Doppelganger (23 page)
"I'll come with you," Edame said, standing. "Lionra's a good woman, but I want to be sure the room's acceptable."
More stairs than Miryo cared to think about later, the servant led her into a small but well-appointed sitting room. "Your bedroom is through there," she said, indicating a fretwork door, "and here is another for your servants. There is a private bath behind that door."
"Indoor plumbing and heated water," Edame said with a wide smile. "I love my Ray." She strolled around the room and made an ostentatious show of checking the mantel for dust. "It'll do," she said at last. "Tell Lionra I thank her. I know it's difficult, having to arrange things on such short notice." The servant curtsied again and departed, closing the door behind her. "Even though it's her job," Edame added.
The door opened again almost immediately and the Cousins entered, laden with the bags. Miryo showed them the rooms and left them to unpack. Edame was standing in front of the sitting room's fireplace, looking restless. "Thank you," Miryo said to the Fire Hand. "This is much better than that inn."
Edame snorted. "Of course it is." She cocked her head to one side and studied Miryo. "How long are you staying?"
"I was planning on leaving tomorrow."
"Stay one more day. You look like you could use the rest."
Miryo hesitated. She wanted to be on the road; she felt that any delay would cause her to lose the faint pull she had been following so far. But nine days in the saddle had left her feeling as though her spine had fused into a solid rod, and a rest would be more than welcome. "All right. I'll leave the morning after next, then."
"Excellent. I'm told my Lord and Lady have arranged for some special entertainment tomorrow night, although they refuse to tell me what it is." Edame flashed another quick smile. "I shall leave you to your rest, then!" With that, the Fire Hand swept to the door and out, leaving Miryo to collapse gratefully onto her bed's feather mattress, not even pausing for a bath.
Long years of habit prevented her from sleeping late. Miryo was up not long after the sun, and she awoke feeling unbearably grimy. The rains on the coast had not made it over the hills, and the dust on the road the previous day had been appalling. That, combined with the sweat of a night spent indoors in a lowland summer, made her skin crawl.
Her first task, then, was to clean herself. Once that was done, Miryo felt much more inclined to face the day, and the volatile Fire Hand who would no doubt track her down during it.
Sai was in the sitting room when Miryo finally emerged, clean and dressed. "Where's
Once out of her room, she wasted no time in getting lost. She debated asking a servant for directions, but decided to wander for a bit longer; she wasn't too hungry yet, and the one task she wanted to accomplish today needed no special rush.
She emerged into an unfamiliar hall just as Edame began descending a staircase at the opposite end. "There you are!" the witch called out, hastening her steps. "Come with me. I'm off to see if I can discover what is afoot for tonight. Surely
someone
here knows; the servants know everything."
"Actually," Miryo said, forestalling her, "I was wondering if you could do me a small favor."
"Certainly! Provided you don't want me to convince Iseman to declare war on anyone."
"Nothing like that. I was just wondering—do they employ a court artist here?"
Edame snorted. "Every Lord and Lady in the east, and a lot of less important people, employ court artists. There are two here. One does tedious landscapes and the other specializes in overly flattering portraits of spoiled noble , children. Do you have a preference?"
"The latter, if that's all right."
"Certainly." Edame gave her a curious look. "What do you need done?"
Miryo quirked an eyebrow and smiled.
"Your business again, is it? Miryo, I swear to the Goddess, you keep your mouth more tightly closed than any woman I've met. But so be it. I'll take you to Ryll. You're in luck, actually; he, unlike his colleague, is awake at this hour. Tothe never rises before noon if he can help it. And all his landscapes are sunsets because of it." Even as she spoke, Edame set off through another door, taking Miryo through a confusing knot of hallways before halting in an archway. "Are you in, Ryll?"
A thin, middle-aged man came out of a back room. "I am, Edame-nai. How may I help you?"
"You can't help me, not unless you know what's planned for this evening." He shook his head, and Edame sighed. "I thought not. Well, then, I'll leave my sister Miryo here, as she's the one who really wanted to see you. I'm off to find someone who
does
know." Then she was gone, leaving Miryo alone with the artist, who did his best to erase a long-suffering expression when he realized she was looking at him. "I'm sorry, Katsu. I forget my manners. Please do be seated. How may I be of service to you?"
"I'm told you do portraits," Miryo said as she took a chair.
Ryll nodded. "Do you wish me to paint one of you?"
"Yes and no. I don't need a painting, and in fact I won't be staying here long enough for you to finish one. If you could do just a quick sketch of my face, though, I would be deeply indebted to you."
The artist pursed his lips and studied her face. "In charcoal?" Miryo nodded. "This is possible. You are certain, though, that you do not want something more elaborate? I could arrange to have it shipped to you; even with just a sketch to work from I'm sure I could do a lovely portrait. You have such vivid coloring."
Ryll was evidently one of those men who did not find witches too intimidating to court. Miryo wondered if he had cast any looks at Edame. And how such looks had been received. "A sketch will be sufficient, thank you."
He bowed with good grace. "As you wish, Katsu. Would you like to begin now?"
"If you're free."
"I am always free to serve one of your sisterhood. If you haven't eaten yet, I can have servants bring food up while you sit for the sketch."
"That's very kind of you."
"Then come this way," Ryll said, gesturing her toward the back room. She glimpsed an easel and a half-painted canvas through the doorway. "We will get started right away."
In the end Ryll made several sketches for her, each at a different angle. He was more talented than Edame had given him credit for; the sketches, hastily done, were nevertheless quite recognizable, and the paintings in his back room were elegant. Miryo thanked him, and tried her best to get him to accept a small fee, which he refused with many bows and a few more attempts at flirting.
She took the sheets back to her room and debated venturing out to try and find Edame. She needed to know what would be happening tonight, after all. But the thought of navigating the keep's halls left her feeling drained. In the end the choice was taken out of her hands, because she fell asleep.
Nine days of travel had tired her out more than she had thought, and her sitting room was sunny and pleasant. Miryo sat down in a comfortable chair to consider her search, and woke up several hours later. The room had grown dim in the late-afternoon light, and no one else was there. Miryo stretched, wondering where the Cousins were, and went to bathe again. She knew her presence would be expected at supper tonight, and it would be better not to show up with an imprint of the chair's upholstery on her cheek.
Clean once more—she wondered if everyone here bathed several times a day in the summer, to alleviate the heat—she shook out the one nice dress she owned and looked at it ruefully. It was hardly the sort of thing she had hoped to wear for her first presentation to domain rulers. But there wasn't anything to be done; she had nothing finer. And it was too late now to ask Edame for another gown, even had she been able to overcome her pride.
A loud knock at the door made her jump, and then the witch herself swept in, holding an armful of fabric. "I was hoping I'd find you here," Edame said briskly. "Here, this ought to fit you—you're a slight thing, aren't you?"
Miryo took the proffered silk and shook it out. The dress was embroidered with silver thread, and quite a bit finer than the one she had just dropped on the floor.
"Good color for you," Edame said, smoothing out the dark gray silk. "Sets off your hair wonderfully. It will look much better on you than it does on the mousy brown creature who owns it. I'll convince her to give it to you as a gift."
"That won't be necessary," Miryo said hastily.
"Nonsense. You're a witch; you deserve to own at least one pretty thing, and depending on what Ray you choose you may never have the coin to buy it. Put the dress on. I've found out what Iseman has arranged for this evening."
"What is it?" Miryo asked as she stepped behind the painted dressing screen.
"Just you wait," Edame replied mysteriously. "Does the dress fit?"
Miryo emerged a moment later, tugging the sleeves straight. "It's a bit loose, but that's fine."
"Turn around." Edame fiddled with the intricate lacing of the back, which Miryo had not known what to do with. Hairan court clothing—even something as simple as this—was much more complex than she was used to. The fabric of the dress rose and fell and rearranged itself into a much more flattering shape. "Wonderful. You're a credit to Star-fall. Now come quickly; we don't have much time before they sound the call to supper." Edame whisked her out the door and back through the maze of the keep's halls. After just a few moments they came to a gallery overlooking a hall, and Miryo heard a low murmur of voices.
The Fire Hand gestured for her to come look. Approaching the rail, Miryo looked down at the men and women in the room below and caught her breath. "
Dance [Miryo]