The snapping energy she had gained from the Warrior Dance was still with her, in full force now that she could do something with it. “Thank you. Take me there, please.”
They encountered no one in the hallway. Miryo could hear the distant sounds of the revelry still going on. Before she was quite ready, she was in front of Sareen’s door, and Kan had retired to a nearby alcove. Miryo straightened her dress, then knocked on the door, hoping the Dancer was in.
She was. And she started again when she opened her door and saw Miryo.
“I would like to speak with you,” Miryo said.
Sareen recovered and bowed. “Of course, Katsu. Please, come in.”
The room was bare compared to Miryo’s; this was the sort of housing that would normally be given to the lesser servant of a high-ranking visitor. Temple Dancers lived spartan lives. Were Sareen one of the younger Dancers, she would be sharing a room with two or three others. It was a mark of her status that she had even this room to herself.
There were two chairs; Miryo took one and gestured for Sareen to take the other. It felt strange. She still wasn’t used to having rank herself, that people would wait for permission to sit in her presence.
“Twice now,” Miryo said, having considered and discarded a more roundabout approach, “you’ve reacted oddly when you looked at me. Why is that?”
Sareen dropped her eyes. “My apologies, Katsu. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“You needn’t apologize. I’m just curious. Have you seen me before?”
“I don’t believe so, Katsu. It’s just that you remind me a great deal of someone I used to know.”
I knew it.
Miryo swallowed her rising excitement and forced herself to speak casually. “Who?”
“A fellow Dancer. She used to be in training with our company.”
Of all the professions Miryo had envisioned for her doppelganger, Temple Dancer had not been high on the list. It was almost as strange as imagining her double as a priestess. “How long ago was this?”
“Quite a while. Twelve years, maybe thirteen.”
“And… she was your age?” Miryo had to hastily revise her sentence. Sareen would find it odd if she referred to the doppelganger as “it.”
“A bit younger, Katsu.”
Sareen looked to be in her late twenties. Which fit, of course; the doppelganger would be the same age as Miryo herself. She had to reach into herself for the calm of Air again before asking the next question. “Where did she go?”
Now the Dancer looked regretful. “I don’t know, Katsu.”
Somehow I didn’t think it was going to be quite that easy.
“Did she go to another company elsewhere, do you think?”
Sareen shook her head. “No. Criel—our leader at the time—said she had a different calling. I don’t think she’s still a Dancer.”
A different calling? Perhaps it had become a priestess, strange though it was to imagine. “Where is Criel now?”
“I think she’s in Verdosa, Katsu—in the main temple there.”
In the east. Miryo could not believe her luck. Or perhaps it wasn’t luck; perhaps the thread she’d been following had been bringing her to Sareen and Criel, not to her doppelganger itself. No way of knowing, at least not yet.
Miryo realized Sareen was looking at her curiously.
She cursed her lack of magic; if only she could use it, she could question the Dancer further and then “encourage” her to forget the conversation. But since the woman was likely to gossip, she didn’t want to add fodder by asking more questions.
Sareen was still looking at her. Miryo put her frustration aside and stood. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time. I’m sure you’re tired, after that performance. Which was quite beautiful, by the way—I count myself lucky that I was here for it.” Despite the danger it had posed.
“It is how we worship the Goddess,” Sareen said quite simply. “The beauty brings you closer to her.” She bowed Miryo out of the room, and closed the door behind her.
It wasn’t until Miryo was well away from Sareen’s room that she realized she had never even asked her doppelganger’s name.
Climbing around on the rooftops in Starfall was one matter; the Cousins knew perfectly well that students went to the roof of their quarters for privacy and a look at the stars.
Climbing around on the rooftops of Haira’s central keep was another matter entirely.
For one thing, it lacked the architecture of the students’ quarters, which was well-suited to climbing and hiding. For another, Haira had guards who would be less inclined to look the other way if a mysterious silhouette appeared against the night sky. But Miryo needed fresh air, and quiet, and she was accustomed to doing her thinking while sitting on a roof. She took her chances with the guards and climbed out her bedroom window.
Outside, she took deep breaths and tried to calm her racing heart. She had proof. Her doppelganger existed, and someone had seen it. More than one someone. Miryo had not doubted the Primes, but somehow this confirmation made the whole situation more real.
Her doppelganger was out there. Somewhere. And she was going to find it. Because she refused to fail.
Criel, former leader of Eriot’s company, would know where it had gone. What professions were there for thirteen-year-old former Temple Dancers? Many of them joined the clergy when they became too old to Dance, but Miryo had difficulty visualizing her double taking vows at that age. And why had it left the company in the first place? What “other calling” had it gone to follow?
These were all questions she could ask Criel when she got to Verdosa.
Now that she had a direction, Miryo could not wait for dawn to come. She did not regret this pause in Haira, but she was itching to get back in the saddle. She had to wait a few hours yet, though, before she could wake the two Cousins and get them on the road—
North.
Miryo’s heart almost stopped.
North, not east. The pull had moved. And it was distinct; she wasn’t imagining the change. Whatever was drawing her wasn’t in the east. It was north, now—not the far north, but nearby. Toward Kalistyi, though maybe not that far.
It’s on the move.
The pull did lead to her doppelganger; she was sure of it now. And it was moving. Heading west.
What’s in the west?
Half the domains lay in that direction. It could be headed anywhere, from Starfall to Askavya.
But the thread that led to it was stronger than it had ever been before. Miryo was no longer afraid she would lose it. Whichever way her doppelganger turned, she could follow it. And it couldn’t run forever. Eventually—soon—she would catch it.
Miryo rose and began to make her way back across the roof to her window. She hadn’t gone far, knowing she didn’t want any encounters with guards. Her mind and heart were both racing, but she made an effort to quiet them. She had to get some sleep tonight. Tomorrow would be early enough to get on the move once more.
And if I keep telling myself that, she thought wryly, I might even begin to believe it.
She did not sleep that night.
13
Hunters
Mirage didn’t want to stop in Angrim, but they didn’t have a lot of choice. They still hadn’t sent a bird ahead to Silverfire, and the horses needed the rest anyway.
Who am I kidding? I need the rest, too. I’ve been on the mad just as long as Mist has. From Insebrar to Abern to Starfall to Insebrar again to here—I haven’t really stopped since Chervie, and that little holiday got cut short.
They had been driving themselves hard since Starfall, first to reach Avalanche before he left Vilardi, and then to get to Miest before trouble could catch up to them. They had not told anyone of their suspicions, and there had been no sign of pursuit from Vilardi, but still the hairs on the back of Mirage’s neck refused to lie down. She could not escape that hunted feeling, and it had begun to seriously grate on her nerves.
So this delay in Angrim, while frustrating, was also nice. It was a welcome chance to sit in something other than a saddle; to walk on her own two feet through the daylit streets of a town; to wake up in the same bed two mornings in a row.
Mirage slept for an exceptionally long time their first night in Angrim, and woke just before noon. She stretched luxuriously, legs dangling off the narrow bed. She’d recovered from the lump on her head she’d taken in that brawl, and her knee was mostly better, but they’d been two weeks on the road from Vilardi, and she didn’t have much energy left. While these hours of sleep had not been strictly necessary—she’d gone on in worse condition before—they had been very pleasant. Her nerves had calmed as well. In the sunlit quiet of her room, she reveled in the lack of tension. She no longer felt as if she must check the road behind her for pursuit every few minutes. It was truly a relief.
All right, lazy. You’ve lounged around in bed for long enough; time to get up and get some things done.
She found Eclipse downstairs in the common room, enjoying an early lunch. He raised an eyebrow at her, but chose not to comment on her late rising; in a way it was a pity. Mirage was in a good enough mood that for once she wouldn’t have retaliated.
The reason for his silence became apparent soon enough. He needed her in that good mood. “I’ve been checking the horses, and they need to be reshod before we head on.”
The day was half gone, and his expression was wary. It wasn’t hard for Mirage to figure out. “You want to stay an extra day.”
Eclipse nodded. “There’s a farrier who can do it today, but he shod Sparker last year and I really don’t like his work. The one I’d rather get can’t do it until tomorrow.”
Yesterday Mirage would have snapped his nose off; yesterday she felt as though she were being targeted by an archer. “That sounds fine. It’ll give me a chance to mend some tack and get everything else back in order. Have you gotten supplies yet?”
The look on his face was priceless. “You’re not going to argue?”
“Not really. I don’t think the extra day will hurt us, and I can certainly find productive ways to use it.”
“I won’t complain. Especially since I haven’t even begun to get supplies—I woke late, too.” His grin was not very repentant.
“No wonder you didn’t chide me. I expected you to.”
“I can chide you, if you’d like.”
“No, thank you.” Mirage stretched again and looked around the common room, which was empty aside from them; the inn did not begin serving nonguests until dinner. “This quiet is nice. Especially in light of our recent adventures. No brawls, no suspicious guards, and best of all, not a cockroach in sight.”
He cocked his head and studied her face. “You’re not feeling as edgy, are you?”
“Nope. Which is why I’m in a good mood. Take advantage of it while you can.”
“Can I borrow some money?”
“Don’t press your luck.” They grinned at each other, in genuine, unadulterated good humor for the first time in a while.
Which was odd, given that as far as they knew, their situation hadn’t improved. But the more Mirage thought about it, the more she felt pleased at the thought of staying in Angrim, maybe even wandering around the town a little bit, seeing what interesting things she might happen across. She’d been in Angrim many times before, but still…
You can’t stay forever, she reminded herself. You’ve still got trouble on your back.
But since a certain amount of delay was inevitable, she might as well enjoy the respite.