5
Test [Miryo]
Miryo was on the roof again when Eikyo found her, this time on a slope that had her facing Star Hall directly.
“You’re brooding,” her friend said in accusation, when she rounded a gable and found Miryo there. “And you made yourself hard to find.”
Miryo just shrugged.
“Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily.” Eikyo came up and sat on the tiles next to her. “What’s wrong?”
“Just thinking.”
“While staring at Star Hall.”
“I’m worried about the test, okay?”
Eikyo peered at her. “No, not okay. There’s more to it than that. Has something happened?”
The sun-warmed tiles were soothing against Miryo’s hands. She picked at a leaf that had become caught between two of them. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She caught sight of Eikyo’s face, and sighed. “All right. I talked to Ashin-kasora a while ago, because I was thinking about maybe joining the Air Hand.”
Eikyo’s expression became sympathetic. “Did she ton you down?”
Miryo laughed without much humor. “She may not have to.”
“What?”
“She…” Miryo searched for words to describe the Key’s behavior. There really was no gentle way to say it. “She thinks I’m going to fail the test.”
Eikyo stared at her in complete shock. “You can’t be serious.”
“And the funny thing is,” Miryo said, not finding it funny at all, “just a few days before that, Narika-kai was telling me she thought I would be fine.”
“Well, there you go,” Eikyo said. “Who says Ashin’s right? And for the love of the Mother, why would she even tell you that?”
“She didn’t say it outright. Just acted like it.”
Eikyo brightened. “See? You were probably just imagining it.”
“I wasn’t.” Miryo shook her head, eyes on Star Hall again. “I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t quite that. But… she was on edge about something having to do with my test. And she did a miserable job of hiding it.”
Her friend ran her fingers down the cracks between the roof tiles, one by one. “Maybe she did it on purpose,” she said slowly.
Now it was Miryo’s turn to stare. “What?”
“Well,” Eikyo said, “most of the time I’ve seen you fail at something, it’s because you didn’t think it was going to be a problem. So you weren’t prepared. But if you expect a challenge—well, that’s the quickest way to make you succeed. You put your head down and run at it, and Goddess help anything that gets in your way.”
Miryo rolled her eyes. “You think she did it just to make me work harder?”
“Maybe.”
It was better than the alternative. And Eikyo’s right about me, I guess. I left Ashin’s office and went straight back to my room to look over my notes again.
She was only up here brooding because that morning she’d received her script for the ritual that framed the test. It told her some, but not much. From the terse lines of her responses, she guessed that the test somehow involved trials of character, before it opened her to power.
Do I really think I’m going to fail that? Do I think my character isn’t strong enough? Given some of the witches I’ve known here at Starfall?
But that wasn’t really the question.
Am I going to back down from this—from what I’ve worked for all my life—just because I might fail?
Even if she could, she wouldn’t.
Miryo smiled at Eikyo, and meant it. “I’ll find out, I guess. In the meantime, it’s back to studying for me. I’m damned if I’ll fail the questioning, and miss the chance to prove Ashin wrong.”
“Why is amethyst unstable in certain Fire spells, and which are those it can be used in?”
Miryo’s heart clawed its way into her throat. Amethyst-Fire—Misetsu and Menukyo help her, she didn’t know! Given time, maybe, but they would tolerate no delay!
And, for the thousandth time that day, even as Miryo’s mind froze in terrified paralysis, her mouth gave the answer. The Fire Hand Key who had asked the question showed no reaction whatsoever, but Miryo knew it was correct. Again. Luckily.
The room was cool, but she was drenched with sweat, as if she had run a dozen circuits around Star Hall. And all she had done was sit in a chair and answer questions! Miryo felt drained. And still the questions came, steady and remorseless, and still she gave the answers, without quite knowing how.
Arrayed against her were fifteen women, each with a gaze piercing enough to have nailed her to the wall twenty feet behind her. Three from each Ray of Star Hall; they were the Keys to the Paths, and stood subordinate only to the Primes who led the five Rays. They must be passing some manner of signal among themselves, for the questions never paused, and no two witches ever spoke at the same time; they merely continued at the same measured pace, wringing every last drop of knowledge out of Miryo, including some she never knew were in her. Ashin was among them, of course, but her unusually dark eyes betrayed no hint of anything.
“When will the next lunar eclipse come, and how extensive will it be?”
“It will come forty-three days hence, and cover three-quarters of the moon, Itsumen-akara.”
“During what part of the year is the constellation of the Hunter visible in the sky?”
“From the spring equinox to the winter solstice, Kimeko-akara.”
Two in a row from the Void Ray. There was no pattern to the questions, no rhyme or reason to how they came. Miryo could never be sure where the next one was coming from, or what it would concern.
“Eliseed can be used for treating shortness of breath, but never with pregnant women, or those suffering heart troubles, Atami-makiza.”
Without so much as a glance, the cue passed from the Water Hand Key to the Earth Heart. Would Atami be upset that Miryo had given too much information? The witch had not asked for exceptions to the use of eliseed Even as Miryo said how many hot springs were in the domain of Trine—“Seventeen, Ueda-chakoa”—she slipped a glance back at the witch who had asked the previous question. Atami did not look irritated. It was probably better to tell more than less.
Miryo spared a moment to think of Eikyo. She hoped her friend was studying hard. The questioning was far more brutal than either of them had expected. How had Gannu ever passed?
“Lightning may be directed only in conjunction with Earth, Onomita-nakana. If the witch is not properly grounded, it may recoil back on her.”
It took a heartbeat for Miryo to realize that no one had followed the Fire Head Key’s question with a new one. She reached for her water glass; her mouth was dry from speaking, and these pauses came all too infrequently.
The Keys stood.
Miryo stared at them for an instant before leaping to her feet. The questioning was over. Now the Keys would announce their evaluation of her performance. Except that they hadn’t discussed it among themselves at all; didn’t they need to talk it over?
Then Miryo remembered her part, and turned to look behind her.
The five women who served as Primes for the Rays stood behind her in an impassive line. Miryo bowed to the Keys, then to the Primes, and moved to one side, out of the way.
“This one has brought her mind to you for testing,” Satomi-aken, the Void Prime, said into the quiet of the room. “How do you find it?”
Hyoka-akara answered her, the Key of the Head for Satomi’s Ray. “Her mind is sound and well-prepared. We commend her to your trial.”
First stage down. Now, the one that matters.
Miryo approached the Primes and bowed again, trying to keep her face calm. They did not speak to her, but merely turned and led her out of the room.
The six women passed down a hallway and through a door, emerging into the crisp evening air. To her surprise, Miryo saw that full dark had just set in. Even though she was aware of the prescribed timing, it felt as though it should be noon the next day. The questions had gone on forever.