Silver Mirrors

by A. A. Aguirre

  The stern-faced innkeeper turned as she spoke. “You picked a dire time to come calling. If you’re wise, you’ll rest those horses and ride out again in the morn.”

  “Unfortunately, we can’t,” Ritsuko said.

  A shrug greeted her reply, then he went back to work, leaving her to follow the rest of her party. Her legs felt soft and unsteady after two days of riding, sore in strange places. Hu paused long enough to offer his arm. She took it, grateful for the support, and glad they’d cleared the air. Now she could enjoy his company without fearing she might hurt him when it came time for partings. While she’d miss him as a friend, he didn’t own her heart.

  With Mikani beside her, Miss Braelan set a brisk pace toward the mining offices, the center of the various train lines. Hu and Ritsuko followed. She couldn’t make out what the couple ahead was talking about, but it seemed to be important. Fortunately, over the past day, Ritsuko had managed to box up her bruised feelings, as they didn’t lend themselves to a solid partnership. So he left. It was doubtless the prudent thing to do. And it all ended well enough.

  Moving at such a clip, the group reached the administrative complex that comprised the bulk of the local industry in no time. The cavernous building was well lit with gas lamps mounted high on the columns supporting a vaulted ceiling. Skarsgard and Magnus bondsmen hurried along, pausing now and then to converse briefly before setting off, disappearing into the countless passages and stairwells dotting the walls.

  “Excuse me.” Ritsuko stepped in front of a young man trying to hurry past. “The mine foremen—”

  “Inward, three flights up, second right.” He sidestepped past her and rushed off.

  The four of them exchanged brief looks before doing their best to follow the vague directions. After a couple of wrong turns, they came to a set of thick, wooden double doors. They were pitted and scarred, the smell of a recent fire still lingering about them. Two weary-looking guards watched their approach.

  “What do you want?” The shorter, broader guard was evidently in no mood for niceties.

  “It’s apparent that you’re having difficulties. We’ve been sent by the Council to investigate the problems here, as the issues have become rather widespread.” Ritsuko produced their packet of credentials along with her best smile.

  The guard examined all of the documents before swinging the doors open. “I hope you can do something, though bronze gods curse me if I know what.”

  He doesn’t sound hopeful, though.

  She nodded and murmured her thanks. The others followed when she stepped past the sentries into a large room dominated by the long table in the center. Papers were strewn over it, along with maps and other tokens. A small cluster of men and women were gathered around, arguing in low tones. Ritsuko noticed that the walls were thick, and without windows, the space seemed like a bunker, even though it wasn’t underground.

  “You must have important backers,” an older gentleman said. “Or you wouldn’t have gotten past Gates.”

  Ritsuko started, “Would you like to see our—”

  “Not in the least. I haven’t the time to waste. Just tell me what you’re about.”

  “We’re here to find out what you people mucked up. Sir.” Mikani had stepped past Miss Braelan. He leaned heavily on the table with both hands, sending a couple of mine clerks scrambling aside.

  “Listen—”

  “And then, we’ll deal with it, before the bloody mess drags everyone down with it. To do that, we need access to the mines.”

  The older man was trembling with rage or indignation. Mikani seemed to have that effect on people. But it was the man to his right that answered her partner.

  “We’ve been trying to figure out what happened for the past three weeks. Under most difficult circumstances.” Several of those at the table started talking at once.

  “Hells, man.” A thin, pale man dressed in Magnus livery raised his voice. “We’ve been fighting off crazed gnomes and salamanders for a week straight. If you have any answers, I’d love to hear them.”

  “Let us in. We’ll find your answers.” Ritsuko made eye contact with each of the men in turn. “We represent your best chance to resolve this.”

  The whole table devolved into a tumult as the managers discussed their request; some were vehemently opposed, fearing further retaliation by angry elementals. Others figured that they had precious little to lose, and if someone was going to get killed investigating, better it not be any of their own employees.

  As Mikani paced, Miss Braelan watched the argument. Irahi stepped up behind Ritsuko to lay a hand on her shoulder. She turned with a smile that felt tired and forced. If I had more energy, I’d interrupt, but it’s been a devil of a few days. Besides, she couldn’t think of anything to add. It wasn’t like her truth-sense, Mikani’s ability, or the other woman’s affinity with sylphs would help a lot deep in the bowels of the earth.

  Ritsuko leaned wearily against the doctor’s side. The man was built like a towering oak, and since this was his uninjured side, she had no compunction about taking advantage of his strength. Irahi slid an arm around her shoulders; she suppressed a wistful sigh, wishing Mikani was this free with affectionate gestures.

  “What do you think we’ll find down there?” she whispered.

  “No idea. But if the town’s preparing for a siege.”

  She nodded. The talk went on for several more minutes before the mine managers came to consensus. Eventually, the older man addressed Mikani. “We’ll let you in, but I can’t guarantee you’re all coming out again.”

  Though the foreman doubtless intended his words to be ominous, she couldn’t restrain a shiver. Let’s hope that’s a gloomy disposition talking, not a prophecy.

  • • •

  A HALF DOZEN guards escorted them down and deeper into the bowels of the building.

  Mikani barely noticed the workshops and refineries they passed, many of their doors torn open or molten into cooling slag piles. As they descended, the crowds thinned. By the time they reached the massive doors barring the way to the main mine shaft, he hadn’t seen another soul in five minutes or more.

  The guards hurried to open the gates and ushered them through. As the doors closed behind the four of them with an echoing boom, he could see the deep scars in the hardened wood. At least a dozen charred remains were scattered in the chamber they’d entered.

  The guards were not meant to keep us in line. They had to make sure nothing came out when we went in.

  Hu lifted his lantern higher to illuminate the way ahead. The main passage was at least fifteen feet high and wide, sloping down into darkness. Shattered lamps hung from charred ceiling supports, and in several places, the stone of the walls had been burned into dark glass.

  “Janus? What exactly are we going to do?” Saskia gazed around the tunnel, wide-eyed.

  She hates tight spaces. This must be terrifying her.

  “I’m still working on the details. Hopefully, Hu and I can beat or break whatever it is that’s causing this.”

  “And in the scenario where you two can’t use violence to resolve things?” Saskia asked.

  “Then Ritsuko and you will need to save the day.” He flashed a brief grin at his three companions before leading the way into darkness.

  They entered the main chamber where minecart tracks from a dozen different tunnels converged. He could see signs of struggle everywhere; broken tools and overturned crates littered the floor. At least one of the passages had collapsed.

  “We must be on the right track.” Hu was examining a pile of greasy ash on the floor. “Many people died badly here.”

  Mikani nodded and pressed on. Pain and despair rolled off the walls, from the air itself. The dark impressions churned the bile in his stomach, so that it surged into his throat. With some effort, he swallowed it down, moving toward vibrations he sensed deeper within.

  “This reminds me, rather unfortunately, of the last big case we resolved,” Ritsuko said softly.
r />   “We spend far too much time in dark, deep holes chasing monsters.”

  She made a quiet sound of agreement. Her footsteps reassured him, light and quiet but unmistakable. It was eerily still, no picks or machinery to disturb the stillness. Mines should be full of activity, rock being chipped, ore dropping into cars to be carried to the surface. It was some relief that he wasn’t picking up anything from Ritsuko anymore. Mikani didn’t know if she’d gotten over her hurt or whether she’d learned to block him.

  From behind, Saskia slipped her hand into his. Mikani squeezed her fingers in silent reassurance, trying not to let the hidden menace get to him. Hard not to worry when things can just step right out of the walls. To his right, the stone trembled a little, not hard enough for him to think it was an actual tremor. Something worse, probably.

  “Company?” Hu asked.

  “Likely,” Ritsuko answered.

  “Let’s not find out.” Mikani jogged back along the tunnel, taking the first side passage as the vibrations grew closer behind them. Rushing along in the jumping light of the swinging lantern, he stumbled into a wider chamber and nearly tripped. Saskia pulled him back as Hu and Ritsuko rushed in behind them; they hugged the walls and held as still as they could. The tremors rose in intensity to a small quake, raining rocks and dust, then faded.

  He waited in silence for another five minutes, listening intently. Far in the distance, something very angry and old was heading away from them.

  “We were lucky that time.” Hu was breathing heavily and cradling his ribs. “If we go deeper, we’re going to run headlong into one of those things, Mikani.”

  “I don’t think blind exploration is the wise move,” Ritsuko added.

  Saskia twisted her hands together, a sure sign she was distraught. For a wind witch, there was little more dreadful than being entombed. “We’re not ready for this, Janus. We don’t even know what we’re looking for. We need to find out more . . . you’re the inspectors, how do we proceed with this investigation?”

  While he considered, another rumble sounded in the distance. Hells and Winter. We’ll get killed if we race along without planning our strategy. We need a hint, a witness—

  “You’re right.” He could sense them, deeper in the mountain. “We need to find out what’s going on. We should ask.”

  “The foremen didn’t seem to know—”

  “No, not them. We go straight to the source. We’ll ask the elementals.”

  Ritsuko, Hu, and Saskia looked at him. He didn’t need his gift to tell him they suspected he’d gone mad.

  “How in the isles are we going to do that? I’m a weather witch, Mikani . . . I can influence the wind and some water spirits, not earth and fire elementals!”

  “They don’t seem all too eager to chat, Mikani.” Hu shook his head.

  Ritsuko was silent a moment. Then she asked, “What did you have in mind?”

  I can always count on you, partner.

  “There must be a way to fence one in. Then maybe we can force some answers out of it, get an idea of what’s going on. Anything is better than what we have at this point.”

  Hu and Ritsuko turned to look at Saskia. She chewed her bottom lip and played with her braid as she considered the problem.

  “I suppose I could try a simple lure and binding. That might draw in a lesser spirit. If—” She shook her head. “If we can draw in a fire spirit, I might be able to coerce it. Maybe. They’re little different from animals, so I’m not sure we’ll get anything useful out of one.”

  “We’ll take ‘maybe’ over nothing,” Mikani said. “Let’s get to work.”

  Saskia addressed the other two. “You may find this . . . disagreeable, but I need everyone’s help, or I won’t have enough energy for the spell.”

  “Whatever you need,” Hu said at once.

  Ritsuko looked less eager, more wary, but she nodded, too. Saskia opened her pack and set out various accoutrements. In the wavering light, it was impossible for Mikani to tell exactly what she was mixing in a glass vial, but she shook it vigorously to blend the components. Then she sprinkled the powder in a rough circle.

  “No matter what happens, don’t break this line,” she warned. Everyone murmured their agreement while waiting for further instructions. Saskia went on, “I need you to the north, Irahi. Mikani, to the west. Ritsuko to the east, and I’ll be south.”

  Since Mikani didn’t ordinarily participate in such rituals, he had no idea why he was moving to the west of the circle, but he did so. Saskia drew a small but wickedly sharp knife, concealed somewhere on her person, then she pulled it across her palm in a decisive motion. Hu bit out a curse and started toward her. At the last moment, he seemed to remember he wasn’t supposed to cross the dust on the ground, and he stepped back, grumbling. She turned her hand over, squeezing her fingers together so the blood spattered on the herbs and whatever else she’d blended for the spell, mingled scents of copper, minerals, and lavender.

  “Now the rest of you,” Saskia said.

  Miskani didn’t watch while Hu and Ritsuko sliced their palms. Saskia whispered from her position to the south, a low chant that raised the hair on the back of his neck. By the time Mikani was done with his own self-inflicted wound, something uncanny was happening. Their blood was no longer just random droplets rained down across the powder; instead, it was flowing with a purpose, joined in a flow that stained the powder red.

  And if I’m not imagining things, there’s a faint glow, too.

  The circle flashed brightly, forcing Mikani to shield his eyes. Someone—Saskia or Ritsuko, let out a pained cry. When he focused again, a flickering form swirled inside the circle, sparking against an invisible barrier. It glowed red and purple, but Mikani couldn’t clearly make out its form beyond a sense of supple grace and boundless energy. The all-too-familiar anger rolled off the elemental, but it was mingled with a hollow ache.

  It’s sad. No; it’s grieving. How can that be? That’s like a steam engine having a bad day; like a fish mourning his fellows caught in a net.

  The gyrating salamander stopped, now fully coalesced inside the circle. It glared at them with amber eyes and raked a three-toed claw against the summoning wards. The creature radiated heat, and it had translucent skin with fire trapped inside. Mikani had never seen anything like it.

  Why? The voice crackled in Mikani’s head.

  “Bronze gods . . .” Saskia stared at the creature, wide-eyed. “It can speak?”

  CHAPTER 20

  RITSUKO KNEW SO LITTLE ABOUT ELEMENTALS THAT SHE didn’t understand at first why everyone seemed so shocked. The creature bound in the circle writhed in rage, fire blazing in its inhuman eyes. Each time, it twisted and snapped back to the center. Wonder if it’s taxing to keep the thing trapped or if the blood we fed the wards do the heavy lifting. It wasn’t the time to improve her grasp on magical theory, however.

  “You’re a fool,” the salamander spat at Miss Braelan. “How long do you think you can keep me confined like this? Even now I can feel your amateurish measures fading.”

  Does that mean the spell’s of limited duration?

  “Then we’ll talk fast,” Mikani said.

  “Tell us why things have changed,” Miss Braelan demanded—but she sounded shaken.

  Ritsuko thought the direct approach was best, especially if they didn’t know how long this thing would remain trapped. Once it got free, she had no doubt it would boil all of their blood in their veins. Its flickering gaze swept over the group, then returned to Miss Braelan, who had captured it.

  “You dare to ask me this? After what your kind has done? Your stupidity is remarkable.”

  The rock beneath the salamander glowed, and she thought it looked as if the stone might be softening. How hot must it be? It was hard not to be terrified of a creature that could melt the flesh from your bones, but she also felt a pang of sympathy. She hadn’t the slightest notion that any of the elementals used by the great Houses had even a hint of free will. It was hor
rifying to contemplate the fact that House practitioners had been enslaving sentient beings.

  “Pretend we don’t know better. Well, not so much a pretense in my case.” Mikani shifted closer, but Miss Braelan shook her head violently as the elemental turned its attention on him. “As far as any of us knew, you . . . your kind, were remnants from another age. Husks. No more mind than—”

  The salamander hissed and flared, slamming into the barrier hard enough to nearly knock Mikani back with a wave of heated air.

  “We were chained, ensorcelled into a half-life! Your sorcerers stripped us of the will to resist until we had to withdraw to retain some shred of sanity.”

  “Bronze gods.” Miss Braelan held a hand up to her mouth with a horrified expression. “We didn’t know. Truly, we did not.”

  “Ignorance is no excuse, human.” It swirled and circled, as if testing the circle. Sparks rained down to the glowing stone floor; the air was becoming uncomfortably warm and dry as the creature raged. “For two centuries, you have enslaved us. Two hundred long years of pain and impotence. But that ends now!”

  “The gap in the barriers woke you up, and now you’re breaking free.” Mikani rubbed at his temples, a thin trickle of blood running down his upper lip.

  “That’s only the start. We’ll snap our chains, tear down the cages you’ve built around us. And we’ll come for you, all of you.”

  A jolt of unpleasant realization went through her. It’s talking about a revolution. Between what we saw from the craggers and this, Dorstaad could be a smoldering ruin sooner than I care to envision.

  She fought down her dread and managed a calm tone. “Who’s we?”

  “My brethren will roast you in your homes, and wind will tear them down around you. You will have noticed the vicious storms, yes?”

  “Water and earth aren’t involved?” Irahi asked quietly.

  The doctor had been so still that she’d almost forgotten about him.

  So, apparently, had the salamander. It jerked its serpentine head toward him and shimmered with wrath. “Water is weak and mutable. Earth is slow and stupid. We don’t require their aid to stamp your kind out like a pestilence.”