Стивен Браст: Tiassa

“Lady Teldra, Boss,” said the brains of the outfit.

Damn.

“That could be interesting. When did you think of it?”

“First time you hit the mirror.”

“Why didn’t you mention it then?”

“Because it could be interesting.”

Straight ahead to the ballroom, then up—a stairway up that actually went up. Around the edge of the balcony, and there was the mirror room. I pulled the door open.

Was I really going to do this?

“Ready, Loiosh?”

“Not really, Boss.”

Of course I was going to do this. I drew Lady Teldra. She had her most usual form, the thin, very long knife or very short sword. Without giving myself time to consider consequences, I picked out the nearest mirror, thought, Verra, I hope this doesn’t kill me, and gave it a good, hard, backhand cut right across the middle.

This time, the transition was not smooth. It wasn’t subtle, either. I felt like my teeth were about to rattle themselves out of my head, the room spun, there was a roaring in my ears, and then I was facedown, still holding Lady Teldra.

I opened my eyes. The floor was a hard, manufactured substance of pure white. I turned my head, and there was a wall next to me that seemed to be made of the same thing.

“Hello, my dear. Would you mind terribly putting that away?”

I knew that odd, weird, echoey voice.

I raised my head. “Goddess?”

“Whom were you expecting?” said Verra. “Please be so kind as to sheathe your weapon, my love.”

“Where are Loiosh and Rocza?”

“They didn’t come through whatever strange device brought you to me.”

I got up on my knees, stared at Lady Teldra, then sheathed her.

“Thank you,” said Verra. “So, little Vladimir, what brought you to me today?”

“Yeah,” I said. I stood up slowly. I seemed to be all right. “Yeah, that would be my first question. But don’t worry, there are others. A lot of others.”

“Goodness,” she said. “Well then, be comfortable.”

We were sitting—her in a big chair on a raised dais, me in something padded and comfortable. I’m not even talking about the sudden travel without teleport, just suddenly appearing somewhere else. I was getting bored with it.

“Let’s start,” said my patron goddess, “with how you got here. What happened?”

“I hit a magic mirror with a Great Weapon in a house that travels from the past to the future and contains halls that exist necromantically across worlds, including the Halls of Judgment—you know, like you do.”

“Ah,” said Verra. “I see.”

“Good. Then explain it?”

“You refer to a magic mirror. What is the enchantment?”

“Goddess, what in the world would make you think I’d know that?”

She nodded. “Of course.” She looked thoughtful. “You meant it, when you said past and future?”

“I know about the past, I’m pretty sure about the future.”

“Connected by hallways.”

“And doors, yeah. Mostly doors.”

“So someone did it.”

“Yeah, someone did it. Did what?”

“Something the Vallista have been attempting for thousands of years. Tens of thousands. But someone managed it. Now, of all times. Was it a Vallista?”

“Yeah. What do you mean, now of all times?”

“I’ve suspected, my beautiful young Vladimir, but I didn’t know.” She smiled. “We should celebrate.”

“Celebrate. Right. Yes. Let’s celebrate. What are we celebrating?”

A table popped into existence next to me, then a glass cup formed like a flower. She also had one, and a bottle.

“Come,” she said.

“All right.”

I got up and went over to her, climbed the dais, and let her pour the wine, then I went back and sat down again.

She raised her glass. “The end of an era.”

“What era?”

“A very, very long era.”

“And, it just ended today?”

“No, no. It ended more than two hundred years ago. I just wasn’t sure until today.”

“Well, good then. I guess all of my questions are answered.”

“Vlad, your sarcasm grows wearisome. If you continue, I won’t give you any more wine.”

“Fine, fine.”

I raised my cup and drank some. “Dear Goddess!” I said.

“Yes?”

“Uh, this is, this is really, really good.”

“Yes. I’ve been saving it.”

“I mean, really good.”

“Shut up and drink.”

“Yes, Goddess.”

I drank some more, trying to commit it to memory. It was sweet, very sweet, but without the annoying too-much that usually comes with sweet wine. It was like drinking light, like drinking purity, and all of it was doing a dance on my tongue that defied me to pull the pieces apart.

“That is, well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So, ah, just what are we celebrating?”

“Don’t think, Vlad. Concentrate on the wine.”

Yeah, that was a good plan. I did that. I would kill for wine like that. Okay, I guess that’s not saying much, what with all the things I’ve killed for. But you know what I mean.

The wine took up all of my thinking for three cups, at which time, alas, it was gone. But if I die tomorrow, I’ve had that. It was almost enough to make me forgive the goddess for, well, everything else she had ever done.

“All right,” I said, putting my cup down. “What exactly have we just celebrated?”

“The end of an era, as I said. And that, I’m afraid, is as much time as I can spare. This is big, my dear Vlad. There are things I must do, things I must prepare, gods in whose face I must laugh while crying in my best theatrical voice, ‘Told I thee not so?’”

“Uh, what?”

“I should bring you back to where you were. Mmm. That may be difficult. I think I can manage it by—”

“Goddess!”

She tilted her head and looked at me. “Yes, little one?”

“What is going on? How did I get here? What’s Devera doing there? Why—”

“Devera?” she said sharply. She had been half out of her chair, now she sat down and looked at me. “What has Devera to do with this?”

“She’s the one who got me into it.”

“Into what, exactly?”

“Brought me to the house, the place, the”—I coughed—“ platform where all of this happened.”

“Why?”

“She’s trapped there.”

“Trapped? Impossible.”

“Uh, if you say so.”

She settled back fully into her chair, the way you do if you plan to be there for a while. “Tell me everything,” she said.

I glared at her. “You first.”

She stood up. “Vladimir—”

I didn’t stand up, but I touched Lady Teldra’s hilt and said evenly, “Do not threaten me, Goddess.”

“You would draw that, on me, in my own home?”

“Only if I have to.”

“You’re a fool.”

“Is that why you picked me? I mean, the first time. When I was Dolivar. You needed some idiot you could wield like a tool, who’d be too stupid to know he was being played? Was that it? All the way back, the first time? I’m stupid, Goddess, but maybe not as stupid as you think I am.”

She slowly sat down again, and I let go of Lady Teldra’s hilt.

“First of all,” she said, “I didn’t pick you, Devera did. Second, it wasn’t because you’re a fool, it was because she thought you’d be willing to stand up to her grandmother when it was needed.”

“So, in other words, a fool.”

She chuckled, and I relaxed a little more. If Loiosh had been here, fool would have been the kindest thing he’d have called me.

“One thing,” I said.

“What?”

“When I was remembering that, that life with Dolivar when you and I first met—at least, I assume it’s the first time.” I paused, but she didn’t choose to comment. “I remember thinking that Devera must have been around nine years old.”