The Spriggan Mirror

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The Spriggan Mirror Page 13

by Lawrence Watt-Evans


  “I’m sorry,” Gresh said. “If I could have prevented that thought, Iwould have.”

  “Of course. And if I could have avoided hearing it—well, actually, Icould have and should have; I was careless.” She sighed. “I was tryingto hurry the conversation, so.... Ah! There they are!”

  Gresh looked up to see Tobas leading a smiling Alorria down thestairs. Tobas was still in his robe and cap; Alorria wore a green-andwhite dress elaborately embroidered in green, black, and gold. WhereKaranissa’s white silk was unadorned and simple, clearly designed todraw attention to its wearer rather than itself, Alorria’s gown seemedintended as an exercise in ostentation, with fancywork at collar andcuffs, intricate lace ruffles across the bodice and around the hem,velvet puffs at the shoulders, and gold-edged slashes in either uppersleeve. Her hair had been brushed out and arranged so that the sideswere swept back into two wings, then secured with the familiar goldencoronet.

  To Gresh, she looked old-fashioned and faintly ridiculous—no onewould wear such a dress in present-day Ethshar—but he knew that thiswas the semi-formal attire of a princess in the Small Kingdoms.Whatever her garb, she was an attractive young woman, and judging byher expression very pleased with her appearance, so he tried to lookappropriately admiring.

  He wondered whether Karanissa was still listening to his thoughtsand detecting his faint scorn for Alorria. He risked a glance at herand thought he saw a faint nod.

  “Shall we go?” Alorria said, flouncing cheerfully off the bottomstair and snatching the baby from Karanissa’s arms.

  Gresh made no comment as he was led through a veritable maze ofcorridors and stairwells; he was trying to take in as much of hissurroundings as possible. He was also keeping an eye out for lurkingspriggans. There ought to be some around here. Why didn’t he see any?

  He accompanied the wizard’s family into a good-sized dining hallwhere a few dozen people were milling about; places were set at thelong table, but no one had been seated yet.

  His party was greeted with shouts of greeting and much shaking ofhands and slapping of backs, but Gresh could not follow any of thehappy conversation—it was all in an unfamiliar language he took to beDwomoritic. Alorria was smiling and laughing, clearly in her element.Gresh thought he understood now what Tobas saw in her beyond a prettyface.

  He heard his own name spoken a few times, and then suddenly he wasshaking hands with a young man with silky white hair, red eyes, andunnaturally pale skin.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Gresh,” he said, in perfect Ethsharitic. “Iam Peren the White—Lord Peren the Dragonslayer, they call me here, butthat’s just Small Kingdoms pomposity.”

  “Dragon slayer?” Gresh said, as he eyed the man’s strange hair.

  “I didn’t slay it, of course,” Peren said. “Tobas did. He blew itshead off with a single spell. But I was there, trying to help, andbefore that I was the one who got him out of his castle when he wastrapped there, so he’s always shared the credit with me, and I got ashare of the reward.” He pulled forward a young woman who wasunmistakably related to Alorria, and who wore a green dress that wasalso clearly akin to Alorria’s. “This is my wife, Her Highness PrincessTinira of Dwomor—she and her dowry were my share.”

  “I am honored to meet you,” the princess said with a curtsey. HerEthsharitic was heavily accented, but intelligible.

  “The honor is mine,” Gresh said with a bow, thinking as he did howodd it was that princesses, nominally people of high rank, were treatedas mere property, to be handed out as rewards for heroism. He knew thereasoning behind it—princesses were too good to marry mere ordinarymen, but at the same time the Small Kingdoms produced a surplus thathad to be dealt with somehow—but it still seemed slightly perverse.

  “I know you have met my sister Alorria,” Tinira said. “Have you metany of my other siblings?”

  Gresh turned up an empty palm. “I have only just arrived....”

  “I will fetch them! Wait here!” She turned and bustled away, leavingGresh and Peren together.

  “A lovely young woman,” Gresh remarked.

  “I’m a lucky man,” Peren agreed, watching his wife.

  “You are an unusual man,” Gresh said. “If you will pardon myimpertinence, might you be interested in selling some of your hair?”

  “What?” His gaze whipped back to Gresh.

  “Your hair. I believe it might be quite valuable in my business.”

  Peren frowned. “Aren’t you...well, some sort of adventurer? Howwould my hair be of any value?”

  “No, no,” Gresh said. “I’m not an adventurer; I’m a wizards’supplier. I sell the wizards of Ethshar of the Rocks their dragon’sblood and virgin’s tears—and if I’m not mistaken, pure white hair suchas yours is useful in certain obscure spells. I’ve never found a reliable source. Fortunately, demand has been so slight that I haven’tneeded a source, but it’s best to be prepared.”

  “You’re...a supplier? A merchant?”

  “Yes, exactly. A merchant, like my father before me, save that hetrades in more ordinary goods—exotic woods, perfumes, that sort ofthing.” As he said that, it occurred to Gresh to wonder whether hisfather had ever done any business here; he mostly traded withTintallion and the other northern lands, but there had been a fewexpeditions to the Small Kingdoms....

  “And you have a market for albino hair?” Peren asked.

  “I believe so, yes. Not a huge quantity of it, but I could certainlyuse a few locks.”

  Peren stared at him for a moment, then said, “I have two questions,and I’m not sure which to ask first.”

  “If one of them is ‘How much will you pay?,’ I’ll need to....”

  “No,” Peren interrupted. “That’s later. The first one is, if you’rejust a merchant, why has Tobas brought you halfway across the World?”

  “Oh—has he told you why he’s here?”

  Peren grimaced. “He has half a dozen reasons to be here, beginningwith showing his daughter off to her grandparents, but I assume youmean that he’s running some mysterious errand for the Wizards’ Guild.He said you were helping him with it, but not the nature of it.”

  “Then I shan’t say too much either, but I will say that I have areputation back home as a man who can always find what his customerswant, if the price is right. I have agreed to obtain a certain objectfor Tobas and the Guild, and I believe it to be somewhere in themountains to the northeast of this castle. It’s not adventuring; it’sjust a hunting expedition. Just business.”

  “Not a dragon?”

  “No.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “And your other question?”

  “Simple enough. I’ve dealt with wizards’ suppliers before—I was theone who sold off the blood and scales and teeth and all the rest of it when we killed the dragon seven years ago. I’ve sold them a few otherthings since then—as I’m sure you know, there are certain spells thatcall for ingredients that are best obtained by someone with an intimaterelationship with a royal family.”

  “Yes, I know. Your question?”

  “Why is it that in all these seven years, none of those suppliersever asked about my hair?”

  Gresh smiled and turned up a palm.

  “Amateurs,” he said. “You were dealing with amateurs. I, Lord Peren,am a professional.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time dinner was served Gresh had made the acquaintance of asignificant portion of the royal family of Dwomor—King Derneth II,Queen Alris, the king’s brother Prince Debrel, the king’s unmarriedsisters Princess Sadra and Princess Shasha, and half a dozen of theking’s nine children, the others having been married off to the royalfamilies of other kingdoms. Three grandchildren were also present,counting little Alris—known here, understandably, as Alris the Younger.One prince had a wife, recently brought from Yorbethon, and stillclearly not entirely adjusted to her new surroundings.

  Two of the absent daughters also reportedly had children, but thosechildren, like their mothers, were elsewher
e.

  If nothing else, it was clear that there was no danger that thecurrent dynasty would run out of heirs any time soon.

  Unfortunately, only about half the royal family and a handful ofretainers spoke any Ethsharitic, and not all of them were anythingclose to fluent, leaving Gresh unable to communicate with most of thecompany. He still tried to make the best impression he could,especially when he was presented to the king and queen.

  He had to explain repeatedly that he was not a wizard nor anadventurer, merely a businessman.

  All in all, he did not consider the evening a great social success;his unfamiliarity with the language put a damper on any attempt tostrike up an intimate acquaintance with one of the local women, sincehe was not stupid enough to attempt to seduce a princess or anyone witha husband in evidence, and his other conversations all seemed to followthe same route while going nowhere.

  The food was excellent, though—plentiful servings of well-seasonedroast beef, cabbage soup, stewed apples, and cherry compote. The wine was astonishingly good; when he remarked on it he was informed thatDwomor prided itself on its vineyards, and the only reason they weren’tbetter known was that they didn’t produce enough of a surplus forsignificant exports.

  He did manage to conduct some business, after a fashion; he addedPeren to his permanent list of suppliers and talked to several peopleabout spriggan sightings in the area. He was surprised how few peoplehad ever seen the little pests; a few even professed not to believe inthe creatures at all.

  That seemed very odd, given that the mirror was in the area. Ratherthan being attracted by Tobas’s magic, the spriggans seemed to bedeliberately avoiding Dwomor Keep. There was clearly something going onhere that he didn’t understand, and he wondered whether it was relatedto whatever secrets Tobas was keeping. If there really was a powerfulcountercharm of some sort in Tobas’s possession, such as Gresh hadpreviously theorized, perhaps the spriggans feared it.

  He had no hard evidence, though, and no one he spoke to seemed toknow anything about it, so at last he dropped the subject.

  When the meal was over the Lord Chamberlain, who turned out to bethe thin old man who had first knocked on the sitting room door, tookhim aside. “We have arranged accommodations for you, sir; if you wouldfollow me, I will show you to your rooms.”

  At that Gresh realized just how tired he was. He had started the dayin Ethshar of the Sands, spent more than half the day on the flyingcarpet, visited Ethshar of the Spices, arrived in Dwomor, and surviveda royal supper, all of it after a rather poor night’s sleep. He washappy to follow the chamberlain to a pleasant apartment on the secondfloor.

  All his luggage was still in the bottomless bag in Tobas’s sittingroom, though. He mentioned as much to the chamberlain.

  “I will see to it, sir.”

  Gresh settled into a chair, planning to just rest his feet for amoment; he was awakened by a knock at the door, where he found afootman holding his bag. He accepted it with a polite remark that theman obviously didn’t understand, but the two of them exchanged bows,and then the footman went about his business, leaving Gresh alone.

  Gresh considered his situation for perhaps two or three minutes.Then he made his way into the bedchamber, dropped the bag, pulled offhis boots, blew out the candle, and fell into bed.

  No crying infants disturbed him; no woman’s lingering scent troubledhis dreams. He slept well and awoke refreshed and was not surprised tosee, upon looking out a window at the angle of the sun, that he hadslept long. The morning was well advanced, the sun high in the east.

  He was hungry, but not ravenous, and decided that he would prefernot to eat breakfast in the same clothes he had worn to bed. He beganemptying his bag. He was unsure how long he would be staying in DwomorKeep, but he thought he might as well unpack thoroughly.

  He had pulled out perhaps half the contents when a knock sounded atthe apartment door. He answered it and found Tobas.

  “Good morning,” the wizard said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

  “Not at all; I was just unpacking a little,” Gresh said.

  “I see. I was wondering what your plans are for today. Will you beheading out to look for the mirror?”

  “Actually, I would very much like to get a look at where the mirrorfirst entered the World, and I was hoping you could fly me there thisafternoon. I assume it won’t take very long to reach the area?”

  Tobas hesitated. “The carpet can’t take you all the way,” he said.“I can get you to the general area and point out a few things—it’sperhaps an hour’s flight—but it isn’t a safe place to fly.”

  Gresh stared at him. “Why not?” he asked, baffled. He remembered nowthat Tobas had said the center of Ethshar of the Sands wasn’t a safe place to fly, either. That part of the city was where the usurperTabaea died. And this place in the wilderness was where Derithon’sflying castle had crashed. The all-purpose countercharm, if that’s whatit was, was presumably involved.

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  Gresh glared for a moment, then said, “Fine. Get me as close as youcan. Shall we meet at midday?”

  “I’ll come find you,” Tobas said.

  “Fine.”

  Tobas bowed, and turned away. Gresh watched him go, then closed thedoor of the apartment.

  Whatever the secret was Tobas was hiding—well, first off, he wasn’thiding it very well. Second—it appeared that whatever had been done inthe mountains and in the overlord’s palace had after-effects. That wasinteresting—and did it have anything to do with the spriggans’ mirror?

  He would probably find out that afternoon. He returned to unpackinghis bag.

  A few hours later he had sorted out his belongings, changed hisclothes, stuffed a few carefully selected items in a small shoulder-pack, stuffed several others back in the bottomless bag, and had gotten lost wandering the castle corridors looking for a bite to eat. Theservants he encountered did not include anyone who could make sense ofhis Ethsharitic or his gestures, but he eventually found himselfdirected to the Lord Chamberlain, who sent him back to his apartmentswith assurances that a tray would be sent up forthwith.

  The tray did arrive—bread, cheese, wine, figs, and dried apricots—and he was licking the last of the sticky residue of the figs from hisfingers when Tobas knocked on the door again.

  After admitting the wizard, Gresh finished his glass of wine and re-corked the bottle, then grabbed his little pack. He took a moment toreassure himself that the bottomless bag was tucked out of sight; thenhe followed Tobas upstairs.

  Ten minutes later the carpet rose from the platform outside Tobas’sapartments with the two men on it—and no women or children, nor anyluggage but Gresh’s pack.

  It seemed much roomier that way.

  About forty minutes later they came swooping down over a forestedvalley, and Tobas said, “There it is.” He pointed at an impressivecliff ahead.

  Gresh followed the pointing finger and saw the ruins at the foot ofthe cliff, barely visible among the trees. He blinked, and said, “Flylevel, please.”

  “We are flying level,” Tobas replied. “It’s the castle that’scrooked.” Then the carpet veered off, swooping up to the right.

  Gresh turned his head to keep the castle in sight.

  It was still some distance away, so he could not make out all thedetails, but he could see the tops of five towers and one gable endprotruding above the treetops. As Tobas had said, the castle wascrooked; the trees made that obvious, now that he was paying attention.The entire structure was tilted at a ridiculous angle; it was a wonderthat any of the towers still stood.

  The roofs were red tile, though streaked dark with dirt and moss;the walls were smooth stone, either off-white or a very pale yellow.Gresh was not sure which. It appeared to be a very simple structure,with no ornamentation or elaboration.

  The carpet came around in a full circle, and Gresh realized theywere descending into a clearing in the forest. “Are we landing?” heasked.

  “Yes.”
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  “Can’t we get closer than this?”

  “Not safely, no.”

  “Wait a minute, then,” Gresh said. He unslung the pack from hisshoulder and loosened the drawstring, then began rummaging in it.

  The carpet slowed and descended further, making another loop. Thetrees now hid the castle completely.

  Gresh pulled Chira’s talisman from the pack and gestured over it,setting it to detect anything between a foot and half a foot in height,and taller than it was long. That, he thought, should limit it tospriggans. Squirrels and other such creatures should be longer thanthey were tall, at least when moving. He spoke the command thatactivated the device.

  Nothing happened; the surface did not glow, and no markingsappeared.

  He reset it for all small creatures, as a test, and promptly locatedwhat appeared to be several mice, squirrels, chipmunks, and otheranimals. He switched the settings back, and it went dead again.

  “What is that?” Tobas asked, staring.

  Gresh looked up, startled. He had been so involved in working thetalisman that he had not consciously noticed that the carpet was now onthe ground, and Tobas was standing on it and looking down at him.

  “Sorcery,” he said.

  “You’re a sorcerer?”

  “I know a sorcerer.”

  Tobas did not seem entirely satisfied by that response, but beforehe could say anything more, Gresh said, “Can we get any closer to thecastle?”

  “On foot, certainly—we can walk right up to it. But it’s not safe tofly the carpet any closer.”

  Gresh considered that for a moment, staring into the forest towardthe castle, then shook his head. “Get us airborne again and move usaround to the...” He glanced up at the sun, then at the disk in hishand. “...the east,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “Because the mirror isn’t in this area.”

  Tobas started to ask another question, then stopped. He sat down andwaved a hand, and the carpet rose. “You know, it’s only an hour’s walkto the castle from here,” he said. “We could visit it, if you want.”

 

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