Marie Brennan - Doppelganger

That was a different phrase. So they don’t all cancel the same .

Shimi’s eyes looked like they were going to fall out of her skull. It was a fundamental truth that magic could be counteracted, but never canceled. And Mirei had just turned that on its head.

“This is what Misetsu didn’t understand,” Mirei said. The branches of the hall were filling up. She couldn’t spare the attention to be sure, but it looked like all the witches from the ruling hall were entering the branches for their Rays. The Void witches made a ring around the Primes, and the students were packing in at the back of each branch, eyes wide. There were even Cousins, squeezing into the spaces behind the columns. “Doppelgangers are the undoing of magic. As you have just seen.”

The reaction was not what she had hoped.

It was even worse than she had feared.

Miryo had never been in a true battle of any kind, physical or magical. So it was purely Mirage’s instincts that guided Mirei when terror possessed the Primes’ faces and the spells began to sound.

She flew into motion, singing frantically, body twisting, slashing through spells right and left. They came only from the Primes, and for that she was grateful; had any other witches joined in, she would have been dead. As it was, only the power of the Void and the other women’s fear of it saved her from the Primes’ spells. Ordinarily she would never have stood a chance against the five of them, not together and probably not alone, but she had canceling magic, which they had never seen before and did not know how to react to. A spell that took them twenty pitches to construct, she could cut through in four.

Her canceling could overpower any one of them. But only barely, and they soon realized that just as well as she did.

They began to sing together.

Mirei didn’t even recognize what they were constructing. That made things worse; if she didn’t know what it was, she couldn’t cut it effectively. And the odds of her managing to outmuscle all five Primes in concert were beyond bad.

She saw the look in Shimi’s eyes, and knew she wasn’t likely to survive whatever they were building.

I can’t stop them .

But I can try to turn them .

Mirei didn’t let herself consider what she was about to do. She took a deep breath, prayed to the Goddess, and threw her voice into their spell.

She did not seek to cancel it; she didn’t have the strength. Instead, she did something even more reckless: she wove herself and her power into the spell they were building. Satomi was at its head, and so she found herself in direct competition with the Void Prime for control of the energy.

She and Satomi faced off across the central dais. Electricity surged up Mirei’s spine; her movements had closed in to nearly nothing, but the energy she was channeling lived in them just the same, suffusing her body until she knew she might well die of it. The two witches stood at the heart of a vortex of power that was spinning wildly out of control; Mirei couldn’t take it from the Void Prime, but her efforts threatened Satomi’s grip.

If this goes on , Mirei realized, we are all going to die .

Any of the witches in the hall could stop her. Mirei could not see them through the lightning swirl of energy that surrounded her, but she heard no voices beyond the six of them, and felt no interference. No one was going to risk touching this maelstrom.

She could not take it, and Satomi could not hold it.

Mirei looked the Void Prime directly in the eye. The anguish she saw there struck her like a physical blow.

She wants to believe. She wants to admit I’m right, and that she was right to doubt. But she also wants me to be wrong, because if this is truly the way, then she failed the Goddess when she killed her doppelganger .

She could not spare a single instant to speak. All of her voice, all of her energy, was bound up in the spell cracking the air around them. She could only communicate with her eyes.

Give it to me, Satomi. Give me the power, and let go of the past .

Please .

PLEASE .

The power slipped into her control.

Mirei acted with the instantaneous decisiveness of a warrior in battle, with the educated instinct of a witch. The moment the power slammed into her body, she hurled it in the only direction still safe.

Up.

And the top of Star Hall shattered.

With a scream of magic, Mirei summoned what energy she had left and threw a barrier over the dais.

Her barrier failed, but it didn’t matter. More than one witch in the assembled crowd kept her head well enough to sing one into being. The stones and glass that had made up the crossing rained down and were deflected by the layers of energy that sheltered the dais.

Mirei stood, trembling, and watched them fall.

When the last fragments had settled, she took one deep, shuddering breath. Then her legs folded beneath her, and she sat down hard on the surface of the dais.

Across from her, Satomi was weeping.

The other Primes were in equally bad shape. Rana and Arinei were sitting, like Mirei; Shimi and Koika were still standing, but none of them were on their columns of light anymore. Those had vanished at some point, Mirei wasn’t sure when. Possibly when she had hurled the power upward.

A hand touched her shoulder.

She turned to find Eikyo there. And she had no sooner looked at her friend than she was enveloped in a crushing hug.

“Goddess,” Eikyo said into Mirei’s shoulder. “You… I can’t believe it.” She laughed abruptly and lifted her head, looking at Mirei. “Except I kind of can. You never liked taking rules for granted.” She glanced around at the wreckage. “I can’t believe they attacked you.”

Mirei stood unsteadily. “I should have expected it. I just didn’t realize how much it would frighten them, how much…” Her voice trailed off, and she had to cough to get it working again. “Goddess. What a mess.”

She stepped off the dais, employing what will she had left to keep herself on her feet. Rana, Arinei, and Koika she ignored; if there was any trouble left, it would come from Shimi. The Air Prime stared at her as she approached, her eyes wild with shock. Mirei gritted her teeth and managed a bow without falling over. “Shimi-kane. I am sorry for what has happened. I understand that you were doing only what you thought was best.”

The Air Prime didn’t respond. Mirei was not even certain the woman had seen her.

After a moment, Mirei bowed again, turned, and climbed the dais once more. Eikyo stood back as she went to Satomi and knelt at her side.

“I don’t understand,” the Void Prime whispered. For the first time since Mirei had known her, she looked old; exhaustion and pain had drained the color from her face, leaving it bloodless and worn. “You’re right. I know you are. But why didn’t she tell us before? Why let it go on like this, for so long?”

Mirei had no ready answer for that. She had found the solution, but not the reason. “Aken… I’m not a priestess. I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and tried listening. No divine revelation occurred to her, but she did come up with an idea. Whether it would do Satomi any good was questionable. “The clergy tell us that the Goddess, though Mother, is not our mother. She won’t hold our hands and walk us through life. We have to rise and fall on our own successes and mistakes. I’m sure she grieved to see us go wrong, but she wouldn’t do anything to change it. Not until we were ready to listen.”

Satomi shuddered. “That’s harsh.”

It was harsh. Mirei didn’t have anything that would soften it, either.