The Spriggan Mirror

Chapter Twenty-Four

Gresh decided to spend a day or two in Dwomor before heading back to Ethshar of the Rocks to collect his fee; after all, once he was paid he would have all the time in the World. Besides, he had spent more than enough hours crowded onto the flying carpet, and a brief stay would allow him and Tobas to tidy up loose ends, such as making certain no more spriggans were emerging.

That was easy enough to ascertain, since the mirror was wrapped in cloth—so long as the wrappings stayed in place, no spriggans had appeared, since any new arrival would have had to loosen the bindings to fully materialize. They had been too tired to fully appreciate that at the farmhouse, but now it seemed sufficient evidence.

The mirror was carefully placed in Tobas’s tower workshop, where the four spriggans were set to watch over it with strict orders not to touch it, or to meddle with anything else. Gresh had some doubts about ordering them not to meddle and considered using Javan’s Geas on them, but eventually decided that if Tobas wanted to risk it, that was his problem, and Gresh wasn’t going to waste a bunch of valuable magic safeguarding anything. Especially since he still didn’t know whether or not Javan’s Geas would work on spriggans.

As for the enchanted powders themselves, Gresh had tucked the pack in a corner when they first came in from the flying carpet’s landing platform. He saw no need to move them; none of the residents of Dwomor Keep were going to be foolish enough to steal from the wizard’s apartments.

Figuring out what to do about the false Karanissa was a little more difficult. By general consent of everyone involved except the image herself—and even she didn’t seriously object—she had been locked away in one of the four small bedrooms in the wizard’s tower, out of sight of the castle’s other inhabitants but with an adequate supply of food and water, until such time as the others had decided how she should be handled.

Karanissa thought she was harmless and should be released; Alorria thought she was a monster that should be destroyed; and the two men did not yet have fixed opinions.

Over breakfast and a subsequent glass of wine, Gresh explained to Tobas exactly what had happened in the cave and detailed his theories of just how the mirror’s magic worked, which included a description of the reflection’s initial appearance. That did not bring them to any quick agreement on what should be done with her.

Alorria did not stay around to listen to the debate; she had stated her position and had more urgent concerns, such as showing Alris off to the king and queen again. Karanissa stayed, but had little to say; for the most part she left the discussion to the two men.

“She’s just an image. We should use Javan’s Restorative to make her disappear,” Tobas said.

“Would it do that?” Karanissa asked.

“I think it would,” Tobas said. “The Restorative turns things into what they were before they were enchanted or broken or transformed, and she wasn’t anything before she was enchanted.”

“If that would work on her, it would work on spriggans,” Gresh said thoughtfully. “That might be a way of disposing of them. An expensive one, though. I wonder if it would work?”

“It ought to.”

“Then it could be used to make any magical creation vanish?”

Tobas hesitated. Gresh suspected he was reconsidering his position. Javan’s Restorative was a powerful countercharm, but surely it wasn’t that powerful!

“I think we should try it on her,” Tobas finally said.

“Why?” Gresh demanded. “She hasn’t done anything to harm anyone. How sure are you it will make her disappear, anyway?”

“I’m not sure at all,” Tobas admitted. “I’m not comfortable having her around, though—she’s an imitation of my wife, after all!”

Gresh glanced at Karanissa. “One wife, yes,” he said. “Which is probably why the other wants her destroyed. She feels outnumbered. And you probably find it unsettling, having a copy of one of your wives. If she weren’t a second Karanissa, but the image of a stranger, would you still want her destroyed?”

“Probably not,” Tobas admitted. He frowned thoughtfully. “All right, you’ve made your point.”

Gresh was not at all sure he had adequately conveyed his feelings on the subject, partly because he was not entirely certain himself what they were. He had originally been considering finding a way to erase the reflection himself, but the more he thought about it, the more repulsive the idea seemed. He was beginning to suspect it would amount to murder; the reflection certainly considered herself a person, and anyone seeing her would think she was human.

He had already decided that killing half a million spriggans would be wrong; how would killing this one pseudo-human be any different? These magical reflections might not be entirely real, might not be “complete” in some way, but they certainly seemed to have feelings and desires and intelligence—they could speak and act and showed every other sign of being rational beings. Calling it “erasing” or “unmaking” didn’t change the fact that it was killing, ending a life.

But turning a reflection loose in the World didn’t seem like the best idea, either. Where would she go? What would she do? If she was like the spriggans she didn’t really need to eat. She couldn’t starve to death, but she would get painfully hungry if she didn’t get regular meals.

Gresh could easily imagine her winding up as one of the miserable, homeless residents in Soldiers’ Field, or as a slave, or as one of the whores in Wargate; he didn’t like any of those ideas.

Of course, she was an attractive woman; she might be fortunate enough to find a trustworthy protector. And she might be a witch; no one had yet determined that definitively, one way or the other.

Using Lirrim’s Rectification to turn her human might be a good idea—assuming it would work—because at least then she would be no more tempting to abusers than any other homeless and beautiful orphan. Gresh had some unpleasantly lurid thoughts about what might happen if a slaver or a Wargate pimp found out that an indestructible woman was available and unguarded; it would be better to remove that possibility. The Rectification might fill in some of the holes in her memory—assuming they were holes. She had been created with a complete working knowledge of the Ethsharitic language and an understanding of such concepts as marriage and dragons, but had not known whether she was a witch, whether she was married, or any number of other things. If she had arrived completely ignorant, like a baby, needing to learn to walk and talk, that would have made sense. If she had started out believing herself to be Karanissa, with all Karanissa’s memories, Gresh would have understood. This halfway state, where she had most or all of Karanissa’s general knowledge but none of her personal and specific knowledge, was confusing. Lirrim’s Rectification might change that.

Or there might be other spells...

“We should ask her,” he said, abruptly arriving at a conclusion he now thought he should have reached long ago.

“Ask her if she wants us to erase her?”

“No—or rather, not just that. We should offer her all the options we can think of and ask which she wants.”

“Without promising she’ll get her first choice,” Tobas said. “If she says she wants to marry me, the answer’s no—I can barely handle two wives, and three is out of the question.” He grimaced. “For one thing, Alorria would kill me. Or her, or both of us.” He glanced at Karanissa. “I doubt Kara would be pleased, either.”

“You know, in her present condition, she can’t be killed while you’re protecting the mirror.”

“Ali would find a way.”

“Or I would,” Karanissa interjected.

“One of you just might,” Gresh agreed. “So the marriage option is unavailable—but really, we ought to let her choose what she wants.”

Tobas sighed. “I suppose. Or perhaps we could just deliver her to one of the Guildmasters, and let the Guild decide?”

“No,” Gresh said. “She wasn’t part of our agreement, and I’m not giving her to Kaligir.”

“I was also thinking of Telurinon.”

“Nor him.”

Tobas gave in. “All right, then—we’ll ask her what she wants.”

Gresh finished his wine, set the glass on the table, and rose to his feet. “Now?”

“I don’t see any reason to wait.” Tobas stood, as well, and the two men headed for the stairs. Karanissa gulped the last of her wine, then followed.

In the tower apartment they made their way up the stairs and unlocked the door to the little-used bedroom where the reflection had been confined. They found her seated on the edge of the bed, staring intently at a tapestry she had taken off the wall and now held stretched across her lap.

She looked up at their entry.

“What are you doing with that tapestry?” Tobas asked, puzzled.

“Seeing how it’s made,” the image replied. “Studying the weave.”

Gresh suspected that further inquiry about her activities would be a waste of time, and before Tobas could say anything more he said, “We’ve come to ask you a few things. Important things.”

“I’m not sure I know anything important,” the reflection replied.

“Actually, we came to ask what you want, not what you know,” Tobas told her.

“Oh?” She lowered the tapestry.

“We’ve been discussing what we should do with you,” Gresh explained. “We finally decided that it wasn’t really up to us—you should decide.”

“But you know so much more about the World than I do!”

“But it’s your life we’re discussing.”

“Well, that’s true. So what is it you want me to decide?”

Tobas and Gresh exchanged glances; then Gresh said, “I know you consider yourself a person, but you aren’t exactly a human being; you’re a magical reflection of one. You were created fully grown, instead of being born and growing up; you have no name; and the witch here says that there are parts missing—it may be that you don’t have a soul, she isn’t quite sure. If the spriggans are right, you’re bound to the mirror that made you in several ways and immune to physical harm as long as the spell is active. You aren’t entirely real; you’re a magically solidified image that thinks it’s real.”

“I am? Is that what I am?” She looked fascinated, but not particularly troubled by this revelation.

“We’re fairly certain,” Tobas said. “But it’s possible our theories are wrong.”

“As a magical creation of this sort,” Gresh said, pressing on, “you may have some difficulties in dealing with human society. In any case, you definitely aren’t going to be permitted to stay here in Dwomor Keep; your resemblance to the woman you’re reflected from, Karanissa of the Mountains, would make your presence inconvenient and upsetting to several people here.”

“Where else is there?” the image asked.

“Hundreds of places, from uninhabited wilderness to huge cities,” Gresh told her. “You can go wherever you please, so long as it isn’t here.”

“Then why did you bring me here?”

“Because we were coming here, and we hadn’t yet decided what to do with you. It seemed cruel to leave you alone in the mountains.”

“But now you want to send me away?”

“Eventually, yes. But there are a few other matters to resolve first.”

“Go on.”

“We have some magic powders—they’re downstairs, where I left them. We think one of them would undo the spell that created you; if you don’t care what happens to you, it would be simplest for us if we just uncreated you. If we’re right about what the spell would do, you’d just cease to exist; there’d be no pain or discomfort of any kind. You’d just be gone. We aren’t sure it would work, but we think so. Would you... would that be acceptable to you?”

She stared at him. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I’m not suicidal.” She frowned. “I thought you were having trouble with an excess of spriggans. Aren’t they the same sort of reflection I am? If you have a spell like that, why haven’t you uncreated them?”

“Two reasons,” Gresh said. “First, it’s ordinarily a very expensive spell. I only have a supply of the powder form because the Wizards’ Guild wanted me to be well equipped for dealing with the magic mirror. Second, up until we actually found the mirror, and saw you come out of it, we had no idea how it worked and didn’t think the spell would do anything to spriggans. We didn’t know they weren’t entirely real.”

“Oh. I suppose that makes sense. But I still don’t want anything to do with it.”

Gresh sighed, though he wasn’t surprised. “All right, then. We have another spell that transforms things into what they were meant to be. We think—again, we aren’t absolutely certain—that it would turn you into a real human being. After that you would be free to go wherever you chose, other than this castle, and do what you please.”

“Interesting. Do you have any other spells? Perhaps the one that turned him from a dragon to a man?” She gestured at Tobas.

“That’s the one that would unmake you,” Gresh said. “He was a man first.”

“Then what about the spell that turned him into a dragon?”

“I don’t think that would do anything to you; it might be interesting to try it and see, though.”

“Would it turn me into a dragon?”

“No. I think I can say that much.”

“Oh. Are there any others, then?”

Gresh and Tobas looked at one another, then back at the reflection.

“Not really, no,” Tobas replied. “That’s the lot.”

“So my choices are to remain as I am, to cease to exist, or to turn human?”

“Yes. We think.”

“If I turned human and didn’t like it, could you change me back?”

Tobas and Gresh exchanged glances again. “The Spell of Reversal?” Gresh asked.

“It ought to work,” Tobas agreed.

Gresh turned back to the reflection. “You’d have about half an hour to decide; after that, I don’t think we could turn you back.”

“Javan’s Restorative might work, too,” Tobas suggested.

Gresh frowned. “Maybe,” he admitted.

“Well,” the reflection said, “if I have a choice of two possible modes of existence, it seems to me that I ought to try them both before deciding which I want.”

Gresh nodded. “Very sensible,” he said. “Then you want us to turn you human? Or rather, try the spell that we think will turn you human?”

“You aren’t sure?”

“I’m afraid not. But we both really do think it will work.”

“Then I’ll try it.”

Gresh smiled reassuringly. “I’ll go fetch the powder.” He turned and left the room, bound for the stairs.

Just outside the bedroom door he almost tripped over a spriggan, but caught himself against the wall of the passage. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Heard voices,” the spriggan said. “Came to see whether voices were bad mirror thieves trying to sneak up on us.”

“There aren’t any mirror thieves around here,” Gresh said, annoyed. “That’s why we brought it here, so it would be safe.”

“Yes, yes. Sorry sorry.” The spriggan scampered back toward the stairs. Gresh watched it bound up a few steps, then pause to catch its breath. Gresh decided not to waste any more time on it. He marched down the passage and down the stairs to the sitting room, then crossed to the corner where he had left his pack.

He considered hauling the whole thing upstairs, but he was afraid that if he did, Tobas and Karanissa might get caught up in the excitement and start throwing spells around, wasting the powders. He had gotten a little carried away himself out on the mountain. It was the first time he’d ever had so much magic right there in his own hands, and he’d been perhaps a bit careless with his powders, but he was calmed down now and didn’t see any need to put needless temptation in anyone’s path.

He thought he understood now why wizards didn’t ordinarily keep many spells around in powder form. It was too easy to use them. The temptation to just fling a powder and say a word was much stronger than Gresh had imagined. Working a spell from scratch every time meant that a wizard had to think about what he was doing, instead of acting on impulse. Gresh knew he had been lucky that none of his enchantments had ended in disaster, and he did not want to push his luck too far. He intended to take the remaining powders and potions back to Ethshar with him and, if the Guild did not reclaim them, sell them for a healthy price. He did not care to let anyone else experiment with them, trying them all out to see what they might do to the reflected Karanissa, or to spriggans.

So he did not bring the whole box. Instead he opened the pack, pulled out the box, and found the jar of white powder, still mostly full—he had used only one pinch from this one so far, less than any of the others. He pulled it out, pushed the pack back in the corner with his foot, and then headed back up to the bedroom. He heard the spriggans squeaking somewhere above him as he climbed the stairs, but ignored them as he marched back up the passage.

He did wonder idly how much damage they were doing to Tobas’s laboratory, but did not let it concern him.

Tobas and the two Karanissas were waiting in the bedroom; the two women were seated side-by-side on the edge of the bed, the wizard standing before them. For a moment Gresh was uncertain which woman was which, but then he got close enough to see the height difference.

“Are you ready?” he asked, opening the jar. “You’ll have about half an hour to decide which sort of existence you prefer. If you wait any longer than that the Spell of Reversal won’t change you back, and we don’t know whether Javan’s Restorative will work.”

“It ought to,” Tobas said.

“I’m ready,” the image said. The original Karanissa moved down the bed, farther away from her duplicate, to make room.

Gresh flung a generous pinch of white powder at the smaller Karanissa and proclaimed, “Esku!!”

There was a blinding silver flash; Gresh blinked, trying to clear his vision. When he did he saw two identical Karanissas sitting on the bed—truly identical; the size difference had vanished.

So had all differences between their facial expressions and even their position. Both were sitting bolt upright, staring at their own hands. Both spoke in perfect unison, saying, “By all the gods, Gresh—what have you done?”