"Oh. Well, it could be done, if I were close enough. Have you found the assassin, then?" A hint of eagerness crept into her melodious voice.

Eclipse shook his head. "Not yet. We're getting closer, though. As I wrote to you, we're fairly sure he was trained at Wolf star. That narrows the field considerably."

"And what about the employer?"

"That's what we wanted to ask you about," Mirage said. "Who succeeded Tari-nakana as Key of her Path?"

"Kekkai-nai. I mean, she's Kekkai-nakana now."

"What was she doing before she became Key?"

"She was the regional coordinator for the northa"Askavya, Liak, and Miest."

Mirage remembered the name now; she had seen it on no small number of papers in Tarinakana's study. Closing her eyes, she thought back to those reports; had there been anything of note in them? Nothing came to mind. "Has Kekkai-nakana made any noticeable changes in the policies of her Path since she became Key?"

"Not that I can think of. But she hasn't been in office for very long, of course."

"What about Tari-nakana?" Eclipse asked. "What projects was she engaged in before she died?" The witch hesitated, and he lifted his hand in reminder of the blood-oath. They had every right in the world to know.

The witch nodded. "I'm sorry. In truth, though, Tari-nakana wasn't doing anything at alla"nothing significant, that is. She was doing her job, obviously."

"Not 'obviously,'" Mirage said. "Was there something she wasn't doing? A duty she was neglecting, or a request she was ignoring? Can you think of anyone who would have wanted to remove her from office for ineffectiveness or incompetence?"

"She was quite competent," the witch said, her voice sharp.

Mirage made a conciliatory gesture. "The assassin's employer may have been unhappy with her failure to do something. Or perhaps he expects her successor to take a particular action that Tari-nakana wouldn't."

"Do you know of any projects Kekkai-nakana has been working on?" Eclipse asked. "Tasks assigned to her by Tari-nakana, or by her Prime? Did she have a pet project that might gain in importance now that she's a Key?"

Their contact shrugged, looking slightly hunted. "I don't know. Really. That's the kind of thing you'd really have to ask Kekkai-nakana."

"Then we need to meet with her," Mirage said.

The witch's control of her expression was greater than Mirage had thought; she quelled the flicker that ran across her face to the point where its nature could not be identified. Surprise? Unease? "Perhaps," the witch said slowly. "I'll have to write to her and ask. Heart Keys don't travel often, and Kekkai-nakana is particularly busy right now, as you can imagine."

They should have tried to set this up while they were still in Starfall. "Perhaps some magically arranged audience," Eclipse suggested. "Is there any way to do that? Talk to her at a distance, and not through one of those sheets?"

"Maybe," the witch said. "I'll have to ask. When I get an answera I'll send the answer to your paper. You do still have that?"

"Of course," Eclipse said, and to his credit did not sound irritated by the question.

"Good," the witch said briskly. "I'll write to you, then, when I know about Kekkai-nakana. Until then, do keep looking into other clues. The Hunter bodyguard, for example."

They stood and saluted her, then left without another word.

"That wasn't the same woman," Mirage said as they rode out of Ravelle's eastern gate in the predawn light.

Eclipse glanced at her. "You think so?"

"She looked the same. And her voice was the same. But the way she spoke was entirely different."

"Much faster, and less formal. I agree." He fell silent for a moment as they prodded their horses into a trot to pass three empty wagons trundling along the road back to their farms. When they were alone once more, he picked up where he had left off. "Why, though?"

"Depends on which one that face really belongs to. If the first witch looks like that, and the second was using an illusion, it may just be that our real contact was occupied elsewhere. Since she couldn't meet us on our way to Insebrar, she delegated someone else to take care of it."

Eclipse pondered that for a moment. "That makes sense, I guess."

"Unless neither one of them really has that face. That could be blamed on simple, standard-issue witch paranoia. If we can't identify our contact, that's one less bit of information we have."

"Did you get the feeling this second witch wasn't a member of the Fire Ray?" Eclipse said suddenly.

Now it was Mirage's turn to ponder. She hadn't considered that at all, but now that she dida "I think you might be right. She knew precious little about what was going on with Tari-nakana and Kekkai-nakana. Not that I expect leaders of any stripe to tell their subordinates everything they do, but she seemed particularly clueless. Which could be her natural state of mind. Or not." A thought struck Mirage then, and she pulled one glove off, cuing Mist with her knees to stop in the road.

Eclipse circled Sparker back to her side. "What is it?"

She extended her right wrist to him. "What color would you call that scar?"

"Sort of a faded browna"but there's a bint of green in it, too. Which is how it'll be recognizable as a blood-oath scar. It doesn't look natural."

"Now, I might be wrong about this, but I seem to remember a conversation back when we were trainees, where Talon mentioned that you can tell the Ray of the witch who cast the blood-oath spell by the color of the scar it leaves."

Eclipse looked at the scar again, then at her. "Greenish brown. Earth?"

"That would be my guess. It's certainly not a fiery color."

"So if our second witch wasn't Fire Ray, neither was our first."

Mirage pulled her gauntlet back on and kneed Mist forward; they couldn't afford to waste all day sitting on their horses in the middle of the road. "We thought she might be Void Ray, remember. And maybe we weren't wrong. But if she was Earth, and this second witch was something other than Firea"why are so many witches of other Rays involved in this investigation?"

"Tari-nakana was an important woman. Her assassination might mean trouble for all of them."

"Maybe. But it seems too pat."

More silence as they rode. Mirage kept quiet, for she could feel Eclipse was working through something in his mind. Morning had come in full by the time he had his thoughts together. She looked up sharply when he spoke again.

"Do you remember anything odd about those papers and letters in Tarinakana's study?"

"I assume you mean the ones besides the itinerary." Mirage considered it, then shook her head. "Nothing jumps to mind. It looked like routine paperwork and correspondence."

"Who was she receiving letters from?"

"Witches, mostly. Also Lords and Ladies of domains, of course, and some of their more important ministers and governors. But the bulk of it was from witches."

"Which makes sense, given that she was a Key, and of the Heart Path to boot. She was responsible for coordinating the activities of her Ray, and sending out orders that came down from her Prime. But what I want to know is, why were so many of those letters from witchesa"un-ranked ones, no lessa"outside her Ray?"

Mirage closed her eyes and summoned to mind as many of the endless sheets of paper as she could recall. She supposed Eclipse was right, but stilla""Most of those letters were unimportant. Personal in nature. Like the one about the cat."

"They looked unimportant."

"You think they were in code?"

"I don't know. Maybe. We may have to ask our contacta"or whoever it is we're dealing with nowa"to send us the papers from Starfall. I think I'm going to want another look at them."

The thought of having to cart the contents of Tarinakana's study with them across the land made Mirage cringe. "Let's at least wait until we've spoken to Avalanche. If there's something hidden in those letters, he may know about it."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Double [Miryo]

Miryo schooled her face to calm, her eyes in soft focus on the far wall. Once she might have paced, might have bit at her fingernails or her hair. The ritual had changed her, though; the calm of Air was in her, and she knew it now. She needed all its help to stay tranquil.

I have been marked. But in what ways? Goddess, Lady, I don't understanda"have I passed, or not?

What is to become of me?

Miryo had not seen many people since the ritual; for a while it had just been Nenikune. Then, when the healer was satisfied with Miryo's physical health, Satomi's secretary Ruriko had come to summon Miryo.

Summon me to judgment?

Just then Miryo would have given a great deal to talk to Ashin. She wasn't certain of her own status, but it didn't much matter; whether she was a witch or not, she would have cornered the Hand Key and forced information out of her. Ashin had suspected this was coming. And Miryo wanted to know why.

She wondered how long she had been unconscious. No way of knowing; Nenikune had refused to say, and Miryo had known better than to ask Ruriko. The summons had been too formal. For all she knew, it could have been a week since her trial. The room she'd woken in had no windows, but if Nenikune had been bringing meals at regular intervals, then Miryo had been awake for two days.

The double doors, each carved with the symbols of the five Elements, swung open. Miryo rose to face Ruriko and bent into a tiny bow. Even if Miryo was a witcha"and she wasn't at all certain of thata"it couldn't hurt to be polite. The secretary gestured wordlessly for Miryo to enter, and exited after she passed, closing the doors with a final-sounding thud.

Miryo had never liked the hall she stood in now. Though beautiful, it lacked Star Hall's aura of magic; it was merely a place for mundane ruling, and not a space for ritual. Its intimidation was grimmer.

She walked the hall's length, hearing her footsteps echo coldly off the stone. In the floor beneath her feet were five parallel ranks of marble slabs; beneath them lay the bones of early Primes. The inscriptions were nearly illegible on many of them, worn smooth by generations of footsteps. It was a stark reminder of age and endurance, and it made Miryo feel small.

At last she came to the front of the hall and sank without hesitation into a full bow. Even if she was a witch, she was facing the Primes now, and respect was still required.

"Rise," Satomi said.

Miryo forced her knees straight and lifted her chin. She had no idea what was going on, or what had happened to her, but she was damned if she'd cower.

The five Primes eyed her from their thrones on the dais before her. Behind each of them hung beautifully stitched banners in their Elemental colors. Satomi's pale, fiery hair stood out starkly against its black background. It did nothing to soften her unreadable expression.

"You do not know what has happened to you," the Void Prime said at last.

Miryo remained silent, not knowing what she should say, or if she should speak at all.

"You could not have known," Satomi continued. "The information necessary to understanding has not been made available to you. We will give it to you now, so you may know what it is you must do to fix that which has gone awry."

Her voice had the measured cadences of formal words. Miryo forced herself to breathe, and did not look away from the Prime's pale green eyes.

"Five days after a witch gives birth to a daughter, before the infant is exposed to starlight, before the eyes of the Goddess bestow a soul upon the child, the witch performs a ritual that will, in the full course of time, allow that child to work magic. A channel is created. It is then blocked, that the child may learn the patterns of magic before its power is thrust upon her. And that block is not removed until the child is twenty-five."

None of this was new to Miryo; it was a part of the general course of study. She kept her eyes on Satomi, waiting for the new information that must be coming, the information that would tell her why she had suffered so terribly in Star Hall.

"But this ritual has a second effect. It creates a doppelgangera"a second shell, a copy of the first, identical in every way, save that it lacks the capacity to work magic."

A second shella"Cousins? But no, Cousins are differenta"what happens to the other child?

Satomi answered the question for her. "This copy is danger to the witch-child. Thus it is always killed."

Miryo's hands curled into fists at her sides.

"Your doppelganger is alive," the Void Prime said, her words whispering in the vast spaces of the hall.

And Ashin knew it. I'd swear my life on it.

She swore my life on it.

Miryo forced herself to breathe again, and wondered what, if any, of her thoughts had shown on her face.

"You must kill your doppelganger," Satomi said, not a flicker of an eyelash betraying any emotion other than cool practicality. "This is your task and yours alone. You may enlist others to your aid, but it must be your hand that strikes the blow.

"If you do not kill your doppelganger, then before much longer your magic will kill you. You cannot control it so long as your double exists; its continued life puts yours in danger. Until it dies, you must not use magic save in utmost defense of your life, and even then, be warned that your spell may kill you just as surely. You may not use your magic to kill your doppelganger.

"Once you have accomplished this task, you may return directly to us and take up life as an ordinary sister, choosing a Ray and a Path."

Only then did Satomi blink. The motion, jarring after the absolute stillness of everything in the hall save her mouth, jolted Miryo. She stared at the Void Prime, looking for words.

But it still was not time for her to speak.

"A horse will be prepared for you, and an escort. You shall have such supplies as you need. In addition, you may choose one witch to be your counsel, answering what remaining questions you have until you depart. Whom do you choose?"

"Ashin-kasora, Aken."

Miryo didn't even have to think about it. This was a golden opportunity to get answers from the Hand Key.

Satomi blinked again, once, before answering; that was her only reaction. "Ashin has departed from Starfall on other business. Whom do you choose?"

Gone. Conveniently. And after saying she wanted to talk to me. Miryo controlled her anger. "Narika-kai, Aken."

"Narika will be your counsel. You will depart in two days. You may wear this." Satomi extended one arm, and a small object drifted through the air to settle in Miryo's cupped hands.

It was a pendant, crafted of silver: a three-cornered knot, laced around a thin circular band. Miryo's breath caught in her throat. Despite my doppelgangera"despite everythinga"I am a witch. Satomi would never give her the triskele sigil unless she had passed. She might not be able to use her magic, but she was a witch.

"Thank you, Aken," Miryo whispered.