Miryo had argued against the uniform. But Mirage had wanted to wear it, for a variety of reasons. It made her look more intimidating, for one thing; people had trouble dealing with a faceless woman. And given what they were planning, a little intimidation couldn’t hurt. Besides, she preferred to be in uniform for situations like this. It put her in the right mind-set, and gave her confidence. Which also couldn’t hurt.
“Where are you?” Miryo whispered, glancing around.
Mirage slid right up behind her. “Here.”
Miryo jumped. “Goddess. I can’t see you in this blackness. Were you there all along?”
“Yes,” Mirage lied.
Miryo shook her head and walked on.
Behind her, Mirage grinned to herself. It wasn’t very nice, playing with her double’s mind like that, but she couldn’t resist.
One last corner, and then they were there. Mirage waited as Miryo cocked her head to one side. The witch hummed softly, then nodded. “It’s a simple ward,” she whispered. “An alarm, nothing more. She won’t know who we are.”
Mirage nodded. “Let’s go, then.”
They crossed the boundary swiftly and sped to the door. Mirage waited, motionless, listening with all her skill for footsteps. They came, at last, and she tensed her muscles.
The Cousin who opened the door never stood a chance.
She wasn’t fight-trained, like the ones Miryo had with her in Angrim; she was a simple maid. Mirage had a hand over her mouth before she even finished opening the door.
“Fetch your mistress,” Mirage said in a low voice. Behind her, Miryo was keeping back, the hood of her cloak pulled low. “Tell her there are visitors. Nothing more than that. If you say anything else, it’ll go badly for you. Do you understand?”
The Cousin nodded convulsively.
“We’ll be in the sitting room. Now go,” Mirage said, and released her.
The woman fled. Mirage led the way into the house, Miryo on her heels, and searched for the sitting room. It didn’t take long to find; the house was not large. Glancing about, Mirage suspected that it, like the house in Ravelle, was the home of a witch. Whether or not it was the property of the woman they were meeting tonight remained to be seen.
Enough speculation. Mirage stepped back as Miryo seated herself in the most impressive chair in the room. By the way it was positioned, their contact had obviously meant it to be her own seat, when they came at the appointed time later tonight. Mirage stationed herself behind it, and then they waited.
Before long, she caught the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs. Two sets, one of which—the Cousin’s—scurried away down the hall. The other stopped for a moment, then continued on with a more measured, deliberate tread. And then the door swung open.
“What do—” she said, but she got no further.
Miryo stood up, and it was clear by the look on the other witch’s face that she recognized her, but had not expected to see her here. She had taken the time to put on the illusion, Mirage saw, despite the fact that it had been compromised in Ravelle. She must not want her real appearance known. Mirage didn’t blame her.
“What are you doing here?” the witch said. She had recovered her composition admirably.
“We have questions for you,” Miryo said, and Mirage took a step forward.
The witch’s eyes shot between the two of them. And then they widened hugely. “Dear Goddess. You—”
Then, to Mirage’s surprise, she began to laugh. Wryly, not hysterically; she leaned back against the door frame and smacked one hand against the wall. “What beautiful luck. We hire Hunters, and don’t even realize who one of them is. I wish you people wouldn’t wear masks.” Then she straightened and looked at Mirage. “What do you say we trade? You take off the mask, and I’ll drop the illusion. Deal?”
Miryo glanced back to Mirage, who gave her an imperceptible shrug. She could see no harm in it.
“Excellent,” the witch said, as Mirage reached up to remove her mask. And the illusion vanished from her face.
“Ashin!” Miryo blurted. And then a muttered “kasora,” as if she couldn’t decide whether to include it or not.
So this is Ashin. Mirage supposed the odds worked out; this wasn’t either of the two previous witches, and she doubted there were many of them in this group. One hurdle cleared, then.
“So,” Ashin said, brushing her hair back from her high-boned face, quite unlike the face of the illusion. “It looks like we both got a surprise.” She looked at them and shook her head wonderingly. “It’s amazing. You really do look the same. You would, of course, but it’s one thing to know that, and another thing entirely to see you standing side-by-side.” She gestured for them to sit. “Well, Miryo, I said I’d talk to you after your test. I guess now is the time.”
“So you didn’t know who you’d hired?” Mirage asked the Air Hand Key.
Ashin shook her head. “No. It was stupid of us, but Tari was the only one who knew where you were. It seemed safer that way—we couldn’t betray you—but then when she died, we lost you completely. We went ahead and hired Silverfires, but with you and your partner always wearing masks, we had no idea who we had. It was pure chance that we got you.” She paused. “Or maybe not. You’re good—or so I’m told—so it makes sense that your Grandmaster chose you.”
Technically he’d chosen Eclipse, but that didn’t mean Jaguar didn’t have her in mind. “Would you have hired me, if you had the choice?”
“I haven’t thought about it. Maybe, since you’re involved anyway. It doesn’t matter, though; it’s not something I can go back and change.”
Straightforward, just as Miryo said. I hope she isn’t the brains of this operation; she seems to be a good person, but she’s not nearly devious enough to run a subversive campaign. “Did you know the Primes were behind the assassination when you hired us?”
Ashin flinched visibly. “You’re sure of it, then?” Mirage nodded. “We suspected, but we weren’t sure. That’s why we hired Hunters; we needed to be sure. Void.” She sighed. “Well, I don’t think anyone will be surprised to hear it’s true.”
“They killed Tari-nakana because of this, then,” Miryo said.
“Of course. Well, sort of. They’d found out that Tari knew about a living doppelganger. It happens, sometimes, that a child somehow slips through, but a witch who finds out about one is supposed to report it. Tari didn’t, which meant that she was entertaining heretical ideas. They had her killed to prevent her from causing further trouble.”
Electric fire shot up Mirage’s right arm, making her clench her hand.
What in the Void was that?
A tension she hadn’t even realized existed melted out of her bones, and with the relaxation came understanding. The blood-oath, the spell that bound her and Eclipse to investigate the assassination, had been fulfilled at last.
What a shame that talking about her achievement would only bring the Primes down on her head all the faster.
Look on the bright side. That’s one less sword hanging over my head.
She dragged her mind back to Ashin’s last comment. “But she’d already caused trouble, hadn’t she?”
. “Yes. She was the one who began arranging for other doppelgangers to survive. We don’t think they were aware of that at the time, though. Otherwise they would have tried to get her to talk first, to name her accomplices. But they know now. Otherwise they wouldn’t have searched her home.”
Looking for evidence. Mirage nodded. “So how many of you are there, in this little conspiracy?”
Ashin gave her a measuring look. “I don’t think I’m going to tell you that.”