Warrior and Witch (8 page)
When that spell was finished, she sang another one—to find Eclipse.
The resounding silence in her mind was almost painful.
Shaking her head to clear it, she cast the spell again, this time on Viper, just to be sure she wasn’t making a mistake; this was the first time she’d tried something like this. The spell returned a resonance that read as Silverfire in her mind.
Another try for Eclipse gave her the painful silence again.
So that
, she thought grimly, is
what the blocking spell feels like from the other side
.
Which meant that Eclipse was the prisoner of a witch.
She sat on a tree stump near the gelding and stared at the grass in front of her. She needed to get back to the road—the girls would be wondering where she had gone—but she couldn’t move just yet.
Who could have taken him? She could see only three possibilities: Ashin’s conspirators, Satomi’s people, or Shimi. The former might have done it to keep him safe, but if so, why hadn’t Ashin said something about it already? Why hadn’t she let him go? He had to have gone missing before Shimi left, but she might have sent allies to capture him, once the Cousins were called off.
That, or Satomi had him prisoner, and hadn’t told her.
Mirei chewed on her knuckle for a moment more, then pulled out the parchment Satomi had sent with her. She scrawled a quick note, explaining his disappearance and concealment under a spell, then sang the quick phrase that would send it to Satomi’s matching sheet. If the Void Prime had kidnapped her year-mate, then pretending she didn’t know would not help anything.
But, after a moment’s consideration, she sent the message to Jaguar as well. He had no enchanted page, no mirror she could speak through, but she knew exactly where he was; she wrote out her message in Silverfire’s code on another scrap of paper and dropped it out of the air onto his desk. With no way for him to reply, she had no idea what he was going to do with the information, but at least he had it.
Then she rode back to where she had left the girls.
They were still there, looking horribly confused. Indera said cautiously, “If you please—Mirage—what’s going on? Why did Jaguar send us with you? Are you going to give us special training?”
The name gave her a pang; she didn’t like lying. On the other hand, she had very good reasons for not explaining her transformation just yet. It was going to be hard enough as it was, and she didn’t want to do it more than once.
“No,” Mirei said, in answer to the girl’s question. “That is—Well, Jaguar told me to train you while you’re with me. But it won’t be like you get at Silverfire, practically every waking minute spent on lessons. You’ll just have to pick up what you can, and then I’ll work on combat in the evenings, if we have time. But no, you weren’t sent with me for training.”
“Then what
are
we here for?” Indera asked, a plaintive note in her voice.
How much do they know
? Mirei gave Indera a measuring look, then asked, as a test, “Who were your parents?”
“Um?” Indera had clearly not been prepared for that. “My father’s a carpenter in Gatarha. That’s in Liak. My mother’s an herb-woman. I used to help her, sometimes.”
“Farmers,” Amas said, when Mirei looked at her. “Rice, some oats, and a few sheep. In northern Miest.”
They don’t know a blessed thing. I don’t know if that makes my life easier, or not.
“Right,” Mirei said. “Well, I don’t want to have to explain things multiple times, so you’re going to have to live with curiosity for a while. Short form is, we’re going to Angrim, and while we’re on the way there we don’t want anybody noticing that we’re Hunters if we can avoid it. Hence the disguises.”
“Are we in danger?” Indera asked. She seemed excited by the prospect.
“Just don’t draw attention to yourself. Once we’re done with our business in Angrim, I’ll be able to tell you more.” And Mirei just hoped that, sometime between now and then, she would figure out a way to steal the Thorn-blood trainee.
An uneasy peace reigned over Starfall for the next few days. No one else tried to leave in a manner that blatantly suggested they were fleeing to join Shimi; witches did leave, but they had to. Satomi could not bring the business of Starfall to a halt.
Ruriko came into Satomi’s office one morning, where the Void Prime sat dealing with the backlog of correspondence that had built up in the wake of Mirei’s dramatic arrival. “Aken, there’s someone who wishes to speak with you.”
“Who is it?” Satomi asked, signing off on a revenue report. Misetsu and Menukyo, but she hated dealing with the tedious economic work of keeping this place running. There were witches in the Path of the Head who handled most of it for her, but she still needed to stay informed—however boring she found it.
“Eikyo.”
The name didn’t ring a bell. “Path and Ray?”
“None. She’s a student. A friend of Miryo’s, I’m told, and she and Mirei were spending time together before Mirei left.”
The use of both names caught Satomi’s attention. She paused and looked up at Ruriko. “What does she want?”
“To help, Aken.”
Interesting. She had a meeting with Ashin in less than half an hour; the Hand Key had arrived that morning. Satomi could put off the revenue reports for a while longer, though, to meet with this friend of Miryo’s, and perhaps of Mirei’s, who wanted to help.
“Send her in,” Satomi said, and pushed the reports to one side.
The woman who entered looked faintly familiar. She was a student, yes, but one of the oldest; in fact, Satomi now recognized her as the one next in line for testing. Short, with a compact build that gave her an air of solidity even though she was plainly nervous about a private audience with the Void Prime.
“Aken,” the student said, and sank into a bow.
“You’re a friend of Mirei’s, I’m told,” Satomi said, choosing the name very deliberately.
The slight hesitation before Eikyo’s response illustrated the woman’s carefully chosen words. “In a manner of speaking, Aken. I was a friend of Miryo’s, and Miryo is a part of Mirei. I’m still getting to know Mirei. But I think we could be friends.”
Satomi smiled at the shift in tone at the end. “If I weren’t hauling her into meetings and sending her off on errands, you mean.”
“Not at all, Aken.”
Of course not; Eikyo was clearly too discreet to be so cheeky to the Void Prime. “Ruriko tells me you’d like to help.”
“Yes, Aken. With the… the situation.”
Ah yes. “The situation.” How obliquely we all refer to it
. “Why?”
Eikyo was keeping her eyes on the floor; it looked more like deference and nerves than a desire to hide anything. “Because Mirei asked me to.”
Satomi raised her eyebrows, but Eikyo did not look up to see, so she spoke into the silence. “Oh?”
“Before she left.” Eikyo took a deep breath. “She came to my room to have me cut her hair short like a Hunter’s. She wouldn’t tell me what she was going to do.”
Good
, Satomi thought.
The fewer who know, the better
.
“—but she told me there would be things to do here, and that you would—” Eikyo cut off suddenly.
“I would what?” Satomi said.
“That you would need help, Aken.”
Which is true enough, and I suppose I can’t begrudge Mirei for sending me aid. Goddess knows I
do
need it
. “What do you have to offer in the way of help? I don’t mean that in an accusing fashion. I’d like to know what you can provide.”
Eikyo shrugged uncomfortably. “Not a whole lot, I fear, Aken. I mean, I’m not a witch yet. And there’s only so much I can do without magic.”
But she might be useful among the students, if only Satomi could figure out how. “What are your inclinations? Do you know what Ray and Path you’d like to take?”
“Earth Heart, Aken. I get along very well with animals.”
Which was possibly the least useful answer the student could have made. Satomi didn’t let that show, though. No sense discouraging the woman, even if wildlife was the
one
group she didn’t expect to have problems with. “Well, Eikyo, thank you for coming to me. I’ll have to think about this, and consider what you might be able to do.” Satomi allowed herself a deprecating smile. “I fear I’ll only know what kind of help I need as more problems present themselves. But I’ll contact you if something arises.”
“Thank you, Aken,” Eikyo said, and sank into another bow before leaving.
Satomi sat back in her chair and considered this, tapping her lips with one finger. She hadn’t been politely turning Eikyo off, although the student might have taken it that way. She really
didn’t
know what to do with her at present.
But Satomi was sure she would think of something.
A short while later, Ashin stood on the carpet before Satomi’s desk in an uncomfortable silence.
Satomi broke it by rising from behind her desk and gesturing at a chair to one side. “Please, sit.” She came around and joined the Air Hand Key, deliberately lowering the formality of this meeting.
“It’s good to have you safely back at Starfall,” Satomi began when they were settled.
Ashin’s dark eyes showed wry amusement. “Seeing as how I ran out of here in fear for my life?”