Warrior and Witch (7 page)

Then, with a chill as if someone had poured cold water down her back, she thought, very distinctly:
I can’t let Jaguar know that. He finds out his best trainees are also unkillable
—
and why
—
then he won’t give them up, not for anything
.

“When this business is done,” Jaguar said. “Will you bring them back?”

Mirei hesitated. Eventually, the girls would have to rejoin with their witch-halves. That wouldn’t be for years, though, given the way Starfall trained its daughters; there would be time for the Hunters to finish their own educations. But that assumed Starfall would let them go.

She had waited too long. Jaguar’s face was settling into hard lines, reading her answer in her silence.

“Maybe,” she said, before he could tie himself too strongly to that conclusion. “I can’t give you a better answer than that; I’d be lying if I did. I want to bring them back. I will if I can. But I don’t know how long this trouble will last, and what will happen along the way, and what the other witches will want to do.”

“Those girls belong to us as much as to them.”

Did they? The two here had less than a year of Silverfire training under their belts, while they owed their entire existence to the magic of Starfall. But once you entered a Hunter school, you belonged to them, until—unless—they chose to let you go.

She looked up into Jaguar’s cold, light eyes. “See it this way, if you can,” she said quietly. “They’re still in Silverfire hands. Because I’m one of your own. And I’ll take care of them.”

He met her gaze, unblinking. Mirei knew she had always held a special position in Jaguar’s regard. It was not necessarily a privileged one, not in the sense of lenience; he’d held her to the highest standards when she was in training here. But he had allowed her into Silverfire years late because of the promise he saw in her. That promise was gone now, lost in the merging with Miryo. Would he still trust her as he once had?

Would he still see her as a Silverfire?

“Train them,” he said at last. “They are born of the Warrior, as you were. That may not last, but while it is there, it should not be wasted.”

She nodded. “I will.”

“Then you may take them,” Jaguar said, and went to the door to tell Slip, while Mirei prayed to the Goddess that she would be able to keep her promise.

The runner spoke quietly to Briar, but the first-year trainees were already learning the fine art of eavesdropping. “You’re in trouble,” Tanich hissed at Indera, leaning under his horse’s neck. “You’re getting hauled in before the Grandmaster. He’s going to rake you over the coals for being such a snot.”

“Idiot,” Indera whispered back at him, looking superior. “The Grandmaster doesn’t bother himself with stuff like that. It’s a
privilege
to go see him.” But inside, her guts twisted. A group of her year-mates had jumped her the other night; had the Grandmaster heard about that? Scuffling in public was an offense, but private fights like the one in their dormitory were common, and ignored. Surely she couldn’t be in trouble for that.

“You’re just jealous,” she added, mostly to see Tanich glare at her, but also because it was true. They all hated her, every one of them, because she was better. Stronger and faster and a better fighter; she’d taken Lesya down in two heartbeats the other day. They
needed to
jump her in a group, or she would win. And she didn’t bother to suck up to them the way that stupid cow Amas did.

“Indera.” The runner had gone, and now the elderly Hunter who was supervising their tack lesson in the stable was looking at her. “Amas. Grandmaster’s office, now. Leave your horses as they are.”

Indera’s heart thrilled when he called her name, but her enthusiasm faded when she heard Amas being added. Was this a good thing, or not? Couldn’t be about the scuffle the other night, or they wouldn’t be calling that prig along with her. So what
was
it about?

She didn’t have time to stop and consider it. No one kept the Grandmaster waiting. The two trainees left the stables immediately, side by side, and crossed the compound in the growing heat of the morning.

“I bet he has something special for us,” Indera said, to cover up her nervousness. She had to scurry to keep up with her long-legged year-mate, and it irritated her. “We’re being promoted to the second year. Or even the third. Because we’re better than everybody else.”

“We’re stronger,” Amas said in her soft voice. She never spoke loudly, or sounded angry. It drove Indera up the wall, like everything else about her. “We’re faster. We’re good at fighting. That doesn’t make us
better
.”

“We’re Hunters. Stronger and faster is all that matters.”

“We’re
trainees
, and you’re wrong.”

Indera slowed enough to glare at Amas’s back. What she wouldn’t give to beat the spit out of the other girl—but she couldn’t. The masters used to put the two of them together for sparring, and Indera knew firsthand the knack Amas had for kick attacks. With the other girl’s long legs, it meant that Indera couldn’t get inside her reach. A real fight between them… Indera wanted to believe she would win, but she couldn’t be sure. Not like she could with the others.

If she wants to act like she’s the same as everybody else, that’s her problem
, Indera thought spitefully.
She can be a dog. I’m a wolf. I’m going to be the best Hunter Silverfire’s ever had. Better than Mirage, even
.

They reached the building, were waved up the stairs by Slip, and walked into the Grandmaster’s office.

“Mirage!” Indera blurted, forgetting even to salute the Grandmaster behind his desk.

Amas didn’t forget. Indera hastily copied her, flushing in embarrassment, and hoping that her idol didn’t notice.

It
was
Mirage. No other Hunter in the world had hair like that, flame-colored and cropped short in a Hunter’s practical cut. She was in a Hunter’s uniform, much like the trainee uniform Indera herself wore, and the body inside was lean and hard. Indera envied her long-fingered, capable hands, with their calluses and strong tendons, and wondered how soon she would look like that herself. This woman was the epitome of everything Indera wanted to be. Indera had never thought she would actually
meet
her, not this soon. Not until she was older, mostly trained, ready to claim a new name as a full Hunter.

Mirage was eyeing her—
eyeing both of you
, a corner of Indera’s mind murmured, but nevermind that—with cool gray eyes that betrayed nothing of what she was thinking. Indera stood bolt upright, hoping the woman noticed her own hair. Amas dyed hers, to hide the color that made people whisper about witches, but Indera’s was its natural red-brown.

The Hunter glanced away from them without saying anything and nodded to the Grandmaster. “All right. I’ll keep you informed, as best as I can.” Her voice was melodious and polite. The sound of it made Indera shiver.

“Very well,” Jaguar said. He had not told the trainees to stand at ease; they stood rigidly just inside the door. The Grandmaster rose and came to stand before them.

“You’re going to go with Mirage,” he said. “You both know who she is. Do what she says, when she says, without hesitation or argument. Treat her like she’s one of your training-masters. If either of you disobeys her in the slightest, she has the authority to punish you however she sees fit. And when you return, you’ll be punished for it a second time. So don’t disobey.”

Indera waited, hardly breathing, trying to figure out what he meant by tins.
We’re going with her? Where? And why
?

“You may be young,” the Grandmaster said at last, “but you are of Silverfire. Don’t dishonor that.”

“Yes, sir,” Amas murmured, and Indera echoed her blindly. Could this mean what she thought it did?

Mirage stood and saluted Jaguar. He nodded to her, then turned back to his desk. “Come with me,” the Hunter said. Indera sketched a hasty salute and followed her out, dizzy with joy.

As she went around the Silverfire compound, gathering the supplies she needed, Mirei wondered what she had gotten herself into.

Two doppelgangers, in the abstract, were a simple enough idea. She could manage two doppelgangers. Somehow, though, she’d failed to realize that what she was really taking on board were two eleven-year-old girls, one of whom very clearly had a bad case of hero worship. It was flattering, in a way, but also unnerving. The last time she’d dealt with trainees for any real length of time, she’d been one herself, and then they’d been more occupied with giving her nasty looks than idolizing her.

Mirei left the two girls outside while she spoke to the quartermaster and the armorer. The latter stop was, as far as she was concerned, the more important one. She could keep herself fed through scrounging if she had to, but her pack of useful supplies had vanished with Eclipse, and things like sleeping oil and flash powder were not to be found by the side of the road.

The quartermaster promised to send her requirements to the stables. Mirei carried the special supplies herself, and found the rations already there. Slip must have sent a runner, too, because Briar had three horses waiting to be saddled.

“Where’s Mist?” he demanded of Mirei, suspicion chiseled into every line of his old face. Mirage had accused him once of caring more about the mare than about her, and he’d agreed.

“In Angrim,” Mirei said.
Assuming Wisp hasn’t sold her off, out of irritation for me vanishing like that
. “Resting. She needs it.”

“Where’s the horse you came in on?”

“Didn’t come on a horse. Why do you think I need one now?” Mirei didn’t want him continuing that line of questioning, so she turned to the trainees and nodded at the tack. “Saddle them.”

The last bags of supplies came while the girls were fumbling their way through the task. Mirei took them from the quartermaster’s assistant and dumped their contents out onto the ground, sorting through them and tossing various pieces to the trainees. “Put those on when you’re done.”

She realized, halfway through stripping off her own uniform, that while she was long since used to the communal bathing of Silverfire, the other two were new enough to be self-conscious. Mirei suppressed the urge to grin at their expense, and then lost all amusement when she realized her silver pendant had swung free. She caught it quickly and tucked it back into the shirt the quartermaster had provided.
I hope no one noticed that
.

The girls didn’t seem to have, and Briar was checking their work on the horses. The taller girl—must be Amas; she had the dyed hair—brushed at the long vest she wore over a pair of wide-legged trousers, expression puzzled. The stockier girl, Indera, was looking dubiously at a head scarf. “Askavyan
. peasant women
?” she said.

Good on her for recognizing it
. “That’s the idea,” Mirei said. She covered her own hair and tied the scarf in a tight knot. “Put your old clothes in the saddlebags, and get them lashed on.” Briar had finished checking the horses; as he turned to her, Mirei said, “I know, I know. I lame these horses, and you’ll lame me. Permanently. They’ll be fine.”

He cracked a brief grin. “Get you going, then.”

Disguised as Askavyan peasant women, the three of them rode out through the gates of the Silverfire compound, and Mirei wondered what she had just let herself in for.

They hadn’t gone far before Mirei caught sight of someone lurking among the trees, watching them.

“Wait here,” Mirei said, and heeled her gelding off the road.

The woman she’d spotted tried to run, which she should have expected. Mirei pulled the scarf off her head, hoping it would help; if the woman was Shimi’s spy, then it probably wouldn’t make matters worse, and if she was Ashin’s, then she might stop.

She stopped. Mirei didn’t press her luck, but halted the gelding well back, holding her hands out unthreateningly. They were concealed from the road by a fold in the land at this point, so she didn’t have to worry about the girls watching.

“I’m Mirei,” she said, and drew out the pendant as evidence.

The woman nodded nervously. She didn’t look like a witch, but Mirei would have laid money on her being under a disguise spell. “Gichara,” she said. “Water Hand. Ashin sent me to watch the girls here.”

“So I guessed,” Mirei said dryly. “You’ve been seen. More than once, or do you have friends here?”

Gichara shook her head. “No, just me. Never been much good at sneaking. I told Ashin, but she said I was closest—my town’s in central Miest—and we needed the girls kept safe.”

“They will be,” Mirei said. “Ashin told the Primes where to find them, and so we’re bringing them all in. The one who isn’t safe is
you
. Get out of here before the Hunters decide to chase you down. It’s all being taken care of.”

Looking relieved, Gichara nodded. When she’d moved off through the trees, Mirei didn’t return immediately to the road. As long as she had privacy, there were a few things she should do.

First and foremost was the spell that would block any attempt to find her magically. She didn’t need to protect Amas or Indera; spells of that kind couldn’t locate doppelgangers or their witch-halves. From a magical standpoint, they were one person in two places at once. But now that she was a single person again, Mirei could be found, and she didn’t want Shimi tracking her to the doppelgangers.