Mirror Bound

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  wool was brought to the factory by ship, and the finished woollen cloth was taken away by the same ships.

  We passed the building quickly, entering a different part of town altogether, with very high buildings, apartments most likely, not exactly poor, but rather lifeless. 'Where are all the people?' I asked, and Paul answered: 'At work, in that factory.'

  Of course, but there should be children in the street, so I asked: 'But where are the children then? At school?' 'Also in the factory,' was the pained answer, 'working.' I didn't want to know anymore, my heart ached for those destitute children, but who could hope to save children if their own parents allowed them to work in a factory?

  My parents weren't rich, but I had had a youth, playing in the streets with the other neighbourhood children. Once we had crossed this neighbourhood as well, we came to what looked like a woodland park, but with a high fence around it. Paul followed the fence for a while, until we came to a gate. He announced himself to the gate-keeper, and was shown in immediately. We were also allowed to pass.

  The contrast was incredible, the quiet freshness of a wood in summer surrounded us instantly, as we walked on a well hardened path between the trees. Soon, the trees opened on a beautiful scenic landscape, with grass-covered hills surrounded by lines of trees, and with stunning solitary trees scattered here and there among the hills. It seemed endless, what was this doing in a town?

  Chapter 19

  Reading our question in our expressions, Paul said: 'Sir Nomes' family lived here well before the city spread over the rest of the woods, and he is rich enough even now to refuse to sell at even the steepest prices offered.

  He is an adept in a different magic tradition from me, he has enough magic to keep the woods unspoiled, even with smoking factory and coal-burning high rises next door. He is my main ally here, I've had a lot of help from him since I became a guardian when the former one, hmm, passed away.'

  Now Lukas interjected: 'Do I get the feeling here that few guardians reach their retirement?' Paul could not lie, so he didn't even try: 'Ours is a hazardous profession, but if we survive the rough first years, we generally live quite long in very good health. The last guardian was nearly a hundred and fifty years old. He was very good, and never felt the need to retire.

  Though he did leave me with this mess, that factory and its unsavoury owner.

  If we follow this path, we'll reach the house in ten minutes.' But we didn't need to walk any further, for a small carriage with two very cute miniature ponies came towards us at breakneck speed. It drove a surprisingly small circle around us and came to a sliding stop just in front of us. The driver, a girl of about ten years old, was dressed in a semblance of a livery, but very elegantly, and her hair was done expertly. This was no personnel, this was one of the family.

  'May I offer you lady and gentlemen a ride in my carriage please,' the girl said politely, lifting her cap like a real coach driver, showing blonde curls.

  Paul evidently knew her, for he bowed to her and spoke, just as politely: 'You may, Miss Bertha Nomes.' The girl called out: 'Paul, it's you! You've come back! Who are your friends?'

  I bet she would have liked to hug him like the old friend he apparently was to her, but she needed to keep her hands on the reins to control the team, which she did admirably. Paul walked up to her and kissed her, saying: 'May I introduce my friends to you, Miss Melissa Thorn, who is an engineer, and my esteemed apprentice Mr Lukas.

  What is your last name, Lukas? I don't remember ever asking.' 'You didn't,'

  was Lukas' answer, 'my last name is Hermeides, Lykos Hermeides is my full name, and I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Nomes.' That last of course said to the girl, with an flourishing bow. He must indeed be noble, was my immediate thought, to talk to a girl of such breeding so easily.

  The girl said: 'That is a weird name, how did you get that?' Still very politely, and very elegantly, he replied: 'It is a Greek name, Miss, I'm from Greece.

  My father was called Hermes, and in Greece 'ídes' means, son of. And Lykos means wolf, but I've taken a more English sounding name, Lukas, or I'd be explaining myself every time I meet someone new.'

  The girl thought about this, then said: 'I was named after my grandmother.

  I'm pleased to meet you, will you ride in the carriage?' Lukas clearly looked forward to speeding in that carriage, and gladly accepted. Paul and I confirmed as well, and as soon as we were seated, the ponies sped away, apparently not even feeling our combined weight.

  The girl was a good driver, though it was clear she was instructed to take it slowly with visitors. She was chatting to Lukas, who had sat down next to her, and I heard her offer to show him what the ponies could do after Paul and I had gotten out of the carriage. He laughingly accepted, looking forward to a really fast ride.

  He did like speed in everything, he'd be thrilled to fly over those rolling hills with another adrenalin junkie.

  In just a minute we were at the house, a lovely rambling building, covered in an antique but thriving wisteria. It was not what I had expected from such a respectable family, but of course Paul had told me they were pagans as well, so in a way it wasn't that surprising to find their home much more liveable and a lot less stately than one would expect.

  A very elegant man was standing in front of the house, dressed simply, but with so much attention to detail that I was convinced straight away that this was the master of the house. I would have given him forty five years, fifty at most, and though his hair was greying it didn't make him look old, but rather distinguished.

  Paul got out of the carriage and helped me out, claiming me in a subtle way, I sensed. Lukas stayed where he was, at Miss Bertha's insistence I guess, for she merely waved at her father and they were off, top speed this time. They disappeared into the hills in a frighteningly short time, and Sir Nomes

  watched the scene mildly, assuring us: 'She's a really good driver, and the team is totally reliable, your friend will be perfectly safe.'

  Then he shook hands cordially with Paul, saying: 'Dear Paul, it has been too long, why do we always let so much time slip by before we meet again?' Paul replied in the same tone: 'I have no idea, George, I also wonder each time we meet. May I introduce you to Miss Melissa Thorn, my apprentice in the arts, and my house-mate.'

  Shaking hands with Sir Nomes I had a distinct feeling I was being measured, but I had no clue why, or to which standard, until our host addressed Paul very directly: 'More that just a house-mate I see, and not only an adornment if she is your apprentice as well.' This made Paul look a little embarrassed, but I would find out why only later.

  Now Sir Nomes looked at me and said: 'Welcome to the family, Melissa. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better the coming hour or so.' And if I may ask, who is Bertha's willing victim? I'll shake hands with him later, if he doesn't shake already with fear.'

  This made Paul laugh, and I heard his doubt colour his voice: 'I think your Bertha has met her match in daredevilry in my apprentice in the other arts, Lukas Hermeides. He's Greek, and he revels in speed of any kind.'

  Now Sir Nomes looked at Paul speculatively, and bit suspiciously: 'And is he also a house-mate? He doesn't look altogether human in his aura, if he is what his Greek origins suggest, he may need some extra attention in that quarter.'

  Resignedly, Paul observed: 'As sharp as ever, but don't worry, your girl will be perfectly safe with him.' This made Sir Nomes chuckle, and he retorted: 'I wasn't thinking of my girl, but of my esteemed wife, and I wasn't afraid for her, but for him.' Paul shrugged, and replied: 'He can take care of himself, and he is indeed an expert in the noble art lady Nomes enjoys so much.'

  These guys were having a whole conversation around me, I knew they were exchanging a lot of innuendo, but understood only smatterings.

  Sir Nomes shrugged too, and replied: 'We each have our interests, my Frances and I, and of course we have our four lovely children. But let's not just stand here, let me introduce Miss Thorn to the rest of the family,
and have a refreshment. I'm sure you had a long trip, and you, my young lady, look just about done for.'

  Which was true, my magic use had really tired me, and seeing all those awful scenes didn't improve my energy. The beautiful scenery here did a lot to

  improve my mood, but it did not revive me enough, a cup of coffee would be very welcome to do that.

  Paul did nothing to hide our intimacy, so I felt free to use his arm to support me as we followed our host around the house to the back garden. It was stunning, the most beautiful garden I had ever seen.

  I stood speechless, and when Paul took me to a comfortable chair I could still only gape at the combinations of plants, the trees, the ornaments, everything was in the best taste and totally one. 'Please sit down Miss,' our host said concernedly, 'we don't stand on ceremony here.' He really looked at me now, and turning towards Paul: 'What did you two do, have a duel with an evil warlock?'

  Helping me into the seat, Paul answered the frivolous question deadly seriously: 'That is connected to the goal of our visit. Melissa has a special talent for seeing through things, and it is constantly developing, she is discovering new uses all the time, seeing things we don't. But every new discovery has a great price.

  She has just seen something amiss at the factory, and combined with the state of the land there and the homeless children, she is at the limit of her energy.'

  Sir Nomes nodded understandingly, and, ringing a bell, he said calmingly: 'I understand. Well, we are a family with a long tradition not only in magic but also in herb lore, and I have just the thing to put your talent at ease.'

  A servant had appeared, and our host asked him: 'Please make Miss Melissa here a cup of tea from the red jar, and be generous with the honey.' The servant disappeared in the house, and returned almost immediately with a steaming cup of tea still steeping.

  I was amazed how quickly he had done that, until I realized they probably had one of Paul's lovely boilers in the kitchen. No, not in the kitchen, they had staff to man the kitchen. They probably had it somewhere visible, Paul's boilers were too beautiful to hide away.

  The tea smelled like the stuff I had used to revive Paul after the search, very stimulating. And when I drank it, it tasted differently, that was the honey of course. But it also felt different, now I had overused my magic it not only revived me, it also resolved a starting headache, and it kind of filled up a sort of emptiness inside me, as if it replenished part of the energy the working of magic had taken out of me.

  I asked Paul: 'Is this the same tea I made for you after the search?' and he

  answered: 'It is, I have a supply at my place as well, which I get from the mistress of the house. I'm surprised you recognized it with the honey added.' I replied: 'I smelled it, it does taste differently. And it works incredibly well, even my magical energy seems restored.'

  Here it was our host's turn to be surprised: 'You can feel that? Then I know why you're Paul's apprentice. My esteemed wife is our herb specialist, she has also designed and planted this lovely garden. She's probably at work in her greenhouse, I'll take you to her later and introduce you to her, there is something I'd like to ask Paul about that greenhouse anyway. But now, why don't you tell me what you came to discuss?'

  In the meantime, Paul and he had sat down as well, and servants brought coffee and a silver plate with beautifully decorated cakes. Our host urged us to 'dig in' the cakes, and since we've had a long walk I was eager to try one.

  They were as delicious as they were pretty, and after another one of those cups of special tea, which Sir Nomes ordered especially for me, I was handed a cup of coffee. I often drank coffee, but this was not ordinary coffee, it was so much better, even better than Mr Millner's.

  Our host thoroughly enjoyed my expression as I took my first sip, and he triumphantly said: 'Good, isn't it? The misses again, she imports this stuff from a special farm in the Indies. She's taken a fancy to trying to grow some herself, wouldn't put it past her do do it, and successfully, she has the greenest fingers I've ever had the privilege to see on a person. But we'll get to that point later. First things first.'

  Paul now summarised to Sir Nomes what we had seen so far: 'It all started in a little park near my home, I spotted a clump of trees that was not doing well, they were ailing for lack of care by their dryads. The dryads didn't come out to greet me either. That was yesterday morning. I did a search that afternoon, with Melissa anchoring me.'

  This sounded so defensive I suspected Paul had been berated in the past by Sir Nomes for searching on his own, and our host's comment proved it:

  'Good, so you've finally found some sense somewhere.'

  Paul just continued: 'We saw that wasteland adjoining the factory, the destitute children, and we saw the dryads there, filthy as sin, faces blank, living in trash cans and filling them with worthless junk objects, arranged as if they were precious belongings.'

  'They were hoarding?' our host exclaimed. Obviously remembering the

  shocking scene, Paul replied: 'They most certainly were. They didn't care about their trees anymore, nor each other, just the junk they collected.

  This morning, Lukas and Melissa checked another park close to her day-job, and found four more possibly affected trees. She didn't dare check by sight, for she'd already used quite a lot of magic this morning. I wondered if you had similar happenings here, and if you'd ever heard of this before.' Sir Nomes took his time contemplating what Paul had told him.

  He said: 'Please take another cup of coffee, some more cakes, I'll have to think about this for a while.' And of course we did, it was such good fare, it was not just our host being rich, these people clearly cared about what they ate and drank, and were knowledgeable about food, especially plant based I guessed.

  As we were munching on another cake, and Sir Nomes was digesting information, a young man nearly my own age came in. He immediately embraced Paul, who had stood up to greet him.

  'It's been such a long time again,' the young man said, 'who's your pretty friend, can I hug her too?' They were clearly very good friends, laughingly Paul introduced me: 'Marcus, this is Melissa Thorn, my apprentice in the arts, and also my house-mate.

  Melissa, this is Marcus Nomes, the eldest and at the same time only son of Sir Nomes. He wants to hug you.' I accepted his hug of course, Paul and him were apparently such good friends, I hoped we would be friends too.

  Marcus said appreciatively: 'House-mates, eh?'

  What was it with these guys? They sounded more like teenage boys than high nobility, though of course Marcus probably still was in his teens, so he had a certain right to talk like that.

  'We've brought another friend, who was abducted by your youngest sister, to show how fast her ponies could run,' Paul said.

  'I hope he has a strong stomach,' Marcus observed, 'riding in that carriage always makes me slightly nauseous, but that may be my sister's driving style.'

  I put in my two cents: 'Lukas thrives on speed, so I guess he will be just fine.'

  Marcus now poured a cup of coffee and selected a few cakes from the plate, sitting down with his booty on the table in front of him.

  By now, Sir Nomes had come out of his near-trance, and told us what he'd remembered: 'I've heard of dryads leaving their trees before, I didn't experience it myself but was told about it by a colleague from Ireland.

  Of course they have many more faeries there, the landscape being much less overpopulated and spoiled than ours. These faeries left their trees because their souls had been stolen by a warlock, and they moved towards the place where their souls were, in this case the warlock's castle. I think they were also hoarding, but pine-cones and stones and feathers, natural stuff.

  When the warlock was destroyed, the dryads got their souls back and moved back to their trees. Whether any survived with their trees in such a bad shape I don't know, the story didn't say. Let's ask Frances as well, trees are her domain, so she may know about dryads as well.'

  Marcus had been listening to his fa
ther intently, and he now spoke up: 'I've noticed several trees not looking well on our own grounds, dad, I was meaning to tell you. I saw them when I was out hunting the day before yesterday. It was the clump of birches in the swampy bit, where the moss hangs in the trees.

  And the old oak on the second hill, too bad, such a beautiful tree. But I thought it was just old.'

  Sir Nomes replied: 'Oaks can get as old as seven hundred years, boy, but I'm glad you thought to tell me now. I'll check them out.

  Bertha can drive us there with the show ponies. The ones she's using now will probably be quite tired when she gets back.' Marcus was shocked: 'You'll let her drive the show ponies? You wouldn't let me until I was at least fifteen, and I never came as near breaking anyone's neck as she does her own every day!'

  Indulgently, Sir Nomes told his son: 'I'm not letting her drive them on her own, I'll be there with her the whole time.

  And though you may not believe it, she can control both herself, and those ponies.' Marcus now proved he was indeed still a teenager, for he shrugged and said: 'Whatever.'

  I thought it would be wise to keep him away from Lukas, for if they were to like one another, interesting things might happen, involving raves and plenty of city girls.

  Chapter 20

  In the meantime, Paul had digested Sir Nomes' information: 'So you think the dryads have had their souls taken away, probably by someone using evil magic. What is the use of a stolen soul?' Our host replied: 'If one owns a stolen soul, it gives magical power that cannot be seen, it leaves no traces to our sight.'

  Of course, this made even me suspicious of the owner of that factory. His terrain was impenetrable by magic sight, according to Paul, that couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Paul now asked: 'What would be the most efficient way to check your grounds for affected trees? Besides the two Marcus mentioned?'