Eclipse was still working in the study, so she turned her attention to the intact parts of the room. None of the walls held compartments she could find, and the same with the floor. The furniture, which the previous searcher had not thought to destroy, was similarly clean. Of course, if she hid anything with a spell, I don’t stand a chance in the Void of finding it.
Standing with her hands on her hips, Mirage surveyed the room and tried to decide if she was missing anything.
“I think you should come look at this,” Eclipse called from the adjoining room.
Grabbing her lantern, Mirage picked her way through the papers to Eclipse’s side. He was holding a scrap of paper, quite small, with something written on it in an illegible scrawl. Eclipse tapped the signature scribbled at the bottom, but try as she might, Mirage could make nothing of it.
“You never could read his writing,” Eclipse said with a grin. “It’s Avalanche.”
Avalanche. Six years their senior at Silverfire; he and Eclipse had been friends despite the gap in their ages. Mirage had never known him well, though, since he graduated not too long after she arrived. She peered at the note and supposed she could see his name in the scribble. “What does it say?”
Eclipse snorted. “Not much. ‘Nakana: Back tomorrow.’”
Mirage blinked, and looked at Eclipse in mystified surprise. “He was working for Tari-nakana?”
“Looks like it.”
Witches hardly ever hire Hunters.
Not that you could tell by their behavior lately. Next Ice’ll show up with a commission of her own. Mirage took the scrap of paper and turned it over in her hands, but there was nothing beyond those three words and Avalanche’s signature. “What could she have wanted him for?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Protection?”
“Could be.” Eclipse cracked his knuckles; there was a gleam in his eye. “We could always ask him.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Not at the moment, but one of our agents might know.”
Mirage looked around at the chaos of the study. “Should we keep going through this stuff?”
“I’m pretty much done in here. Want to switch?”
“Not particularly, but I guess we should.” Mirage stretched and eyed the papers balefully. “Warrior’s teeth—did this woman never throw any papers away?”
“Give her a break. She was a high-ranking witch. This place is no worse than Jaguar’s office would look if you threw everything he owns on the floor.”
Left alone in the room, Mirage scowled at the papers. If only she had some idea of what to look for, searching blind like this was annoying. And the scattered, tiny piles of ash were testament that some important things had already been destroyed. Then she swore. “Kerestel—we’re going to have to check downstairs again, too. If she had anything hidden, she might not have kept it up here.”
“True enough,” he said from the bedroom. “Looks like the last visitor didn’t think of that.”
“Who do you think he was?” she asked as she picked up a stack of papers and flipped through them.
“Not sure. The assassin, maybe; he might have wanted to take away any evidence pointing at his employer. And whoever it was knew to avoid the doctored steps.”
“It doesn’t seem like his style, though. He’s been subtle up until now, so why rip this place apart? Especially since he’s a Hunter. Even assassin specialists are taught to be more delicate than this.”
Eclipse appeared in the doorway. “Who else, then? The employer himself?”
“Maybe.” Mirage moved on to the next stack of papers. They looked like economic reports on the earnings of various Fire witches. “I’m tempted to bag half this stuff and take it with us back to Silverfire. Jaguar would like to know more about the witches.”
“Uh-uh,” Eclipse said, pointing a stern finger at her. “We’re on hire. You don’t spy on your employer.”
“Thornbloods do.”
“And Thornbloods are soulless mercenaries. What’s your point?”
“Fine, fine, I’ll leave the papers here. Go search. If I have to work, you do, too.”
He vanished back into the bedroom, leaving Mirage with the papers. She made it through more than half of them before taking a break. Plenty of interesting things I never knew about the Fire Ray, but nothing that seems relevant. Tari-nakana wasn’t doing anything special that I can see.
She went to the doorway. Eclipse gave her a mock-glare. “If I have to work, you do, too.”
Mirage lifted one lip in a delicate snarl and he grinned. “Okay. What is it?” he asked.
“Why would someone kill Tari-nakana?” she asked.
Eclipse sat back on his heels. “You mean genetically?” He began to tick the reasons off on his fingers. “Revenge for some personal or professional action. Prevention of some personal or professional action she was about to take. Political maneuvering—maybe someone wanted to see a new Fire Heart Key.”
“We need to find out who replaced her.”
“Definitely. And if the new Key has made any significant changes in the Ray’s policy. You done with the papers in there?”
“Not quite. I was going to check the room for compartments, then finish them off.”
“Okay. Then we’ll look downstairs.”
Mirage returned to the study and surveyed the walls and floor. There wasn’t a lot left intact; the searcher had been more thorough—or desperate—in here. She checked nevertheless, and examined the desk as well, but found nothing. With a heavy sigh, she faced the remaining papers and set to work.
A paper covered in scribbled calculations; a personal letter from a Water witch informing her that the cat was doing well in its new home; a list of towns and domains that she scanned quickly. Breiano, Insebrar; Ravelle, Verdosa; Chiero, Teria; Olpri, Haira; a row of question marks; Ansing, Seach; Leswile, Abern. More question marks.
The names were familiar; she’d traveled too much to not recognize them. But why did they ring such a loud bell?
Breiano. Leswile.
Mirage leapt to her feet and went into the bedroom.
Eclipse glanced up, then rose hastily when he saw her eyes. “What is it?”
Wordlessly she thrust the sheet at him.
He scanned it and shrugged. “An itinerary?”
“My itinerary,” she snarled.
“What?”
“Breiano to Leswile. That was the courier run I did, and those are most of the major towns I stopped in along the way. The question marks between Haira and Seach are probably where I cut through the tail of the mountains; they must have lost track of me.” She held up two more sheets, both covered in names. “This is more of the same. She’s been tracking me for years.”
He crossed to her and took the papers. “Why?”
Mirage threw up her hands. “I’m supposed to know?”
Eclipse gave her a careful look. “You’re really upset, aren’t you?”
“Wouldn’t you be? I spend half my time trying to convince people that I have nothing to do with the witches, and now I find out they’ve been tracking my every move!”
“Well, not your every move. It looks like you lost them a few times.” Mirage snarled at him, and he put up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Poor choice of joke.”
Mirage spun away and kicked a wall in fury. The board cracked under her foot.
Eclipse’s hand clamped down on her shoulder. “Calm down, Sen.”
She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. “Sorry. I’ll finish in the study. Then we can go downstairs.”
“Avalanche may know something about this,” Eclipse said, holding up the papers.
“He had better,” Mirage said, her voice still tight. She could practically feel the eyes on her, and it made her skin crawl. “Because if he doesn’t, I’m going to hunt down someone who does.”