Margaret Weis - Heroes And Fools

A calculating look formed in Mendel’s dark eyes. “If you do, you might even get your body back. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, dandy? To walk as a living, breathing bit of flesh again? I won’t really have much need of you any more once you find me the crest. I could let you go this time. . ”

Despite knowing that he could never bring Mendel the artifact in question, the thief could not help but feel hopeful. “Freedom? You’ll grant me my freedom?”

“First find me the Arcyan Crest.”

Mendel turned, dismissing both the mirror and the thief within. Vandor watched him go, knowing that the black-robed figure was already busy plotting uses for the legendary artifact. Mendel shut the door to the chamber, all but forgetting Vandor.

How could he give his master what no longer existed?

He had one desperate idea. Perhaps Vandor could find something, another precious object, that might fool the mage, that might fool him long enough for Mendel to bestow his reward, releasing Grizt’s body and allowing him to regain life. Once human again, Vandor could conceivably escape before Mendel learned the truth. It was far-fetched. It was dangerous. It was the only hope he had.

The day passed unmercifully slowly, interrupted by only two brief appearances from his master. The night came at last. Vandor waited for Mendel, for only Mendel had the power to compel the mirror to send him on his tasks.

Finally the mage stalked in, left hand clutching the cursed medallion. “Well? Why aren’t you off yet? You will go to the home of the red robe Prester, you will go only there, and you will search all night if need be! You will find the Arcyan Crest! Understood?”

“Yes, Mendel, I understand.” Released by the medallion, Vandor wasted not a moment more, darting into the mirror realm. He had to find some object he could use to replace the one he had let be destroyed, something that might fool Mendel. Unfortunately, it would have to come from Thorin Prester’s domain; Mendel had commanded he go only there, and thanks to the magic of the medallion, Vandor had to obey that command.

Within seconds, the thief of mirrors entered the former red robe’s house. He darted from one reflective surface to the next, searching Prester’s home from top to bottom. . room after room. . leaving the child’s chamber to the last. Vandor feared to go there, feared that the young girl with magical gifts might catch him again.

What a fool he was! What a fool! Why had he ever lied to Mendel? Doing so would only make matters worse for Vandor in the end. The black robe would punish him not only for losing the legendary artifact but for trying to lie about it as well.

One possible place where there might be other valuables was Prester’s own room. Vandor had searched it before, but now he knew he must search it again.

Prester still slept deeply as Vandor searched his bedchamber one more time, appearing and reappearing in one reflective surface after another. Reaching out of the large mirror overlooking the man’s desk, Vandor hunted through the small wooden chest he had noticed on previous visits. Unfortunately, the chest contained nothing the thief needed. Time was running out. There were few places left to search. Vandor grew frantic.

He suddenly sensed eyes watching him. They belonged not to Prester, for that one still slept solidly, but rather to a smaller, unfortunately familiar presence.

“I knew you’d come back.”

The sun could only be a few minutes away from rising. Vandor had no time for little girls with frightening abilities. He immediately dove back into the mirror.

That is to say, he attempted to do so. The thief of shadows struggled, head and arms trapped on the outside of the glass. He eyed the young wizard fearfully, not knowing any longer whether he feared her or Mendel’s wrath more. “I don’t have your brooch any more!” Vandor desperately explained. “Let me go, please!”

The child glanced at her father, who still slept soundly despite all the commotion. Her gaze returned to Vandor, and she said, “You’ll bum again.” When her prisoner said nothing, she frowned. “If you stay outside the mirror, will you burn again?”

“Yes! By blessed Shinare, yes!”

“I’m sorry.”

A gust suddenly hurled Vandor completely into Prester’s looking glass. He tried immediately to flee but could not move.

The girl came over to the mirror. She stared into it, giggling. “I can see myself standing next to you!”

Vandor stood in the mirror, watching her with growing apprehension. The thief of mirrors repeated his earlier words. “I don’t have your brooch any more. It’s. . it’s gone.”

“Silly ghost. .” the little girl giggled. “I’ve got it here!” She pointed to her hair, at the same time speaking so loudly that Vandor expected Prester to awake, but the father remained still. Whatever magic this girl wielded she wielded well. Mendel would have been very, very jealous.

The full impact of her words struck him. “You- Vandor blinked. “You have it?”

At last he took notice of the elaborate brooch fastened to her hair. The ethereal thief stared in disbelief. True enough, a brooch identical to the one he had stolen clung there, griffons and kingfisher with jeweled eyes. Yet, it could not be the very same brooch, for that one had vanished before his eyes, a victim of the whims of the mirror realm-or so Grizt had thought.

“Is that. . is that the same one?”

“It’s the one Mama gave me.”

“But I-but I took it.”

An enigmatic expression crossed the child’s features. “It always comes back to me. I forgot that before, but it always does.”

“Indeed?” Grizt did not pay much attention to the girl’s response, already breathing a sigh of relief. There was still a chance for him. Already he was calculating his chances of stealing the Arcyan Crest again. What did it matter if, after he put it into Mendel’s hands, it disappeared again? Just so long as he would not be blamed for failing the damned black robe. .

“Are you really a ghost?”

“A ghost?” Her words made Vandor shudder, for he often felt like a ghost. Only the knowledge that his body remained preserved by Mendel’s spells kept him sane. To be a ghost forever. . Grizt could imagine no worse fate. “No, my spirit is trapped in a mirror,” he answered, “but I’m very much alive. The man who makes me do this- steal things-possesses my body. If I don’t do what he says, he’ll destroy it.”

She seemed to believe him immediately. His words were truthful, and what was more rare for him, sincere. Desperation had given Vandor Grizt sincerity.

“I’m sorry for you,” the little girl finally said.

“If I don’t return soon, I’ll be punished.” He glanced up. Already the darkness seemed to be waning. Predawn. He had scant minutes remaining. “I have to return by first light. It’s nearly that now.”

“I didn’t tell Papa about you,” she mentioned. “I thought I dreamed you.” She leaned forward. “My name’s Gabriella. What’s your name?”

He was beginning to see light! Why had the black robe’s mirror not forced him back yet?

“Vandor Grizt. Little mistress, you said you wouldn’t like to see me burn. Much worse will happen if I don’t leave now!” He held out his hands. “See? I’ve got nothing of yours this time!”

As dawn began filtering into the chamber, Prester stirred. The girl looked at her father. “He should sleep longer.”

Grizt tried to avoid thinking about what her statement indicated: power but not the experience to wield it sensibly. She was able to keep her father sleeping but only for a time.

“Please, my fine young lady! Let me go! It’ll be our little secret that I came here at all! Wouldn’t that be a grand thing? You like secrets, don’t you?”