Warrior and Witch (53 page)

The debate over what to do now that they knew where in Kalistyi to strike promised to go on for long enough that Satomi sent word down to the kitchens for food.

The council room was crowded with women: Satomi and Koika, plus an assortment of Keys and Cousins. Mirei, frustrated by the interminable disagreements, had left to take care of Urishin, though she promised to return later. Satomi dearly wished the young witch could take a force of people straight to Kalistyi; it would be the most effective solution. It just wasn’t possible, though. Any attacking force would have to come by another route. The debate was mostly over what size that force should be: a small one, slipping in quickly to take out the leaders, or a large one, sent to subdue the entire area. That, and how they were going to get there.

“We could go in either through Liak or Abern,” Kekkai said dubiously, tracing the various passes on the map. “But that requires getting cooperation from those domains.”

“Plus everyone else we’d have to march through on the way there,” Churicho pointed out.

Rin was shaking her head even before they were done. “Too slow. You’d be lucky to get there by spring. Arranging diplomatic permissions, then an overland march in winter, through the mountains—they’d be gone long before you ever got there.”

“But we’d know where they went to,” Churicho said to the Cousin. “We can track where they go.”

“Which only delays the issue.”

Koika pushed through the women surrounding the map and stared at it for a moment. Then a grin spread across her face. “So don’t go overland. Go around.” Her hand swooped around the map’s edge, through the sea and around to Kalistyi.

The suggestion produced a thoughtful, startled silence.

“In winter?” Rin said at last, disbelieving.

“With witches on board?” Koika smirked at her. “Weather manipulation happens to be a specialty of my Ray. The boats won’t sink. And I can guarantee they’d make
very
good time.”

The debate segued into the logistics of how they would get sufficient ships, during which a few Cousins—casting awed, confused glances at their fellows who had been included in the council—brought up trays of soup, bread, and wine. Satomi nibbled on the bread while she watched the discussion, but pushed her soup aside untouched. Tension made her stomach queasy, and salty fish soup did not appeal.

The others tucked in and kept arguing. Before long she steered them back to the other unaddressed question: What to do about the dissidents as a whole?

“Eliminating the leaders is the key step,” Kekkai said around a mouthful of fish. “You’d be amazed how many women are on that side because their Primes are, or their Keys. If there’s no one in
their
chain of command telling them to rebel, some of them will come back.”

“Not all,” Koika pointed out, pessimistically.

“No, but it’s a first step. Then you tell them what their leaders have been doing. Few people will be happy to hear about children being murdered, and the ones who don’t care about that
will
care that Arinei’s sold Starfall out to Kalistyi.”

“But once they’re back, what do we
do
about them?” Churicho asked hesitantly.

Satomi didn’t even have to consider her answer. “We put them on trial.”

A few of the women glanced at her. “Trial, Aken?” Churicho said at last.

Satomi nodded. “There are traditions we need to reconsider, even set aside, but that isn’t one of them. We must do this openly and correctly—not in secret. We take them prisoner, bring them back here, and put them on trial. Not all of them, the ordinary witches, but the Primes and the Keys. Perhaps a few others. If the decision is for execution, then so be it. But we must make that decision by law.”

A knock on the door interrupted her. Naji, who was nearest to it, went and opened it. Ruriko was waiting outside.

“Aken, I’m sorry to disturb you,” the secretary said, and bowed to them all. “But the children would like to speak to you.”

She could only mean one set of children. “Is it important?” Satomi asked.

“I think so. They’re very insistent.”

“Go on,” Koika said, resigned. “We’ll still be chewing this over when you come back.”

Satomi put the heel of her bread down and stood. “Bring them to my office, Ruriko.”

Arriving there, she lit her lamps and wondered what the girls wanted. They knew by now what had happened with Urishin. Were they all going to demand to be tested as well? If so, Satomi would refuse. One trial of faith was enough; the rest could wait.

A tiny flicker of power behind her—and a
thunk
.

On edge as she was, Satomi whirled around ready to attack whatever had made that noise. It took her a moment to realize the sound was from something landing on her desk. Not the usual message scroll: a ragged wooden board.

“What in the…” Satomi murmured, approaching it as if it were a viper about to attack.

It didn’t move. But in the warm glow of the lamps, she saw blood on it.

Writing.

Shimi dead. Dgs at Silverfire.

Starfall not safe.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at the words. So terse, telling her so little—“Shimi dead”? How? “Dgs”—doppelgangers—the ones here, or the ones in Kalistyi? If they were at Silverfire, Mirei must have sent them—but why?

Was it a message from Mirei, or some ruse?

Starfall not safe.

A tapping on her office door nearly made her jump out of her skin. Remaining behind her desk, on guard and ready to lash out, Satomi sang the quick spell that would swing the door open.

Ruriko, on the other side, looked startled that Satomi had not merely told her to come in. Behind her stood four girls, arrayed in pairs: Amas and Hoseki, Lehant and Owairi.

“Where is Mirei?” Satomi demanded, before any of them could speak.

Amas answered her, chin held high with all the conviction and confidence an eleven-year-old could muster. “Aken, she went to Kalistyi. With Urishin. They’re rescuing Naspeth. She told me to tell you.”

Satomi did not have time to curse the headstrong young witch as she wanted to.
Starfall not safe
. “Have the guards reported anything strange?”

Confused, Ruriko said, “No, Aken—I don’t believe so.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t
believe
so.
Find out
.” They scattered out of her way like frightened pigeons as she strode through the door. “Put everyone on alert. There may be something about to happen.”

“What, Aken?” Ruriko asked, hurrying along in her wake.

“I don’t know. But Mirei sent a warning. And I’m pretty sure it
was
from her.” A humorless smile touched Satomi’s lips. “Nobody else would send me a message in blood.”

Gasps from behind her. She ignored them. “Ruriko, go. The rest of you, with me.”

The doppelgangers and witch-students half ran to keep up with her as she swept back to the council room. The corridors were eerily silent; it was late enough that nearly everyone else would be in bed.

Where in the Void was Mirei? Why hadn’t she come back?

Arriving at the council room, Satomi flung open the door—and found chaos within.

The women had collapsed on the floor or where they sat at the table. Rin was one of the few on her feet, clinging to a lamp fixture on the far wall, panting and shaking. Kekkai was nearest to the door, staggering toward it one dogged step at a time. Her head came up when Satomi entered, and her pupils were dilated until the irises of her eyes had vanished.

Satomi stared in horror for a few heartbeats. Kekkai’s legs gave out; she fell to the floor in a heap. Behind her, she heard the girls gasp again.

“Cover your ears,” she said quietly.

Without turning to see if they had obeyed, Satomi sang a spell, and added in the syllables that would magnify its effect as far as she could throw it.

“
ALERT
,” she said, and her voice rang enormously through the halls of Starfall. “
ALERT. THERE HAS BEEN AN ATTACK. ALERT. RURIKO, GET HERE
NOW.
ALL GUARDS OUT. SEARCH STARFALL TAKE PRISONERS IF YOU CAN; KILL IF YOU HAVE TO. ALERT WE ARE BEING ATTACKED
.”

The spell ended. In the resounding silence that followed, Amas whispered from behind her. “Poison.”

Satomi pivoted sharply to face her. “Are you sure?”

The girl was white, but steady. “Mirei’s started teaching us. I don’t know much. It’s probably a poison.”

One that hadn’t affected Satomi? She glanced over her shoulder and saw the bowls of soup, most of them drained.
Misetsu and Menukyo. I’m not a healer. What do you do to treat poison
? She tried to remember back to her days as a student, when they’d made her learn everything.
Vomiting. Induce vomiting
.

Footsteps in the hallway, more than a few. Hopefully some of them would be witches with more experience at healing than she had.

Those who came around the corner, though, were not witches.

At the sight of the Hunters, Satomi knew why it was poison. They had to have witch help—to get past the wards, to find the council room—but the poison was the work of Hunters, designed to cripple them en masse so they could not fight back.

Amas and Lehant stepped in front of Satomi, as if they were going to protect her.

Satomi had not killed anyone since Orezha. She’d rarely been in a position to do so. But now, with these girls in front of her—each doppelganger with her witch, all four together, vulnerable to being killed for good—she didn’t hesitate.

She tore one of the lamps from its hanger by the door and threw it straight at the Hunters. It hit the ground well in front of them, but that wasn’t the point; the point was the flame itself, all the focus she needed for Fire.

The flames roared up off the floor, filling the corridor completely and rushing away from the council room. The effect was blinding, and for a moment the air was hardly breathable. When the worst of it cleared, the walls and floor were still on fire, threatening to spread—but one of the Hunters was still standing.

He threw himself forward out of the fire, uniform smoldering, and rolled to put it out. When he came to his feet he ran straight at them, sword out, and Satomi didn’t have time for another spell.

He didn’t make it to her.

She’d never known Mirage. Nor had she gone to the practices Mirei held; her memories hurt too much for her to watch the girls train. And she’d slipped a knife in Orezha’s back, never giving her a chance to fight.

She had never seen a doppelganger
move
.

Amas and Lehant acted in coordinated unison. One went left, one right, both faster than thought; a foot slammed into the back of the Hunter’s knees while a pair of hands reached for his sword arm. He was a grown man, stronger than a doppelganger child, but he staggered and lost momentum. Amas hung on to his arm while Lehant pivoted on one foot and kicked him in the kidneys. And Hoseki and Owairi moved, too; they ran past, to where the spell had hit, and together snapped off a piece of floorboard, one end on fire.

The man roared and ripped his arm free of Amas’s grip, cutting her along the ribs. She cried out, but kept moving. Lehant kicked him in the stomach even as Amas went for his knees again, this time from the side, and then Owairi threw Lehant the plank; she caught it without looking, as if she knew her double’s every move. She went for the Hunter’s wrist first, striking hard enough that the wood broke. The blade fell from his fingers, and Amas snatched it up.

“Don’t kill him!” Satomi screamed, just in time.

Amas spun in a kick that would have done Mirei proud, knocking the Hunter to his knees, and then clubbed him over the head with the pommel of the sword.

She stared down at the unmoving body, then up at Satomi, wild-eyed with adrenaline. “I only knocked him out,” she said, her voice wavering. “I think. I hit him awfully hard. I hope he’s not dead.”

Then she turned and threw up.

* * *

“Into the council room,” Satomi told the girls. “Close the door. It won’t open from the outside, not to anyone less than a Prime.” Koika was inside, poisoned. If Rana had betrayed them… “I’ll be back, or I’ll send help. Only open the door if they knock in three sets of three. Do you understand?”

Lehant squared her narrow shoulders. “Aken, we can come with you—”

“
Inside
.” Satomi would brook no argument. The council room was the safest place she could think of for them. She waited until they were in and had closed the door before she turned her attention back to the hall.

The flames from Satomi’s attack were spreading, eating through the walls and floor. She sang unsteadily, trying to maintain her pitch, and on the second attempt damped them down until they died out. The remaining patches of floor were too weak to trust, though, and so she had to sing another spell to get across. Without a focus, she couldn’t lift her entire body weight, but she could lighten herself enough not to fall through.

At least it made an effective barrier; no one other than a witch was getting past that section. Satomi cast one glance back at the council room door before moving on.