Warrior and Witch (4 page)
“Then the two girls training here,” Jaguar said, “are the same.”
“Yes.”
He’d known they were like Mirage in their physicality, their knack for the art of fighting, but not what it had meant. Jaguar looked intently into her eyes. “Why are you here? Just to explain?”
“They’re in danger.”
Finally, slowly, he backed off. The knife left her throat, and he lowered the arm that had her pinned. He did not put the blade away, though, and Mirei knew he still practiced knife-throwing every day.
“I thought they might be,” Jaguar said. “Tell me more.”
After Mirei was gone, Satomi leaned her forehead against the cool glass of her window and let her breath out slowly.
She prayed to the Goddess that this was not the start of new, worse trouble—but she feared otherwise.
Lifting her head, she could see out across Starfall, both the sprawl of buildings too loose to call a town and the domain that went by that name. Pale gray granite blocks quarried from these mountains, the multihued greenery of the trees beyond. Her office faced north, toward the rest of the world. She’d chosen the view deliberately. Her predecessor as Void Prime had used a room on the south side of the main building; her predecessor had believed the outside world was not her concern as Void Prime.
To some extent, the woman had been right. The Void Ray dealt with the internal affairs of the witches; the world outside their own people was the responsibility of the other Rays. But for a long time the Void Prime had also been the linchpin of the Primes as a whole, and that meant, in Satomi’s opinion, that she could not afford to ignore the rest of the world.
She gazed out at Starfall, breathing slowly to center herself. This was her home, and had been for nearly as long as she could remember. She’d spent the first ten years of her life in Haira, but then, like all witch-students, she had come here for her real training. Since then, she had hardly left. Fifteen years of studying, before being tested as a witch. Then the hunt for her doppelganger. Finding it at last in Liak.
Not it
. Her.
Her name was Orezha
.
Then returning here after Orezha’s death, and entering the Path of the Head in the Void Ray, dedicating her life to research and recordkeeping. Advancement to the position of Key of her Path, overseeing all the Head witches of her Ray. And finally, promotion to Void Prime, the leader of an entire fifth of Starfall—and, in a sense, the leader of all witches, whatever their affiliation.
For the first time, Satomi felt old.
Her health was still good, and her hair showed no strands of white yet, but she wasn’t sure she had the energy to cope with the upheaval Mirei had brought. But what other choice did she have? Not retirement; the last thing the community of witches needed right now was to lose a Prime. And Satomi had no illusions about the prevailing attitudes about this situation; she was far and away Mirei’s strongest supporter. The confrontation in Star Hall had staggered everyone, and to varying degrees it had convinced them—but not entirely. Satomi had to make sure that conviction grew, instead of fading. Starting with her fellow Primes.
Satomi stepped away from the window and straightened the plain black silk of her dress. They would not like that she had sent Mirei off without consulting them, not least of all because it meant she had told the young witch before she told
them
. But she could not let the discussion get bogged down in that. The real issue at hand was not what to do with the doppelgangers, but what to do with Shimi.
She left her office and went through the hallways to their council room. Unlike the ruling hall, where the Primes settled disputes and pronounced judgments, this place was not meant to impress; it was a working space, and practical. A large table dominated the room, with five comfortable chairs spaced around it, and a wealth of lamps provided light. The chairs might be carved with the Elemental symbols of the five Rays, but that was the only decoration, and the cushions were worn besides. The room itself was layered in permanent spells, protecting it against eavesdropping or anything that might disrupt the Primes’ meetings.
Satomi put down the books she was carrying and settled into her own chair to wait. She was reading Shimi’s letter yet again when the other Primes began to come in.
Rana arrived first, looking sleepy. Oldest of the Primes, her wispy bun of hair had gone solidly white. People had been murmuring for years now about the possibility of her retirement, but she’d been in the position of Water Prime for so long that few could imagine her gone, and besides, she still did her job well. Ministration to the common people of other lands, the province of her Ray, was not the most glamorous of Starfall’s work, but it did require a diligent hand.
Not long after that, Koika showed up, her stocky form dressed in simple breeches and shirt as always. She gave Satomi one of her usual broad smiles, but it faltered when Satomi failed to return it in kind. “What’s wrong?”
Satomi shook her head at the Earth Prime’s question. “We’ll wait for everyone to arrive.”
Arinei came last, and Satomi wondered if she had timed it that way, because the Fire Prime entered in a well-staged fury.
“Why did you not tell us?”
Most Primes came from the Heart, the Path dedicated to organization and administration, but Arinei had been a Hand. Advising the Lord of Insebrar, she had learned to play her emotions like a lyre, manipulating those around her with carefully calculated extremes. Satomi did not disapprove; it was a useful trick. But she had also learned not to be cowed by it.
“About Shimi? By the time I finished with my necessary tasks, it was time for this meeting anyway.”
“Necessary
tasks
? This isn’t the yearly accounting, Satomi.”
Calm was its own kind of weapon, as much as Arinei’s crafted volatility. “No. It is, however, the disobedience of a witch to the wishes of Starfall. Which makes it first and foremost my responsibility.”
Koika was frowning; Arinei was seething. “So you’ve already dealt with it, I hear,” the Fire Prime said. “Sent Miryo off, dispatched Cousins and witches—is there anything left for us to do?”
“
Mirei
,” Satomi said coldly, pronouncing the name with edged clarity. “You might do well to remember her name, since her existence is the source of our current complications. And yes, there is much yet to be done.” She passed Shimi’s letter to Koika, who sat at her left. “For those whose unofficial spy networks haven’t already informed them of what’s happened.
“Shimi is gone, and by her words, we have to assume she poses a threat to a dozen students, both here and at our regional halls—and also to the doppelganger halves of those students. That threat is what I’ve been dealing with this morning. The students have been made safe, and the doppelgangers are being gathered in.”
Now Rana was reading the letter, her eyes widening with shock at the harshness of the words. Satomi went on. “That, however, is treating the symptoms, rather than the problem. We must mend this breach with Shimi.”
“I assume we can’t find her,” Rana said, offering the letter to Arinei, who ignored it.
Satomi shook her head. “She’s warded herself against it.” Which was, in itself, a serious violation of her duties as the Air Prime. The witches of her Ray were itinerant, serving anyone they found in need, which made it all the more imperative that they be able to locate and communicate with their Prime when they needed her.
“She might go back to Kalistyi,” Koika said.
Arinei snorted. “Or anywhere
but
Kalistyi, since she knows we’ll look for her there.”
The fines in Rana’s brow furrowed even more deeply. “If she’s warded, she might be under a disguise spell, too. If she goes to ground, we’ll never find her.”
Satomi shook her head again. “She won’t go to ground. Think of what kind of woman Shimi is. Do you really think she would be content to register her disagreement with us, and then simply retire from the situation?” No woman that passive would ever have risen to the rank of Prime.
“So what do we do?” Koika asked. “Put out word for all witches and Cousins across the fifteen domains to look for her?” She grimaced at her own words. “We might as well hire Hunters to chase her down like a criminal.”
The statement produced an unpleasant silence in the room. They’d done that once before, and not long ago, hiring a Wolfstar assassin to murder one of the Fire Keys. For, ironically enough, believing that doppelgangers should not die.
Satomi steered them away from the memory, before it could spark new arguments. “Shimi is in dereliction of her duty, and in rebellion against the will of Starfall. We agreed days ago on the message we sent out to all of our people—”
“Shimi disagreed,” Arinei pointed out, her expressive mouth settling into a hard line.
“But the consensus was in favor of the message. Four against one; she was overruled, and that means she’s bound to abide by our decision. We agreed to support Mirei’s new way, and to instruct all witches to do the same. If Shimi wanted to register her continued disagreement, there were acceptable ways for her to do so. This is not one of them.” Satomi flicked the letter Rana had returned to her. “Therefore, we must temporarily suspend her authority over her Ray.”
Arinei’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean,
suspend
? We can do that?”
Satomi picked up one of the books on the table before her. Her own experience as a member of the Path of the Head had been useful this morning. “There’s precedent. Most recently—though by normal standards it’s not recent at all—was Dotoku, Prime of the Fire Ray, just over three hundred years ago. Her political activities became, well, suspect; you can read about them if you’d like. Censure and suspension of authority requires the agreement of the other four Primes. Reinstatement—and Dotoku
was
reinstated—requires three.”