Silver Mirrors

by A. A. Aguirre

  Ritsuko tried to think where she’d heard that. Her last geography course had been years ago. “The Seven Sisters? That’s the western islands, right?”

  Dr. Hu sighed wistfully, drawing her attention. “They’re paradise itself. Long summers and cool winters. Fruits just waiting to be plucked, beaches of the whitest, softest sand you’ll ever see. And the people, lovely, generous, and brave . . . lovers without equal!” He gestured with his glass when Miss Braelan chortled, and Mikani rolled his eyes, splashing wine toward them. “Pay no attention to those two, they’re bloody pagans.”

  Miss Braelan dabbed at the wine stains on her pantaloons with a folded napkin. “Irahi’s from western Maia, the Sister closest to the Summer Isle.”

  “It’s charming to see such enthusiasm for his homeland.” Ritsuko had already surmised as much, but she smiled at the doctor. “I’m sure it’s a beautiful place, sir.”

  “Please, call me Irahi. We’re all friends here, no?” He flashed a bright smile, and Ritsuko decided he was even more striking when he turned on the charm.

  “Then you should call me Celeste.” She pulled her attention from the doctor to ask Miss Braelan, “But we’re not making port in the Seven Sisters, are we?”

  “No.” Miss Oliver leaned forward to answer. “We’ll use the currents along the westernmost shore of Winter to gain speed.” The woman put her hands together, sliding them in opposite directions to demonstrate. “And we’ll berth in Northport before the week’s done. Refit, resupply, and head off to find us the cragger chieftain.”

  The boatswain paused at a look from Miss Braelan, murmuring an apology and picking at the last of the meal on her plate. Ritsuko wondered what the exchange portended, what secrets Mikani’s former paramour might be keeping. It’s bad enough that she wants him to play hired killer. How much worse could it get? Possibly she wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Not much detail there, Saskia.” Mikani refilled his glass and stared into it after he addressed Miss Braelan. “I’m not sure I can charm my way past a townful of craggers so we can put a bullet through their chieftain’s heart.”

  Ritsuko thought there was something off in his tone. Perhaps he didn’t like the cost of his passage any more than she did. The rest of the crew seemed oddly still, like they knew something she didn’t. Not surprising, since Mikani had known these folks longer, so they doubtless were better acquainted with the nuances between her partner and Miss Braelan. It seemed likely that there were myriad shared stories, adventures, and complications of which she knew nothing. Her smile froze just a little.

  “I have complete faith in your ability to charm your idiot self into the most dangerous spot in any situation, Janus.” Much of Miss Braelan’s prior anger seemed to have dissipated after a few hours at sea. She grinned at Mikani, appearing in good charity with him.

  With a pang, Ritsuko remembered interrupting an intimate meal at Mikani’s house and how at-home Miss Braelan had been. Whereas I just visited his place for the first time this year. Through a burst of melancholy, she pulled her thoughts to the present.

  At the first conversational lull, Ritsuko said, “Could you tell me a little more about the Winter Isle? I’ve never done any traveling.”

  It was a general inquiry, meant for anyone at the table, but Miss Braelan replied. “It’s a bleak but beautiful place, Inspector, small but lively. Northport is no Dorstaad, and the Houses don’t hold as tight a rein. House Thorgrim isn’t big on law and order, so they let Winter settlements fend for themselves. As long as they don’t disrupt the fire and earth elemental trade caravans leaving Mount Surtir, Thorgrim doesn’t interfere.”

  Doctor Hu nodded, evidently glad to speak of something other than the craggers. “Farming collectives, ordered little towns all but worshipping a charismatic leader, loose collections of people sharing worship of some obscure god. You’ll find them all, and stranger, in the Winter Isle. The one rule is, don’t try to smuggle elemental vessels out of Winter.”

  “Elemental smuggling?” Ritsuko arched a brow, puzzled. It was common knowledge that fire elementals were bound in spheres of amber and earth elementals to heavy, leaden discs; anything beyond that was a closely guarded secret of the elemental Houses. “But I thought Houses Skarsgard and Aevar owned the mines. Why would Thorgrim care if someone tried to steal salamanders and gnomes?”

  Mr. Loison cleared his throat politely, and Ritsuko started. The clerk had been so quietly focused on his wine that she’d forgotten he was beside her. At times, the ability to feign invisibility must prove extremely helpful. She could envision any number of applications, and that likely gave Miss Braelan an advantage in gathering intelligence on her competitors.

  The clerk said, “House Thorgrim controls Northport, Inspector Ritsuko. They levy an export tax on every elemental that leaves Winter Island. That’s their main source of income, so they tend to take harsh punitive action against smugglers. Both elemental Houses have tried to set up their own ports in the last hundred years, seeking a way to avoid the fees.”

  “And they’ve failed every time.” Mikani drained his glass and refilled it again. “Freak storms, crop failures, cragger attacks. Thorgrim once sent a fleet with ‘disaster assistance’ after a mysterious plague struck a small town sponsored by House Skarsgard. They claimed the settlers were all dead when they found them.” He smiled grimly. “Aevar and Skarsgard have more or less given up on the effort now.”

  Miss Braelan sighed into the silence that followed. “Bronze gods, Janus, you know how to end a pleasant dinner, don’t you?”

  The other woman tossed her empty wine goblet at him; he caught it and set it on the table as everyone rose from their seats. Miss Oliver wore a dour expression, as did Mr. Ferro, but since that was the only aspect Ritsuko had ever seen from the first mate, she had no idea if Mikani had impacted his mood. Mr. Loison appeared inscrutable as ever. The doctor had drunk less than Mikani, so far as Ritsuko could tell, but he swayed slightly on his feet. It amused her that a man so large would have low alcohol tolerance.

  “Get some rest, everyone. It’ll be two or three days to the Seven Sisters since I need to save my strength for the crossing past Mount Surtir.”

  Ritsuko recalled how the other woman had stood on deck, singing as the sails swelled. Unless she was mistaken, that made Miss Braelan a weather witch, but like usual, she sought confirmation. “The wind before wasn’t natural?”

  Miss Braelan shook her head, then regarded Mikani with a smile. “Good night, Inspectors. Irahi, get to your bunk before you keel over. Likewise, Nell. Mr. Ferro, you have command until first light. Now, if you’ll all be so kind, get out of my cabin so I can sleep.”

  Sam hovered, waiting to clear the table and tidy the cabin for his captain. He was a scrawny lad, covered in freckles, but he didn’t seem unhappy with his lot. In the stories, cabin boys were beaten and starved, but Sam seemed to enjoy serving on the Gull. From what she’d seen, it was a beautiful ship, sleek in the water and efficiently designed belowdecks.

  “Thank you for your excellent stewardship tonight,” she said to the boy.

  He colored and bobbed an awkward acknowledgment, though he didn’t speak. Turning, she stepped out into the hall, lit by special lamps affixed to the walls. The flickering flames cast interesting shadows on the others’ skin as they followed her. Miss Oliver and Mr. Ferro only nodded a brief leave-taking and headed off, but the doctor embraced Mikani, then bowed with a grace that surprised Ritsuko given his size and evident intoxication.

  “Dream well, Celestial one.”

  That’s . . . unexpectedly sweet. Warren, her former beau, had never been one for pet names. She had chosen him for his logical approach to life, only to find that too much reason could kill all warmer feelings over time.

  So she smiled up at the doctor. “You as well, Irahi.”

  He beamed in response to her use of his given name, then indicated Mikani with a tilt of his head. “Keep clear of that one, he’s naught but trouble.” The man fli
pped an unsteady salute at her partner and staggered toward the infirmary, singing at the top of his lungs in a dialect Ritsuko didn’t recognize.

  She glanced around. The boatswain and first mate had already disappeared from view, leaving her and her partner standing in the short corridor connecting the staterooms and captain’s quarters. Mr. Loison hadn’t yet emerged, which made Ritsuko think he must be giving Miss Braelan his impressions from dinner. She made a mental note to be on her guard around the clerk, whom she was sure was sharp as a steel trap.

  He ran his fingers through his hair, even more disheveled than usual. “I need some air before lying down, partner. Join me on deck?”

  • • •

  MIKANI LEANED ON the wooden rail, near the prow of the Gull. A quarter moon hung low in the sky. The darkness made it easier to ignore the vast emptiness of the sea all around him. The sound of the waves lapping at the hull and steady rocking of the ship didn’t bother him as long as he didn’t have to see the expanse of cold water all around.

  “They seem a good crew.” He turned toward Ritsuko, squinting against the sting of sea spray. “How are you liking your first sea voyage?”

  “It’s been exhilarating so far. I probably shouldn’t enjoy work so much, but I’ve always wanted to see more of the world.” She didn’t seem affected at all by the sickness that sometimes plagued those new to sea travel.

  Mikani smiled. It’s been years since I felt that excited about an assignment.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath. “I’m glad one of us is having fun. Being cooped up in a wooden crate with Saskia in the middle of the sea and headed for the Winter Isle is not my idea of a vacation.” He paused. “I’m glad you’re here, though.”

  His partner slid him a look he couldn’t interpret easily. He was tempted to check her emotional state, but he resisted the urge since it was an invasion of her privacy. His Ferisher gift had always been a curse and a blessing; he could read emotional imprints off objects and sense people’s emotions if he concentrated, but using the talent always cost him in pain and often blood. Over the years, he’d learned to lock it away until he needed it. But since they’d killed Lorne Nuall, it had become a struggle not to lose himself in the currents of foreign feelings.

  “Where else would I be? We’re a team, right?”

  Damned right. And I’m glad of it.

  “We are. And you’d get in too much trouble without me as a steadying influence in your life. You might go wild.”

  Ritsuko brightened in a smile Mikani would call mischievous. “That seems like an excellent idea, especially here, where word of my misdeeds won’t come back to haunt me.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Is there any chance that the doctor knows anyone else at the CID?”

  Hells and Winter.

  “Hu? Really?” Mikani was less than thrilled at the idea, though he couldn’t say why. And poking that tangled mess is not something I care to do just now.

  She arched a brow. “That doesn’t answer the question. And why ‘really’? He’s a very impressive man.”

  Mikani leaned on the railing, scrutinizing his partner. “He’s a good man, but I’ve never known you to show much interest in anyone so fast before, Ritsuko. Is the sea air affecting you? Romance of the waves, suddenly want to join the ranks of the Free Merchants?”

  “That’s the point. I don’t imagine he has any interest in moving to Dorstaad. He’s married to the nomadic life, whereas I’ve been nothing but settled. At this point, I could use a little excitement.” She lifted her shoulder in a graceful shrug. “Though it’s not something I’ve ever done, I’ve heard about the excitement of a holiday affaire. I suppose nearly dying has changed my outlook somewhat. I want . . . to live, not just work.”

  “I . . .” Mikani hesitated. Never thought of it that way. Until this last bloody mess, I didn’t spare a thought to what went on when we weren’t together. Selfish of me. Damned if Jane wasn’t right. His last lover had told him in no uncertain terms that he had the emotional depth of a goose. “I can understand that. It must be hard to be so focused all the time.”

  “Not hard. Lonely.” She looked out over the waves, the moonlight turning her skin to alabaster. “That’s why I left the Mountain District. I wanted to talk to people who didn’t disapprove of me on a daily basis. I was looking for some . . . warmth, I suppose, for want of a better word. I’m proud of the work we do, but I don’t want it to define me any longer.”

  From what he recalled, Ritsuko’s grandfather had died before they met, and she’d been orphaned when she was a baby. Any extended family disapproved of her since she’d chosen to handfast in place of permanent bond with Warren, and when she dissolved that arrangement without settling and having children, their displeasure deepened to near ostracism. Little wonder she preferred the boardinghouse near Central.

  On the other hand, his relatives wished he came home more often. Mikani got nagging letters from his sister once a month, updating him on family business, though he skimmed the parts unrelated to his nieces and nephew. In truth, Ritsuko would probably appreciate the bonds he was trying to escape.

  He laid a hand on her forearm. “Celeste, you’re an exceptional woman. And I, for one, don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  She shifted to face him then, and parted lips reflected her surprise. Yes, I’m telling the truth. He still hadn’t gotten used to his partner’s having that sense; he didn’t know if it made things simpler or more complicated. Both, probably.

  Then she put her palm over his. “You may know this already . . . but you’re the person I trust most in the world, Janus. If I were headed for hell, I’d want you at my back.”

  Mikani was very aware of her cool fingers on his skin and of just how close they were standing. “I know. Truth be told, this jaunt may end up being a good practice run for that.” He squeezed her arm gently. “I’ll do my best to get us out of it in one piece.”

  There was no way to be sure if she was conscious of the motion, but her thumb traced over his, and her fingertip rose and fell over the scars on his knuckles. “I have no doubt that you’ll manage it, no matter the odds. You’re a hell of a fighter.”

  Mikani studied Ritsuko’s face, noticing the faint laugh lines and delicate curve of her jaw. He let go of her arm to turn his hand and clasp her fingers in his. “One need only have the right incentive.”

  “What was yours when you patrolled the docks?” She left their hands linked, a warm bond against the chill of the sea air. “From what I hear, you were cracking skulls all over.”

  Mikani chuckled, his fingers tracing the lines of her fingers entwined with his. “Back then, honestly, I was just angry. Angry at my father for going off to hunt down pirates and not coming back. At the Houses, for taking him away from us.”

  His fingers tensed against Ritsuko’s, and he forced them to relax in her grip. She responded with gentle pressure that was probably supposed to be soothing. Ritsuko wasn’t watching the ocean anymore; instead, her gaze was fixed on his face.

  “I don’t know if it’s better or worse that you have memories of him . . . that you can miss him. I was so young when my parents died . . .”

  “It depends on the day, I suppose. And on what memories come up.” He shook his head. “Whatever else, he taught me as best he could, and now I try to not disappoint.”

  “He disappeared at sea? This must be especially tough for you.” Her understanding tone cracked him open, just a little.

  Mikani didn’t ordinarily talk about his father. “When he disappeared, I got blind drunk at his favorite tavern. I made my way to the beach that night and spent three hours raging at the ocean and punching a dock support until I was picked up by the local constabulary.” He chuckled at the memory. “They’re always shorthanded up north, so I got the choice between serving my sentence at the penal farms and joining the force.” She was listening raptly, so he continued, “The constables were a half dozen retired sailors and House Guard veterans. We
dealt with thieves, smugglers, and the occasional raider, using clubs, axes, and scythes while we had no guns. They taught me how to fight to win.”

  “That explains your lack of finesse, Mikani. You were trained by thugs.”

  He smiled faintly. “I also learned that the Houses don’t much care what happens as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them.” He let out a long breath and turned back toward the ocean as the memories flooded back. “We’d asked for help dealing with some raiders who had killed everyone in an outlying farm; the local lord told us to ‘deal with them quickly.’ We set an ambush and managed to board them; they cast off and headed for the open sea with four of us still on board. In the melee, the boat smashed into some rocks . . . only two of us made it back to shore, battered and half-drowned.” He shook his head. “I still loathe the sea. Always feel like I might end up reuniting with my old man before I’m ready.”

  “He’s the ghost who haunts you even though you’re not certain if he’s dead.” Her observation was uncomfortably acute.

  “He’s my haunt and conscience, yes.” Mikani straightened, rolling the tension from his shoulders as he did. He’d never shared so much with anyone. I feel hollowed out. But . . . better. Strange. “He’s been gone over ten years, and I listen to him more than when he was here. Hells and Winter, I probably listen to him more than to . . . almost, anyone.”

  His partner took a step closer. “For what it’s worth, Janus, I think he’d be really proud of you, the way you protect those who can’t fight for themselves, and especially how you stand for fair play in a world where silver and gold often weight the scales of justice.” Another step brought her within arm’s reach, then she hugged him.

  Mikani tensed for a moment in surprise. But he did not hesitate in wrapping his arms around her. With Ritsuko near, even the ocean didn’t seem quite as terrible.