Broken Mirrors

by A. F. Dery

  “Will the first petitioner please come forward,” the chief magistrate finally intoned. They would have been appointed numbers the day before. There was a sudden commotion as a cloaked figure rose from the a bench at the very rear of the room and made his way forward. Thane kept his face schooled into a blank, but inside, he was every bit as curious as the crowd seemed to be, for he noticed at once the same thing they must have; this figure was no Eladrian. The heavy dark cloak it wore shrouded its face in darkness, but the proportions within were entirely incorrect for one of their kinsmen; tall, but not quite tall enough; stout, in a strange, square-shouldered way that no Eladrian was. But it was not even that so much as the strange, shuffling waddle, one leg swung before the other and the torso almost seemed to lag a moment behind before shimmying forward. Thane glanced at Kesara to observe her reaction at no longer being the only foreigner in the room and was unnerved to see she’d gone utterly white, staring at the waddling figure wide-eyed with what appeared to be shock or disbelief. Or perhaps both.

  Thane made a discreet signal with one hand, not even moving it from where it rested on the arm of the throne. He didn’t know who this person was, but if Kesara was so visibly alarmed, it couldn’t hurt to have reinforcements in case of trouble. Still, what trouble could one foreigner be in a roomful of Eladrians?

  The figure came to a halt before the throne, behind a small stand put up for the purpose. Thane thought he heard an odd grunting sound as the figure reached up a black-gloved hand and tugged the cowl down from around its head.

  It was a credit to Thane’s self restraint that he stopped himself in time from reacting. As it was, the row of judges seated up front with him, who could see the man’s face, reacted with anything from gasps to shouted invocations of their deities. For it was not a man at all before them, but...a pig. A giant pig that apparently walked upright on its back legs. Thane had never in his life seen its like. Its eyes, he noticed at once, were the eyes one would have expected of a man. They were round and hazel, ringed with long dark lashes, and there was no mistaking the intelligence in them.

  Thane raised one hand, and the judges quieted at once, as did the crowd, which, not seeing the pig-man’s face, had been murmuring amongst themselves in confusion and surprise at the judges’ reactions. Thane supposed the pig-man must look fairly normal from behind, or normal for a foreigner, anyhow.

  All at once, the pig-man’s grunting resolved into low-voiced, raspy speech. “Greetings, Dread Lord Eladria. I am Master Graegun, lately of Mirith Province along the Ytaren border. I have come to reclaim my apprentice, one Kesara Jonril.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Thane said politely.

  The hazel eyes narrowed. “I believe you know of whom I speak, my Lord. Let us be honest one with another. There are too few Mirrors in this world to mistake one for another, and I have tracked this one to your very door. I have waited until the day of your country’s judgment in deference to your customs, now I must demand my right.”

  “I am not aware of your rights, Master Graegun,” Thane said carefully, hoping he had not mispronounced the name when he voiced it without its accompanying grunts, as its bearer had. “Perhaps you might explain yourself?”

  The pig-man relaxed, his fleshy lips parting slightly in a smile. “Of course, my Lord. I knew you would prove reasonable. You see, I bought the rights to her fourth and final year of apprenticeship from the Triumvirate, to be concluded with her testing. However, I had not completed her testing when she absconded from my estate to your country. Her testing was part of the contract and I am still owed it.”

  “I see,” said Thane. “You are aware that you did not make this contract with me? Or in my country?”

  The smile faded. “But why would you not honor it? I have brought the appropriate documents to prove my claim. The girl herself would no doubt verify as well.”

  “Even though she ‘absconded?’”

  “Of course. I am sure it was merely a misunderstanding that she left before I’d gotten my full due. But even if not, she owes me the right to her final testing. I paid, and I demand what I paid for.” The pig-man’s grunting had grown still more pronounced, his snout now quivering wildly in his indignation.

  “Slavery is highly illegal here,” Thane said calmly.

  The pig-man let out a sudden, piercing squeal that made the crowd behind him, rapt until now, erupt in a cacophony of bewilderment. Thane saw the uneasy movement of the troops he’d summoned from just beyond the doors, where they would await his next signal. He gave them a slight, discouraging shake of his head, keeping his eyes on the pig-man.

  “I must protest, my Lord! What infamy, to suggest such a vile thing!” the pig-man squealed. “I would never partake of so barbaric a practice as you suggest! This was not slavery, but a contract for services rendered! If she can be said to be anyone’s property, she is not mine, but her true masters’, the Triumvirate! I merely hired her! And I intend to collect what I am owed!”

  “You did not make the contract with her, but with her captors, and you would like me to honor it?” Thane asked mildly.

  “They are not her captors, my Lord, you must know that Mirrors are not even persons, properly speaking, such as you or I.” Thane raised an eyebrow at this lumping together of himself and what appeared for all the world to be a sentient pig into the same category of personhood, but the pig-man continued obliviously, “Their own parents abandon them to death as the rubbish they otherwise are. The Triumvirate is good enough to rescue them, to give them a place in the world where they may harness their abilities for the greater good.”

  “By which you mean ‘the greater wealthy,’” he commented. He could feel his patience waning but was determined to hang onto it by tooth and nail, if need be. He felt there was something to be learned here.

  Again the pig-man squealed and Thane raised his hand. “You must stop that, sir, or I shall construe it as assault on my person. My ears, specifically,” he said. The pig-man’s pink flesh deepened to red and the unintelligible grunting came fast and furious now, the snout positively shaking in its violence, but no further squealing issued forth.

  “My Lord,” the pig-man practically spat, “will you at least view the documents in question? You will see there can be no question of my right to the creature.”

  “Was the, ah, creature, of lawful age when the contract was formed?”

  The pig-man gave a decisive nod. “Yes, my Lord, did I not say it was her final year?”

  “Then I have no need to see your documents. They are inadmissible here. By Eladrian law, no contracts can be entered into by third parties on behalf of an individual who is of the age of the majority. She has her own rights by my law, and I am have neither the jurisdiction nor the inclination to enforce the laws of others. If you wish, you may take the matter up with the persons who made this contract with you, but be forewarned we hold no extradition treaty with Ytar so you would not get very far.”

  “My Lord, I have already addressed the Triumvirate. It is against their usual policy to pursue individuals this far past their own borders. They offered me a...replacement.” The pig-man looked appalled.

  “Then the matter has been resolved.”

  “No, it most certainly has not. There is no ‘replacement’ for this particular Mirror. I would not be able to get even half so far with this creature’s peers as I could with her. It is a real travesty of justice. You will allow me my rights, or I will take them by force,” the pig-man growled.

  Thane was on his feet so quickly that the pig-man staggered back a step in surprise, cringing away as Thane scowled blackly down at him. “If your corpse is so capable, then by all means, make the attempt,” he growled. He signaled for his men.

  Before Thane could draw another breath, let alone his ax, Graegun whirled towards Kesara, where she still sat as though absolutely frozen. He threw something down on the ground between them with a loud shattering noise, and dark fog immediately erupted, filling the air with astonishing speed
and spilling out rapidly to fill the room. Thane recognized the device at once, and he felt his blood freeze in his veins at the sight of it, used here and now.

  “Malachi,” he hissed. He’d given his one-time friend devices such as these before. He knew of no one else who had learned the trick. Could it be? But how would he even have known about Kesara, let alone directed this pig-creature to her?

  The advancing soldiers hesitated, coughing and staggering as the heavy gray fog rapidly obscured their vision. It was not poisonous, as such, but it tainted the air, made it difficult to breathe, burned the eyes and made them water. The assembled crowd of petitioners shouted and surged away towards the windows and doors, knocking over benches in their haste. Thane held his breath and plunged quickly into the grayness, striking out an arm in hopes he could at least take down the pig-man before he made it to Kes, but when his arm met empty air, he knew it was too late for that.

  He backed away from the fog and bellowed, “Seal the doors! No one leaves!”

  But Kesara had been seated by the side door, and as the fog began to dissipate, Thane saw it still stood wide open, the troops who had been standing there still dazed and disoriented from when the fog had overtaken them, no doubt mere moments before Graegun and his new captive had passed through their midst.

  They were gone.

  Kesara spent the next few hours berating herself silently for just sitting there awaiting her return to captivity. She ought to have fled the moment she recognized the creature for what he was, or in the very least, the moment she knew who he was. But she had been paralyzed in her shock and fear, unable to even summon forth her own abilities to aid her when he had advanced on her, as stunned that he had managed to find her, or even that he had gone to the effort of doing so, as she was by whatever trick he had used to call forth that fog that had allowed his escape and her abduction. She knew her former master could be clever, but she had not for a moment suspected him of such daring and subterfuge as he demonstrated now. There was no doubt in her mind that if it had been a fair fight, or a fight at all for that matter, the Eladrian giant would have squashed Graegun like a bug under his boot.

  But Graegun had been clever and had not been paralyzed as she had been, rushing towards her as the fog spilled out from whatever he had thrown and striking her sharply in her already abused head the moment he was within reach of her. Mercifully, she’d blacked out at once, but she had not been at all surprised upon waking to find herself bound hand and foot in the back of some sort of wagon, a coarse blanket thrown over her. Her head was pounding with a headache worthy of Lord Eladria and her mouth tasted like metal, though there was nothing in it. She could hear Graegun’s continual monologue of incoherent grunting from somewhere behind her, no doubt driving the thing.

  She wiggled, ignoring her complaining ribs, and eventually managed to shift the blanket enough off her face to partially glimpse a darkening sky. Dusk already? How long had she been out? An uneasy thought came to her that he might have drugged her somehow after he’d hit her. That much could indeed have been expected of him. In fact, the many things which she could expect from him now flooded her mind with a clarity that belied the fact that she had done her best for almost a year to pretend her time with him had never been.

  Oh gods, I can’t go back there, I can’t, she thought desperately. Her chest felt as though a giant fist were squeezing it and her throat ached with the sob she didn’t dare release. Please, please, no, not this, not him.

  The wagon jerked to an abrupt halt, throwing her against the side. She gritted her teeth against the answering pangs in her ribs and head, knowing they would soon be the very least of her concerns. She hastily closed her eyes and tried to even her breathing, feigning unconsciousness.

  Kesara heard the groaning of the wagon’s seat as Graegun no doubt climbed down, his grunting and snuffling growing steadily louder as he came around to the back of the wagon. She felt the blanket being tugged off of her, the coarse fibers scratching her skin where it was exposed.

  “Not quite home again, my girl, but His Lordship said this would be a good place to...fulfill the terms of our little contract,” Graegun rumbled with a snort of pleasure. His Lordship? Surely he did not mean Lord Eladria? What had happened after she’d lost consciousness?

  When she did not respond to his words, she felt one clammy, broad hand close around her ankle and yank her forcefully to the foot of the wagon. Another hand grasped her head and jerked her head back sharply, and she felt his hot, damp breath on her face as he brought his close. Her eyes were watering beneath her closed lids as his hand tightened in her hair. “Wake up, girl. You’ll not keep me waiting any longer. I know my rights, and I will have them.” He yanked again on her hair and she let her eyes flutter open, hoping she looked confused.

  “M-Master Graegun?” she mumbled, trying to sound sleepy. He gave her a leering grin, his snout trembling.

  “I want you to know that I have missed you so very much, Kesara,” he hissed. He brought his face closer still, and she felt his damp snout against her cheek as he smelled her. She forced herself to let her mind go blank to stop her stomach from heaving. “You are mine now. Mine until I am done with you, as it was meant to be. Don’t think that foolish lord will come after you. He does not understand what a prize you are, he let me take you away without any further mischief rather than having the trouble of you any longer. The trouble!” Graegun squealed with laughter. “As if there were any trouble too great to keep one of your potential! Such a fool!”

  Kesara’s eyes suddenly stung, Graegun’s face blurring as the panic closed in on her. It was hard to draw a full breath, her lungs didn’t even seem to hold onto the air she was able to take in. He’d let Graegun take her? He’d just...thrown her away?

  Of course he did. He is not the fool, you are. You let yourself start forming an attachment to a stranger, knowing full well you’d never see it through and he’d never return it. You brought this on yourself, the little voice in the back of her head taunted.

  He had seemed so...so...good, though. Oh gods, I was still seeking the bond and I didn’t even know it, she realized suddenly. Her eyes widened in horror at herself, the tears spilling over, but Graegun saw and mistook it as being directed at himself. He squealed again, delighted at the show of fear. What would have happened if he’d not let Graegun take me away? Would I have bonded with him without knowing it? Is that even possible? Would he have kept me if I had? Wait, why do I even care? This is all irrelevant now, and I don’t want to be kept besides! That was why I left, isn’t it?

  But Kesara had run out of time for her own silent, useless questions. Graegun dragged her from the back of the wagon by her hair. She saw as she scraped along on the ground behind him that they were densely surrounded by trees, the wagon parked at the edge of the small clearing that held only a small cabin, which he was dragging her towards. She couldn’t tell if they were still in Eladria on one of the mountains or not. She was not even certain how long she’d been unconscious in that wagon. Eladria was not a terribly big country, but it didn’t matter. For all she knew, Lord Eladria had been the one to direct him to this cabin, with his blessing. Again she felt sick.

  But to her surprise, he stopped inside off to the side of the front door. She could see nothing at first, her hair wound around his fist, her legs dragging and increasingly bloody from being scratched by the stony ground, a minor pain she had not even noticed happening. He hauled her to the front of him, and that’s when she saw the small wooden door set into the earth. A root cellar.

  She lashed out her arms and legs, pulling away from him as hard as she could and clawing at the hand in her hair, but he held her fast and struck her across the face with his free hand, sending her reeling. She tried to latch onto the pain within her, to drive it into his skull with all she was worth, but before she could collect herself enough to see it through, he had kicked open the door and unceremoniously dumped her inside. She tumbled down a small set of steps, landing fortuitously
on hands and knees instead of her face or head. She lurched upright at once, narrowly avoiding smacking her head against the roof of the cellar instead. Graegun was already shutting the door with a merry squeal.

  There were, of course, no windows, and there was no light. But Kesara didn’t need those things. She knew what the scratching sounds were that she heard a few moments later, knew what the tickle at her bare ankle must be. Knew why her captor would have put her here as his idea of “fulfilling the terms of their contract.” No wonder he had been so happy, Kesara thought hysterically. He could not have planned a better place for her and here one had fallen into his lap!

  She hurled herself blindly where those steps she fell down ought to have been, fumbled her way up those boards and fell against the rough wood of what was surely the door. She pushed it with all her strength, threw her body against it, pounded on it with her fists and screamed until her throat was raw, knowing any signs of distress from her that Graegun perceived would only seal her fate but unable to stop the screams from tearing their way out of her just the same. She choked on her own tears, raking her fingers uselessly against the wood, almost taking comfort in the sharp pricking of the splinters driving themselves into her skin because they blunted the pricking of the teeth on her lower legs by comparison.