Marie Brennan - Doppelganger

“Are you nervous?” Narika asked suddenly, rounding on Miryo.

“I beg your pardon, Kai?”

“Nervous. About the testing. It’s only a month away, as I’m sure you know all too well. Are you worried?”

Miryo looked at the witch, considered dissembling, and abandoned the idea. “Yes, Kai. Very much so.”

“I can’t say for certain, of course, but I don’t think you need to be. Well, a little worry won’t hurt you—it will keep you alert—but for the love of the Lady, Gannu made it through. You’re a good student, from what I’ve heard and seen, and level-headed. Don’t fret too much, and do be sure to sleep. You’ll need your energy, if you want to pass.”

“Yes, Kai. I’ll be sure to rest.”

“Do that.” Narika turned again and sent a disapproving look at the sleeping twelve-year-old. “Not, of course, to the detriment of your remaining work.” She sang a short phrase under her breath; Miryo immediately identified it as a simple spell of levitation, with the ending flourish that would fix it for a period of time. She felt no movement of power, of course, and would not until after her test. But she needed no special sense to see the spell’s result; the chair the student was in, and the table her head was resting on, rose smoothly to hover in midair.

Narika turned back to face Miryo. “Have you further studying to do here?” Miryo nodded. “Then tell her, when she wakes, that I will see her an hour after First tomorrow. I don’t side with those who would drive students until they drop, but neither will I tolerate laziness.” That said, the witch disappeared down an aisle and out the door.

Miryo eyed the floating student with some amusement. Narika was unpredictable, but reasonably pleasant, as long as you didn’t cross her. She felt some pity for the girl. With the spell fixed as it was, it would last for at least half a day. The girl would have to find a way down, or be in trouble from her teachers for missing class.

She fetched a book on spells of communication from a back corner of the library and brought it to one of the tables to read. After about three pages, noises from above told her the student was waking up.

The girl stretched, yawning, and rubbed at her eyes. Miryo stifled a snicker. Scratching one shoulder absently, the student opened her eyes blearily and looked around.

And then she looked down.

Miryo’s laughter escaped her as the girl yelped in fright. The poor thing clutched at the arms of her chair, looking panicked. “You’re not up that high,” Miryo said calmly. “You can probably just jump down. Of course, I suggest you remember to take the book with you, or you’ll be in trouble with Tomichu-ai for not returning it to the shelf.”

“I’m afraid of heights,” the girl whispered in a strangled voice.

“I’d say you have a problem, then. You can’t levitate yourself down. If you don’t jump, you’ll have to stay there until the spell fades—which it should do an hour or so after Low, if I’m any judge—and every one of your teachers will assign you extra duties for missing class.” Miryo stood, closing her own book; if the silly chit was going to keep having muffled hysterics up there, she would have to take her reading elsewhere. “That on top of whatever Narika-kai assigns you for falling asleep in the library in the first place. You’re to see her an hour after First tomorrow.”

The girl gave a little wail. From her expression, she’d run afoul of Narika before.

“Look on the bright side,” Miryo continued, smiling. “Even if you can’t find the guts to jump, the spell will fade before you have to meet Narika. I wouldn’t recommend missing that appointment.”

Then she left, shutting the door quietly but firmly on the girl’s rising wails.

Miryo hesitated in one of the hallways of the main building, next to a bust of some long-dead witch. What had seemed like a good idea following the encounter with Narika lost some of its shine now that she was trying to follow through on it.

Come on. She doesn’t bite. I think .

Straightening her back and lifting her chin, Miryo strode forward and knocked crisply on the door of Ashin’s office.

In the silence that followed, Miryo prayed that the witch had not left Starfall again. As the Key for the Air Hand, in charge of the most mobile third of the most mobile Ray, Ashin was gone from the domain more frequently than any other ranking witch, and often with little warning. If Miryo had missed her chance…

Then you’ll talk to her later , Miryo told herself irritably. You haven’t even passed your test yet. If she isn’t here, then you’ll just put the cart back behind the horse, where it belongs .

But as the silence stretched out, Miryo could not shake her feeling of disappointment.

“Can I help you with something?”

Miryo turned to find the very witch she was looking for coming down the hallway toward her with what looked like a saddlebag draped over one arm. The Key stopped abruptly, staring at her. “Miryo, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Kasora,” Miryo said. “That is—I’m sure you must be busy. I can wait until later—”

“No, no, come in,” Ashin said with surprising eagerness. She shifted the saddlebag over to her left arm and dug out the key for her door. “You—that is, you haven’t been tested yet, have you?”

“No, Kasora.” Miryo followed her in hesitantly, and stood with her hands clasped to keep them still as Ashin moved about lighting lamps with quick spells.

“I thought not. I would have remembered the questioning session.” Ashin dropped the saddlebag onto a nearby chair, atop the pile of things already there. Most of the offices Miryo had visited in Starfall were cluttered to one degree or another, but usually with papers; Ashin’s was crowded with all manner of other stuff instead. A lantern, a compass-there was a saddle on the floor. “What do you need?”

“Oh, I don’t—that is, Ashin-kasora, I’m here more for curiosity than anything else. You see, I’m considering joining the Air Hand after my test, and since you’re at Starfall right now, I thought I might take the opportunity to talk to you about that.”

Ashin stopped abruptly again, as she had in the hall. Her voice, when she spoke, was oddly tight. “After your test.”

Miryo hastened to explain. “I’m sorry, Kasora. I know it’s early for me to be thinking about that. But you’re so rarely here—I apologize if I’m overstepping my bounds.”

The Key began moving again, rummaging through piles as if searching for something, only she seemed to have no clear idea what she was looking for. “Oh, no. Not a problem. A lot of students start thinking about it early. It’s good to be optimistic, I suppose.”

Optimistic ? Miryo’s nerves returned full force. No one would ever quote an exact statistic on how many witches failed the test. It wasn’t many; she knew that much. But Ashin’s words were hardly encouraging.

Ashin glanced up and must have seen something on Miryo’s face, because she smiled. Was it Miryo’s imagination, or was the smile forced? “You’ll be fine, I’m sure. The questioning is nothing to worry about; we just want to make sure you know what you need to, before you go into the test.”

But the questioning wasn’t what she’d been referring to a moment before. Miryo laced her cold fingers together. “Kasora—”

“After your test, why don’t you come visit me again? We can talk then about your Ray and Path. The Air Hand might be an ideal place for you. You’ll know better afterward, though.”

And again that edge of artificiality. As if Ashin were not half so sanguine as she was trying to appear.

What did she know that Miryo didn’t?