Silver Mirrors

by A. A. Aguirre

  “Perhaps all I want is to see my enemies vanquished,” Kaeheld said.

  “Then we’ll withdraw. I can’t help with that,” Ritsuko answered.

  Kaeheld stood quiet for a few seconds, a frown pulling his brows together. His men stirred, restless to fight or finish the retreat, but he raised a hand to silence them; and the stillness was instantaneous. The distant battle sounded loud by comparison. Pauses in between gunfire told Mikani they were running low on ammo or there were fewer defenders to pull the triggers.

  “You have brought the wrath of the spirits on us all. With your machines and your men desecrating the Dragon’s Hearth.” He pointed at the mountain behind them. The men closest to him made an unfamiliar hand gesture and bowed their heads. “You ask what we want. We need an end to the blasphemy. The wrath of the Dragon’s kin is already upon us all.” He stepped closer, and Mikani moved forward. For a tense moment, he looked straight into Kaeheld’s dark eyes. Then Ritsuko touched his arm, and he reluctantly stepped back.

  The chief continued, turning his attention back to Ritsuko. “The fire wyverns have destroyed many of our villages in the past months. Now, they all threaten to burst forth and raze the islands of the north. Then they will come for you, but not before the Northern Families have fallen. That, we cannot allow, Ritsuko of the Council.”

  “To prevent misunderstandings, you’re saying that the practices in the mines here have led to this . . . uprising? And your people have suffered as a result.” Ritsuko sounded mildly apologetic, but Mikani could understand her confusion.

  It’s a hell of a lot to take in. It’s like learning that the fireplace has feelings and is bloody tired of heating my cottage without being asked.

  “That is an understatement. The elemental spirits have been dishonored, disrespected, and bound against their will for far too long.”

  Ritsuko pushed out a soft breath, and Mikani heard Saskia muffle a sound of dismay. Hu was quiet at his shoulder, and Evans was still. He guessed the miner probably had his hands near the weapons he had reluctantly put away. This could go wrong so quick. Yet he admired his partner’s composure in the face of overwhelming superior force. It was probably the fact that she comported herself like a leader that made Kaeheld take her seriously.

  “It doesn’t excuse our actions,” Ritsuko said, “but we sinned out of ignorance, not malice. Advise me how we can make amends and restore order to the region.”

  “Amends? How do you make amends for two centuries’ toil, under chain and muzzle?” Kaeheld shook his head, and raised both arms. “The Dragon’s kin want the blood of men, and even that will not quell their anger. They have been slipping forth from the depths all along the Dragon’s spine mountains for weeks, now; and it is our families who have paid the price of your arrogance.”

  Mikani narrowed his eyes. He’s not telling us everything; he’s scared, but not terrified. He has a hidden ace. From Ritsuko’s expression, her newfound talent or experience as an Inspector—or both, told her the same.

  “That is not entirely true, sir.” She leveled a grave stare on the cragger chieftain, and the silent exchange went on until Kaeheld looked away.

  It wasn’t a sign of weakness, however. Instead, he seemed to be taking a quiet consensus by glancing at his men. A few of them shook their heads, but then one of them, probably a lieutenant, said, “We lost three golems already. Our force will be hard-pressed to take the city, defeat all defenders and the freed wyverns as well.”

  “Both sides would benefit from a peaceable solution,” Ritsuko said. “I’ve seen a lot of death tonight. I’d prefer to see no more.”

  The chieftain clenched and unclenched his hands, corded muscle rippling on his arms. I can feel the anger rolling off him. This is it; either he sees reason, or he strikes Ritsuko. Then I shoot him in the head, and it all goes to hell.

  “My son burned to death, not a week past. I would not be remembered for needless deaths when my time comes.”

  Ritsuko closed her eyes for a moment, her shoulders sagging in what Mikani judged to be relief. “Help us contain the salamanders. Wyverns. There must be a way . . . share what you know with us, please.”

  “Their anger burns bright . . . hot enough to wake the Dragon, if we don’t act quickly, Ritsuko of the Council.” Kaeheld turned and beckoned to someone in the throng. A dozen figures wound their way toward them, older and frailer than any soldier had a right to be. “These are the oldest and wisest of our Dream Weavers. Long since, they saw this threat coming, but their warnings went unheeded . . . and we are paying the price now.”

  The old men all held staffs, heavily decorated with bones, shells, and feathers. One seemed to be carrying a full spiderweb in a long branch, glimmering in the distant firelight.

  “We’re stopping an elemental uprising with shells and a spiderweb?” Evans sounded as if he was on the verge of panic.

  “We once interrupted a world-killing ritual with a store-bought talisman and a knife. Could be worse.” Mikani grinned at the other man. From the miner’s reaction, he wasn’t sure if he’d come off as confident or insane.

  “This is why you attacked here,” Ritsuko said in the tone of one making a critical deduction. “Instead of a more pivotal port. This isn’t the staging ground of a larger war. You intended to force the mine owners to permit you to make things right with the spirits, by force, since they broke their promises before.”

  “You are a clever woman,” Kaeheld said. “And our high king is a cautious man. We were sent to appease the Dragon while Hrothgar prepares to sail on Northport, should we fail.”

  “The increased attacks along the coast were because you needed supplies to replace those lost in trouble with the salamanders . . . and to provision for this push,” Saskia guessed.

  The cragger chieftain nodded, gazing toward Eldheim. “If you can promise us safe passage, our Weavers will do what we came to . . . and we’ll discuss reparations after.”

  Mikani couldn’t decide if the Chief was thinking of reparations for his people, or for the enslaved elementals. Either way, the Council will have a bloody fit if they even agree. I’m not looking forward to going home anymore. It seemed like forever since they’d rested, but this interminable night could only end if they found a way to appease the rebellious fire spirits. If the craggers know how to do it, we have to go along. Otherwise, this only gets worse.

  Ritsuko seemed to share his opinion. “We’ll talk to the commanders in Eldheim. Hold position here. We’ll return when we’ve finalized the accord.”

  CHAPTER 24

  IT TOOK ALMOST TWO HOURS OF ARGUING TO GET THE House soldiers to pull back. Ritsuko was heartily sick of everyone by the time they returned to the craggers and offered safe escort into Eldheim. The salamanders were burning everything that would catch, and a number of villagers had fled the town entirely. A makeshift camp was set up to the southeast, tents and wagons full of hastily gathered possessions. In most cases, that was all the refugees had been able to save.

  To keep things civil, Kaeheld didn’t bring his whole company; instead, he ordered most of them to hold their ground while a small party guarded the Dream Weavers. The cragger chieftain’s expression was grim as he followed Ritsuko through the burning town. She imagined he’d seen this more than once if his people had already faced the enraged salamanders. This truce was shaky at best, and the lieutenant who had agreed to it was young. Most of his superiors were dead, so it was clear that he really had no idea what he should be doing.

  We’re definitely overstepping our authority here. But better to face punishment later than to let everything burn and everyone die.

  Ritsuko glanced over her shoulder as they walked. Miss Braelan was deep in conversation with a couple of the cragger sorcerers, with Irahi following close behind. The doctor kept glancing Ritsuko’s way, offering tired-looking smiles as they wound their way through the ravaged streets. He ignored makeshift aid stations and the pleas for help as they passed, and she saw from his expression that it
cost him dearly.

  Mikani, on the other hand, seemed intent on taking in the destruction. He was frowning, gripping his rifle with white-knuckled hands over his shoulders. He must have sensed her gaze as he turned to meet her eyes. “This ritual of theirs will work.” A discordant note rang in her ear, as if he didn’t quite believe his own words . . . but he wanted to.

  So she tried to reassure him, knowing he must be imagining this scene set on the Summer Isle, perhaps in Dorstaad or north up the coast, where his family lived. “They know more of what is going on than we do. If they think it will work, we must believe that it will.”

  Or every town and city in Hy Breasil could end like this.

  “Not much choice, right.” He looked around once more. “Just wish I’d had a chance to warn my sisters. Now’s a hell of a good time for them all to tend the outlying fields, I think.”

  “The mirrors are down,” she said gently. “It’s not as if a letter would’ve gotten there in time. It’s not your fault. And I’m sure they’re fine.”

  Maybe.

  He was silent a moment. “I need to see them when this is done. You should come with me.” He paused to offer her a small grin that made him seem almost himself. “We bloody well deserve a vacation.”

  She raised a brow, keeping her expression neutral when her heart banged a little with surprise. “Are you inviting me home to meet the family, Mikani?”

  “Don’t worry, Ritsuko. I promise you, they’re nice. I’m the black sheep, remember?” He swung his rifle down to the crook of his arm, averting her gaze. “You’re my closest . . . Hells and Winter, Ritsuko. You’re my . . .” He shook his head, and finally said, “Yes. I am, Celeste.”

  Truth.

  Ritsuko would give a lot for him to complete that sentence. You’re my . . . what? Closest friend? Partner? But there was no time for her to speculate. So she nodded.

  “Then I’d love to go with you. I could use a break,” she admitted.

  Provided I don’t die of gangrene before then.

  Miss Braelan walked up, flanked by a half dozen of the Dream Weavers. The craggers were silent, but the weather witch looked excited and eager. “These Weavers . . . they remember things from before the Iron War.”

  From her history lessons, Ritsuko recalled that there had been a terrible conflict that nearly wiped out both humans and Ferishers. While the fae had magic, humanity had numbers and iron. In the end, it only ended through a treaty founded on marital alliances.

  And that’s how the great Houses were born.

  Miss Braelan went on, “I mean, not from books or even oral traditions, it’s like they were there! Bronze gods, do you know what this means? They were around when the Ferisher Courts still walked the islands. The craggers might have been on the first long ships to land in Hy Breasil a thousand years ago!”

  “Saskia? Focus. What do they need to do? How do we help?” Mikani held Miss Braelan’s gaze as she frowned, then nodded.

  “Right. We need to reach an old vent leading down to the mountain’s core.” She pointed to a small, craggy trail winding its way farther up the slope beside the collapsed administration building. “Come on then. We need everyone up there for this to work.” She hurried after the Dream Weavers as they walked past them and headed up the path.

  Mikani raised both brows and turned to Ritsuko. “If we need to throw a virgin into the volcano, we’re out of luck.”

  She glanced at the peach fuzz on the young lieutenant’s cheeks in silent suggestion. Mikani responded with a choked laugh, and they set off after the others. But before they’d gone more than ten steps, the ground shook. Not what resulted from an explosion, but bigger and deeper. Dust broke from shuddering walls, drifting on the wind.

  “You had to say ‘volcano.’ Uhm. Was he serious when he was talking about a dragon? That was . . . allegory, right?”

  “I heard tales, growing up. Krakens. Dragons. Old creatures from the times of the Ferishers.” Irahi had caught up to them. “Anything is possible, these days. And honestly, wouldn’t it be just grand to see a dragon?”

  “Only as long as it did not see us, Hu.” Mikani checked his rifle, then seemed to realize just what little use a bullet would be against a mythical beast and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Dragons,” she said with a sigh. “I suppose no adventure tale is complete without one.”

  They climbed for a couple of hours, the ground shuddering and groaning three more times while they traveled, until they reached the appointed spot. Closer inspection revealed a dark crevasse in the side of the mountain, easily thirty feet high and lined with jagged rocks. A red light glowed from deep within the chasm.

  It looks like a dragon’s maw.

  Miss Braelan motioned them forward, while the craggers spread out and pointed their staffs toward the opening. Kaeheld and his men formed a semicircle behind them.

  “Inspector Ritsuko, I need you with us at the front. Janus, Irahi . . . join Kaeheld’s men. Please try to be quiet and behave.”

  Mikani wore a deep frown. “Why do you need Ritsuko?”

  She laid a hand on her partner’s arm to silence his instinctive protest. He scowled, but moved off to join the craggers when she made it clear she was willing. Then Ritsuko turned back to Miss Braelan, her heartbeat loud as thunder in her ears. I hope I don’t regret this.

  “Where do you need me?”

  The other woman led her toward cragger sorcerers, who were chanting in low voices, creating an eerie a capella harmony. As one, they wove their staffs in elaborate patterns in the air, and though it might’ve been a trick of her tired eyes, Ritsuko could almost glimpse the trails of light left behind, designs not quite visible and etched in air.

  Kaeheld stepped forward from where he stood alone at the edge of the opening, waiting for them. His Weavers formed a circle around him, and remembering Miss Braelan’s earlier ritual, Ritsuko wondered if it was safe to pass. But her movement didn’t distract the sorcerers, so she took her place beside the cragger chieftain, hoping she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.

  A rumble came from deep within the cavern, rocking the ground. She kept to her feet by clutching Kaeheld’s arm; she expected him to rebuff her, but the chieftain’s gaze was fixed on the darkness, now brightening with a terrible glow. The chanting grew louder, the Weavers repeating the same syllables until they became nonsense noises and throbbed like ancient drums.

  Measured booms rang out, and it took her a few seconds to realize those must be footfalls, but they didn’t sound right. When the enormous salamander emerged into sight, she understood why. He was much larger than any others they’d encountered. The portion she could see was nearly twenty feet high, with six legs gripping the walls of the chasm—more like a spider than a reptile. Long frills flowed and stirred in the gusts of heat rolling off the creature, waving like living hair from each side of its elongated skull. Flames licked around the monstrous silhouette, framing the creature like a demon from a painting.

  “This is good, right?” Irahi whispered. “This is supposed to happen?”

  Ritsuko shared his doubt, but somehow she managed not to recoil. With each shift, the dragon drew closer, and the air heated until it felt like it must be burning her lungs. It grew difficult to suck in a new breath; her chest tightened. Beside her, Kaeheld seemed rapt, as if an old god had come to life.

  Then it spoke in a voice like thunder. “Small, brief ones, why have you called me?”

  • • •

  THE HARSH RED light cast by the massive elemental washed the color from everything; the pulsating heat made it hard to breathe in anything but short, shallow breaths that dried Mikani’s lips and made his throat ache.

  “We humbly request an audience.” The oldest Dream Weaver bowed low, and the others followed suit. “We ask your mercy, Lord Thuris, Dweller at the Mountain’s Heart, keeper of Fire. We ask the opportunity to make amends.”

  A sweltering shock wave nearly knocked Mikani down as the elemental roared; Kae
held kept Ritsuko on her feet. Only the shamans seemed unaffected, the heat wave rolling over them with a flutter of robes and dangling staff adornments.

  “The old pacts have been broken! You animals enslave my people. We retreated to the far lands, and you persisted in awakening us once more. Well, man, we are returned.”

  “They can be restored, Lord Thuris. We bring a Speaker for each isle.” The Dream Weaver motioned toward Kaeheld and Ritsuko.

  Oh, hells. What are they doing?

  Hu laid a heavy hand on Mikani’s shoulder; Mikani had not realized he’d tried to step forward until the big man pulled him back. “Interrupt and you kill us all, Mikani. Trust them.”

  Mikani bit back a retort.

  “We offer peace. We offer to renew the pure sanctity of your mountain. A stewardship, that none will again disturb your kin, Lord Thuris.”

  The salamander’s great head swayed toward Ritsuko and Kaeheld. Its eyes flared white-hot, and its claws sank into the bedrock at the lip of the chasm with the hiss of melting granite.

  “We had all that. We require restitution!”

  The old man stood taller, bracing his staff against the rock. “We have wronged the Dragon kin. We offer the Rites of Summer; when the land is coldest, we shall offer warmth. We offer the Bonds of Blood; the Speakers will bind their lives to restoring the pact. Your kin will be restored to the glory they knew in the old days, Lord Thuris.”

  The elemental made a deep, rolling sound. It straightened, towering well above them all.

  The Rites of Summer, Bonds of Blood? What in gods’ name is the old man offering? Hells and Winter, what’s he offering on Celeste’s behalf? I should have brought some grenades to help with this negotiation.

  “Warmth in the cold. A bond. Proper respect. Your words earn you a chance, man. But we have suffered. Peace and palliatives are not enough.”