice, Miryo grimaced. “Sorry.”

“I can hardly throw stones at you for being in a bad mood. I feel the same way myself.”

Eclipse glanced at them both, but said nothing. He had reacted little to their account of their meeting with Ashin. Lately he seemed to have assumed the responsibility of keeping them in one piece until they found their answer or killed themselves trying. Beyond that, he was keeping his mouth shut. Not long ago, such behavior would have intimidated Miryo, but she was becoming accustomed to him. He had begun treating her the way he did Mirage. This made things a little problematic for Miryo, who didn’t understand him the way her doppelganger did, but she just followed Mirage’s lead: If Eclipse’s silence didn’t bother her, Miryo wouldn’t worry about it, either.

Mirage tapped her on the arm. Suppressing a sigh, Miryo got up and followed her out from under the shelter of the cloaks.

They had agreed to pray together every night, in hope of deriving some kind of inspiration from it. Miryo wasn’t sure how productive it would be, but it couldn’t hurt. If nothing else, it meant she’d at least go to the Goddess’s arms with a good record of piety.

She banished such negative thoughts with a grimace. Thinking like that won’t get you anywhere .

The first sporadic drops of rain began to fall. Miryo knelt on the ground at Mirage’s side, looked at the sky, and began to pray.

I don’t think this is doing much good .

Mirage suppressed a sigh. It wouldn’t help to let Miryo know her heart was not truly in their prayers. It wasn’t that she didn’t care; her life was on the line, after all. She just didn’t get the feeling that kneeling out here in the mud was getting them anywhere.

Once again she turned her mind to the ins and outs of their problem, in hope of having some sudden revelation that would make everything clear. No such luck. Separation still struck her as their best option, but Ashin hadn’t favored it, and Miryo seemed to agree with the Key. They’d spent the ride so far cooking up bizarre schemes for making Mirage a part of the casting process instead.

She still had to shudder at the proposition Eclipse had put forth. He hadn’t meant it seriously, but the potential consequences didn’t bear thinking about. He had suggested that they try to create the channel for power in Mirage.

I can just see me spawning another one of me — of us — whatever. Three people with one soul. As if two aren’t enough. And we’d still have an antimagical doppelganger around, which wouldn’t solve anything .

Miryo had tried teaching Mirage to sing a spell, but that had been a miserable failure. Not only could Mirage barely tell one note from another, she found it impossible to remember the proper order of the syllables. The language used for magic was not easy to learn, and small errors had meaning. She’d accidentally said “kosuda” instead of “koshuda,” and Miryo had fallen about laughing. According to the witch, she would have been summoning fish instead of a wind.

What else was there? They had already tried being in physical contact, the same night she had Eclipse knock her out. None of it was working.

Mirage realized her breathing had quickened. She forced herself to slow down. Even if I can’t concentrate, I shouldn’t distract Miryo .

She knew that Eclipse thought she had become resigned to dying in the attempt. He was wrong, although Mirage could not have said exactly why. She had said at one point that it was because “die trying” wasn’t even an option; she would succeed. That wasn’t quite it, though. And it wasn’t Ashin’s blind belief that the Goddess would make it all right.

Maybe it’s just that I can’t believe I really might die .

Oh, and this is a cheerful train of thought .

She shook the gloomy feeling off with an effort. Even as she did so, the intermittent drops from the sky became a real rain. Mirage sighed inwardly, but said nothing; Miryo was deep in prayer, and she would stay out here as long as her double did.

But Miryo was in fact not deep in prayer. She was looking at Mirage.

When she realized this, Mirage blinked. Miryo’s eyes slid quickly away, but Mirage had to grin. “Have you been praying?” she asked.

Miryo looked uncomfortable. “I… I just can’t concentrate. I’m sorry if I distracted you.”

At that, Mirage laughed outright. “And here I am, kneeling in the rain because I don’t want to interrupt you . What a stupid pair we make.”

“Do you want to go back in?”

“No, I’d rather sit out here in the mud.” Mirage snorted and got to her feet. “Enough of this. Maybe some sects would tell us suffering is good for the soul, but I think the Goddess will understand if we forgo this in favor of not catching cold.”

The rain, which had been showing every sign of blowing through quickly, changed its mind and camped out over the road they were taking. It did not improve Miryo’s mood. She had hoped for a while that it would be possible to teach Mirage the words and pitches of a spell, and that this might be the answer to their problems—or at least the right idea—but she finally had to concede defeat. Her doppelganger was trying, but she didn’t have the ear, or the voice.

Well, at least twenty-five years of study accomplished something. Even if I can’t use it .

She found she was chewing on one thumbnail and made herself stop. Fine, so that idea won’t work. Think of another one. You haven’t tried everything, and maybe something you think is completely outlandish will turn out to be the answer. You’ll never know until you try .

Of course, trying might well kill her.

But if I don’t try, I’ll still end up using my magic by accident. I know I will. I almost bit my tongue off last night, trying to keep myself from interfering with the rain. During the fight with Wraith, it felt so good to pull power. Even though I didn’t really have it under control I’m going to get us killed .

For a while she rode with the fond fantasy that the Primes knew the key to solving it all, and were keeping it from her out of a spiteful desire to undermine the Goddess’s gift. She particularly enjoyed the idea of hitting Shimi over the head with something large and heavy; the Prime was one of the few reasons she still wasn’t sure about joining the Air Ray.

Shimi wasn’t a truly bad person, though, and there could definitely be worse Primes. Miryo still remembered Ikkena-chashi, the Earth Prime who had preceded Koika during the first two years Miryo had been at Starfall. That woman’s heart had been carved out of stone—assuming she had one to begin with. And Ashin would make a miserable Prime. Her temper got the best of her much too often. Shimi would likely be succeeded by Naji, though, who was the current Heart Key, and who would make a very good Prime when the time came.

And thinking about that is getting you nowhere. Stop wasting time .

A fat splat of water hit Miryo in the face at that exact moment, and she bit back a swear word. Then, with a sigh, she bent her mind once more to the task of finding a way to stay alive.

At least we’ve got trees over our heads. That makes it better. Sort of .

Just keep telling yourself that .