Warrior and Witch (52 page)
Clapping one hand over Urishin’s eyes and closing her own, Mirei threw down a small ceramic container. It shattered on the floor, and the resulting flash of light bought them an instant of time, at least. Time enough for her to realize what she’d seen in there, and to make a decision.
But Urishin, without warning, began to sing.
Mirei flowed into motion. Blades out, she sliced into the two Cousins who had been waiting by the door; blinded as they were, they both went down easily. But that wasn’t Mirei’s real aim. Weaving body and voice together, she built a spell, reaching frantically for power around the rippling chaos of Urishin’s naive, untrained, uncontrolled attempt to help,
Oh please Goddess don’t let her kill herself this has got to work PLEASE—
With a wrenching effort that felt like it ripped her own body apart, Mirei slid through Urishin’s spell, seized four bodies, and flung them through the Void.
Leaving herself behind.
The aftermath of Urishin’s attempted magic rattled the walls, splintered tables into kindling, and sent everyone stumbling back.
Mirei collapsed to the floor, retching helplessly, hardly even alert enough to hope that she had just succeeded at getting the girls out of harm’s way—even if she hadn’t moved herself.
Got to get up got to get up she’s
here
I have to get up
—
She felt blows landing on her body, boots hitting her ribs, people attacking her who didn’t realize she wasn’t in any state to be a threat at the moment. Then a voice spoke sharply, cutting them off.
In the quiet, the voice spoke again, and she recognized it. “You’ve achieved nothing. They’re still going to die.” Footsteps on the wooden boards as Shimi came forward. But not too close. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. Mirei writhed on the floor, too weak to rise.
Void-damned
trap
no guards outside she wanted me to come in and used them as bait
—
“Your unnatural magic won’t save them. Starfall isn’t safe. Arinei has seen to that.”
What would have been a laugh turned into a gut-wrenching fit of coughing, which was probably just as well.
Good thing I accidentally sent them elsewhere, you bitch
.
Goddess, please tell me it worked.
And then, penetrating the fog of her disorientation—
Starfall isn’t safe ?
Hands on her, taking away her weapons, wrenching her arms behind her back, yanking her more or less upright. Mirei’s vision cleared to reveal Shimi standing before her.
The intervening time hadn’t been kind to the former Air Prime. Lines scored her face, which had gone even thinner and harder than before. She looked exhausted. But her pale eyes burned with energy enough to keep her going, and hatred enough to kill Mirei where she knelt.
“You are a
monster
,” Shimi hissed, literally spitting the words in Mirei’s face. “A taint on the face of the Goddess’s creation. An abomination in her eyes. You serve your twisted Warrior and cloak it in piety, you—”
Mirei gathered enough strength to cut her off. “Do you think you’re going to
convert
me, Shimi? Save the theology lecture and just kill me already.”
And when the former Prime’s face contorted in rage, Mirei ripped herself free of the Cousin’s grasp and threw herself forward.
She didn’t have the blindest idea what she thought she would accomplish, other than knocking Shimi down. Not with other Cousins in the room. There would be no escape, no wending her way back through the chaos of the town to the cold woods outside, and she couldn’t hope to jump by magic. She doubted she could manage even the simplest spell at the moment.
But if she could find a way to kill Shimi, then as the Warrior was her witness, she was going to do it.
They crashed to the floor, and as Mirei grappled with the woman, she heard shouts, thumps, a scream of pain. Not from Shimi. Mirei rammed with knees and elbows, twisting, scratching, yanking at the Prime’s hair, anything to prevent a spell, and then another body fell on top of them, and she realized that something else was happening in the room.
She turned her head to look, and Shimi, by accident or design, slammed an elbow into her head.
Mirei’s grip slackened, and the woman slipped free. But when the stars faded from her vision, she saw bodies on the floor—Cousins, fallen in bloody pools amongst splintered wood—and someone else.
Eclipse.
The Hunter stood, reddened blades in his hands, and he was staring at her in stark horror. Blood dripped from his right fist down to the floor—not dripped, poured. It grew stronger as she watched, as if some wound were opening up beneath the sleeve of his uniform.
Singing. Shimi was casting a spell. Pivoting where he stood, Eclipse threw his knife, and the tune died off in a vicious curse.
Mirei grabbed the edge of a nearby table and hauled herself to her feet, holding on desperately so she wouldn’t collapse.
“Mirei,” Eclipse said in a painful mimicry of a conversational tone. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Eclipse,” she whispered. Her eyes were on Shimi, who was pulling a knife from her thigh.
Bad aim
, she thought irrationally.
He needs to practice
.
He needs to not be bleeding.
“Just came to kill
her
,” he went on, nodding at the witch. “Figured if I was going to die, I might as well try. What did I have to lose? Got some help along the way. Nice women, they were. Cousins.” His voice was wandering, fading. With a shocking clatter, his sword slipped from his fingers and hit the floor. Mirei’s heart lurched. Eclipse would never drop his sword.
He’s dying.
Shimi opened her mouth to sing again.
Weaponless, Mirei flung herself forward once more, across the intervening space and at the woman who had, through her manipulations, killed the person dearest to her in the world.
The stiffened edge of her hand struck Shimi in the throat, crushing the woman’s windpipe two syllables into the spell.
She knew, as she did it, that this was the moment to try. Offer Shimi’s life up to the Warrior, in exchange for Eclipse. It might work. It was the only thing that could, now. She had no other way to save him.
But she wouldn’t make that trade.
She struck to kill, but not in sacrifice. She killed Shimi because of all the damage the woman had wrought, the other lives wasted besides Eclipse’s. Falya and Yimoe, Chaiban and Serri, little Chanka and Anness. Sharyo, dead at Indera’s hand. Ashin. She killed Shimi because the woman had perverted so many of their ways, splintering Starfall, warping the blood-oath, murdering children for her cause. A trial would condemn her to death, but Mirei lacked the strength to take her back for one, and if she didn’t kill Shimi then Shimi would kill her.
But she would not offer the woman’s life to the Warrior, because it wasn’t hers to give.
She killed Shimi, and knew she had lost Eclipse as well.
Three bodies hit the floor at once. Shimi convulsed, clawing at her throat, choking to death. Mirei rolled free of her, dizzy, and crawled across to where Eclipse had fallen.
He was white with blood loss. Mirei clamped her hand over the oath-scar on his wrist, but it did no good. Nothing would stop him bleeding; even if she could manage a healing spell, it wouldn’t make a difference. She could not save him.
He managed a shaky smile. “It would’ve killed me anyway, even if you weren’t here. Guess I’m glad you are. Get to say good-bye.”
She stared down at him, seeing him with two gazes, two sets of memories overlapping. To Mirage he was so familiar, so loved, but too close to be seen as anything other than a brother. To Miryo, he was a newcomer in her life, but valued and trusted—a friend—because Mirage had always trusted him.
Both at once. Familiar and not. Too close and too far. In between them, in the blending of her memories, a middle ground. She would have explored it, given time, and she knew he would have, too.
But they weren’t going to get a chance.
Mirei let go of his hand long enough to grab a piece of wood from one of the tables broken by Urisbin’s magic. There was plenty of blood available; she dipped her fingers in it and scrawled her message in a few short words.
Shimi dead. Dgs at Silverfire.
Starfall not safe.
Everything she knew. It wasn’t enough; she didn’t know what Shimi had meant. Were there more traitors in Star-fall? What had Arinei done? Questions she didn’t have answers to. She had to hope others could deal with them.
With what remained of her energy, Mirei sang the board to Satomi’s desk.
She wasn’t getting out of here anyway.
Mirei bent her head and kissed Eclipse gently. For the first time, and the last. She wished they’d had more time. But she would do what she could for him.
“You’re not going to die,” she said.
The prayer she sent up was resigned.
You probably won’t take this. I doubt I could get out of here alive anyway, so it’s not much of a trade. But damn it
—
he deserves to live, even if he did swear the oath falsely. He’s dying for my sake
.
And I’ve done a
lot
for you. So I guess this isn’t so much a request as a demand
.
If you really do take trades
—
then take me
.
“What—” Eclipse whispered, near-soundlessly, as she slipped one of his knives from his boot, and he tried to grab her hand. But he was too weak; he couldn’t stop her.
Mirei placed the point of the knife under her chin, then shoved the blade upward.
