The Emperor's Mirror

by Emily Holloway

  “How long did you wait?” Sienna asked. “How long did you dally around and wring your hands? A magical trail, particularly one that’s well-covered by a talented mage, can disappear within twenty-four hours. That’s one day, Elder, now how long did you sit on your pride and your ego before you sent for the Warders?”

  “That decision is not within my domain!” Edrich yelled. “I couldn’t simply send for the Warders myself; I had to report to the head of my order first. This is a matter of utmost secrecy, which you do not seem to understand!”

  “What I don’t understand,” Sienna said, “is why you seem to want this chest back so badly but are unwilling to help us get it back.”

  “I am not authorized to – ”

  “Bosh,” Sienna said. “If you want it back, help us get it back. It’s as simple as that. If by tomorrow morning, you haven’t told us what’s in that chest, I’m moving on to other business. This is foolish; I have things to attend to, and a job like this doesn’t require three Warders anyway.”

  The Elder took a deep breath. “Three certainly isn’t doing any good,” he growled in agreement. He looked at Tallis and his voice softened. “And you, my son? Will you also leave? You understand the need for secrecy, do you not?”

  “Of course, Elder,” Tallis said earnestly. “Some things are sacred.”

  Sienna made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat, and left the room.

  Tallis sighed. “Please forgive her, Elder. It bothers her to work without pieces of information she believes are necessary.”

  “I don’t particularly care what either of you think of us,” Edrich said. “I need that chest back, and the item contained within. Tell me honestly, Warder Tallis – have you made any progress at all?”

  “No,” Tallis said simply. “There is no trace of any magic left by the thief. We have gone over every inch of the monastery and the grounds. We can’t trace the spells that were on the chest because we don’t know them, and there’s no saying that the thief hasn’t broken through them by now.”

  “No thief could break those spells,” Edrich said. “They were put on by the highest priests of the order.”

  “Be that as it may,” Tallis said, measuring his words carefully, “you asked for honesty, and that’s the answer.”

  “Then tell me, just as honestly, how knowing what was in that chest would do you any good.”

  “It might give us a lead as to who wanted to steal it. If it’s being sold, we could track the item through the black market. If we know what it may be used for, we would know what sort of person would want it.”

  “I’m telling you that the false prophet from Nuan Huo took it,” Edrich said. “You went to his temple. Did you not find anything?”

  “We searched from spire to basement. There was nothing there.”

  “Then he has hidden it somewhere else.”

  “We have no rights to search any of his private holdings,” Tallis said, trying to be patient. “That would be illegal. We were able to search the temple because he gave us permission. We have no evidence that he has done anything wrong.”

  The Elder took a deep breath. “I appreciate your effort, my son,” he said. “But the chest must be found.”

  “We’re doing our best, Elder.”

  “Please continue.”

  “Of course, Elder.” Tallis rose and left the room. Sienna was waiting outside. There were several monks nearby.

  “Are you finished with your toadying?” she spat out scornfully.

  “Did you expect to get anywhere by being rude?” he retorted.

  “No,” she said, “but I rather doubt you got anywhere by being polite. This is a farce. I don’t believe that there was any chest to begin with. He just wants us to shut down that foolish temple in Nuan Huo, which is none of our business. You can play into his hands if you want, but I’m not going to stand for it.”

  “Maybe you should just go,” Tallis said.

  “I told him I would stay until morning, and I will,” Sienna said. “After that, I may have to bid you farewell for the time being.”

  “That might be best.”

  “Yes,” Sienna said tartly, “it might.” She turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Tallis to exchange shocked looks with the monks. It took all of his considerable acting talent not to burst into laughter.

  * * *

  Chapter Six

  Calessa slept through the dawn service but attended the one held just after the breakfast hour. After waiting in the hallway during the beginning to avoid the spells, she had a seat near the edge of the crowd. Now that she was capable, she took care to listen closely to the sermon. Sienna and Tallis had both been unimpressed with it, and she found herself curious about what exactly Emory preached. She was somewhat disappointed to find that it was nothing more than a mishmash of sentimental drivel, powerful statements about how they would fix the world with no evidence attached, and mixed metaphors. By the end, she was yawning with every other sentence.

  “Lady Calessa,” Owain said, approaching her after the service had finally come to a close. He still looked friendly, but more ill-at-ease than he had the previous day. “I’m heading to Nuan Huo to get some supplies and some lunch. Would you care to join me?”

  “I’d be delighted,” Calessa said, intrigued by the offer and thrilled at the idea of putting some distance between herself and the temple for a little while. She suspected that she would make better progress with Owain than she had with the temple itself or its charismatic leader. Owain seemed to know quite a bit about what was happening there, and was much more likely to talk about it.

  Owain had readied the one-horse carriage that he was taking, and he gave her a hand up. She noticed that he was quite the gentleman, and studied him a little bit longer. He was actually quite ordinary looking, with light brown hair that was now pulled back in a loose tail, and mild brown eyes. It was difficult to judge his age; his smile and freckles gave him a youthful appearance. The skin of his hands was surprisingly soft.

  “I never did catch your family name,” Calessa said.

  He glanced over at her. “Owain of Sainsbury. But I gave up my lands and titles years ago. Am I that obvious?”

  “It’s the hands,” she said, gesturing. “And your manners.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said. “Of course. Emory, by the way, is Lord Emory of Hilliard, but he too gave up his lands and titles. He was the last of his line. I, on the other hand, had plenty of siblings to take up whatever slack I gave when I did the unthinkable.”

  She laughed. “Why did you give it all up?”

  “A multitude of reasons,” he said.

  “Ah, definitely raised in a court,” Calessa said with another laugh. “You have perfected the fine skill of answering questions politely but giving absolutely no information whatsoever.”

  “As have you,” he said, amused.

  “Do you often go back to Nuan Huo?” Calessa asked.

  “Certainly,” Owain said. “I live there. I have a townhouse. I stay at the temple many nights because it’s more convenient, but if I had to deal with Emory all the time I’d probably go mad.”

  “I can understand that,” Calessa said. “Tell me, does his sermon ever change?”

  “Oh, it’s always different,” Owain said. “He makes it up as he goes along.”

  “Must be terribly hard on him.”

  “On the contrary, he seems to have taken quite a liking to it.”

  Calessa changed the subject before she said something rude. “So if you gave up your lands and your titles, how do you afford a house in the city?” she asked.

  “Money comes from a variety of places,” Owain said. “I am a businessman, you know. I also had a substantial allowance that I had saved for several years before I left. Actually, if you don’t mind, you’ll get to see the house,” he added. “I need to pick some things up from there. I can assure you that you are entirely safe with me.” He smiled and continued, “I’m not a mage, although I am very g
ood at swordplay. I have a lovely collection; I’ll show it to you if you like.”

  “I would enjoy that,” Calessa said.

  They rode in silence for a little while, enjoying the cool autumn weather, Owain occasionally pointing out a landmark or a building of interest.

  “How did you meet Emory?” she finally asked.

  Owain’s face closed off slightly. “We’ve known each other ever since we were children,” he said. “His family’s holdings were close to mine.”

  “What possessed him to start a religion?”

  Owain shrugged. “Maybe he found a calling.”

  “Goodness, I hope not.”

  “I hope not, too,” Owain said with a laugh. “To tell you the truth, we’ve been doing this six months and I find it all rather intolerable. I hope most fervently every night that he’ll get bored with it and move on. Emory may never forgive me for telling him what I think of his God of All.”

  “What does he care what you think?” Calessa asked. “Surely he doesn’t believe what he’s spouting.”

  “Of course not,” Owain said. “But he was quite hurt when I told him that nobody else would, either. As usual, he proved me wrong.” He glared off into the countryside for a moment and then muttered, “Emory always did have to be right, the bastard.”

  “I can see that you two are very close,” Calessa said.

  “Hm,” Owain said, decidedly noncommittal. He changed the subject, asking about her family, and they chatted about inconsequential topics until they reached the city. Nuan Huo was a fairly small city, though much larger than Hazleton, with cobblestone roads and tightly packed buildings made from red brick. The streets were quite busy, given that it was midday; people hurried about their business on foot or in small carriages, and vendors hawked their wares from every corner and convenient bit of walkway. Owain navigated the traffic skillfully until they reached a small house near the center of the city. It was lean and narrow, only two stories tall, sandwiched between a restaurant and a gambling parlor.

  “Here we are,” he said, getting down from the driver’s seat. “It won’t be more than a few minutes. Would you like to come in?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  She followed him inside. She didn’t see any servants, but the place was clean and well kept. It was open and airy without being empty. Calessa noted that most of the furniture was high quality and probably quite expensive. She eyed a small but distinctive vase similar to the Imperial bowl at the monastery, and a bronze statue of a crane, and mused that Owain’s avowed lack of faith apparently did not dissuade him from collecting and displaying Imperial antiques. He left her looking at his sword collection while he collected some things and put them in the carriage. “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “It’s a beautiful collection,” Calessa said.

  He smiled with obvious pride. “I know,” he said. He reached out and took one of them down: a slender rapier done in a modern style. Although most of the swords were quite ornate, even ornamental, this one was quite plain and solid. “This one is my favorite. Ah, don’t reach for the wall. Emory’s warded it all for me; I’m the only one who can touch them. Prevents theft, since I’m away so often.”

  “Kind of him,” Calessa said, admiring the sword, which was razor sharp and light enough for someone slight like Owain to wield efficiently. When she was finished admiring it, Owain took the matching scabbard off the wall and secured it to his belt, sheathing the sword. “You’re taking it with you?” she asked.

  “It makes me feel more secure,” he said.

  “Are we heading towards a disreputable part of town?”

  “No,” he said. “I’m bringing it back to the temple with me.”

  “Surely you’re not afraid of little old me,” she said.

  “Shall we?” he asked.

  “Of course.” Calessa noted the evasion, but said nothing about it. There would be time for difficult questions later.

  * * *

  Given that they weren’t making much progress at the monastery, Tallis and Sienna rode back to Hazleton. They asked some discreet questions and got some interesting answers.

  The monastery had been there as long as anyone in Hazleton could remember. Some of the townspeople had even attended services at the shrine, but those had stopped some seven or eight years ago.

  “Wasn’t worth the ride anyway,” the shopkeeper grumbled. “Three hours in all sorts of weather to get there, then three hours back, to listen to that windbag of an Elder preach about gods that no one remembers anymore. The Elder before him was better. He could make you really understand it, you know. Maybe that’s why they stopped the services right after the new one showed up.”

  Tallis did not find the end of the services odd, given the unpopularity of the religion and the monastery’s isolated location, but the timing struck him as strange. There had been very little worship of the old gods for hundreds of years, yet many monasteries had faithfully held public services for a long time afterwards, and did to this day. Why had this particular monastery continued to hold services for so long, only to stop abruptly with no explanation?

  The services had stopped eight years previous. Brannon was twelve years old. Tallis didn’t know how old he had been when he had arrived at the monastery, or where he had lived before that, if he had not been born there. Why had Edrich been assigned as Elder there? Had it been before or after Brannon had arrived? What had happened to the previous Elder? Was his departure related to Brannon, or to the fact that they had stopped public services? It seemed that every time he got an answer, all he wound up with were more questions.

  They also asked about the new religion in Nuan Huo and were surprised to find that rumors of it had indeed spread as far as Hazleton. None of the people there had ever been to any of the services, and most of them seemed to share Calessa’s opinion that one god could not possibly supervise the entire world. However, many of the locals were curious about the growing religion, and expressed a desire to attend a sermon, should the famous Father Emory come through.

  “I wonder,” Sienna said, as they rode back towards the monastery, “if it’s the temple itself that gives Emory his power. After all, it’s a growing religion. You’d think he would travel – gather up followers. But he is very centrally based. He relies on the word of mouth from his sheep to bring more people to him, rather than going to them. It’s interesting.”

  “It is,” Tallis agreed. “But then why would it have affected Calessa and not us?”

  Sienna shrugged, making it clear that she didn’t have an explanation and didn’t expect him to have one either.

  It was quite late when they got back to the monastery. Aside from the man who let them in, who was yawning as he greeted them, all the monks were asleep. Sienna and Tallis wasted no time in saying good night and heading to their rooms.

  Tallis was quite surprised when he found Brannon dozing in his bed, snugly wrapped in the nest of blankets. Only the tiniest bit of his face was visible in the light from the lantern. Tallis thought this was rather adorable. As he sat down on the edge of the bed, Brannon stirred and yawned widely.

  “Hello to you, too,” Tallis said, laughing.

  Brannon opened one eye and snarled at him, and Tallis laughed again. After a moment, the boy sat up, rubbing his eyes with small fists. He indulged in another huge yawn. “I fell ‘sleep?”

  “You did,” Tallis said with a smile. “I’ve put warming spells on the blankets. That most likely didn’t help.”

  “’s chilly downstairs,” Brannon agreed, still snuggled into the covers.

  “I could put a spell on your blankets,” Tallis offered. “Or buy you some slippers.”

  “I’m all right,” Brannon said, making a face at him. “Elder puts warming spells on my room, but they wear off after a bit.”

  Tallis grumbled, “He should do it more often, then.”

  “It’s fine,” Brannon said.

  Tallis didn’t agree, but he decided against
pushing the issue, at least for now. “Would you wear slippers if I got them for you?” he asked. “Or let me put warming spells on the tunnel floors?”

  “If you put spells on the tunnel floors, Elder would notice, and if I wore slippers they’d get dirty.”

  “I wouldn’t care if they got dirty.”

  “Elder would notice.”

  Tallis was beginning to feel somewhat short-tempered. “Elder Edrich should take better care of you.”

  Brannon shrugged and changed the subject abruptly. “Anyway, I’m sorry I fell asleep in your bed. I was waiting for you.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry.” The irritation faded, and Tallis smiled at him. “Did you do anything fun today?”

  “No,” Brannon said. “I studied. And helped with the services.”

  “Do you have any books to read for fun?” Tallis asked.

  “Sometimes one of the monks will bring me a book back from Hazleton, but they’re always boring.”

  “I’ll go into town again and bring you back a fun book next time,” Tallis decided. “What would you like?” He smiled at Brannon’s expression of puzzlement and added, “There are all sorts of things. Books on magic. Books about animals or plants. My favorites, though, are books that are just stories.”

  “What types of stories?”

  “All types. My favorites are adventure stories.”

  “You can pick one out for me,” Brannon told him.

  “I’d be happy to,” Tallis said.

  They sat in silence for a few moments. Brannon pulled the blankets tighter around his shoulders, suddenly looking small and miserable. “When you find that chest, you’re probably gonna go away, huh.”

  “Yeah,” Tallis said softly.

  “Then I’ve changed my mind,” Brannon said petulantly. “I don’t want you to find it.”

  “I promise I’ll come back to visit,” Tallis said. Brannon looked skeptical, and Tallis just knew he was going to make some comment, so he added quickly, “The Elder can get over it.”

  “I don’t want you to find it anyway.”