Lawrence Watt-Evans - The Spriggan Mirror

Tobas looked up. “But it’s not producing any spriggans now?”

“No. And with luck, it never will again. I can explain it to you later, if you like.”

“I heard most of it-dragons really do have good ears-but I’ll want you to do that.” He turned. “Ali, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Can we go home now?”

“Yes,” Tobas said happily. “Yes, we can, as soon as I’m dressed.” He trotted toward the carpet holding the mirror triumphantly before him, while the spriggans cleared a path for him.

“Come on,” Gresh said, following in the naked wizard’s wake.

Karanissa hesitated. “Wait a minute,” she said. “What about my duplicate?”

Gresh paused, startled, then looked back.

The other Karanissa was still in the cave, watching events with evident incomprehension.

“Come on,” Gresh called to her, beckoning. “We’ll take you with us.”

The reflection hesitated, then followed.

A moment later, when the mirror was safely tucked away in the wizard’s leather valise and Tobas was pulling his rather damaged tunic over his head, Gresh and the two Karanissas arrived at the carpet; Alorria stared up at them in shocked horror.

“Two of her! Tobas, what’s going on? How can there be two of Kara?”

“We had a little magical accident,” Gresh explained. “Don’t worry about her; she’s quite harmless-and she’s not really another Karanissa. She just looks like her. See, she’s two inches shorter?”

“But…” Alorria was plainly not happy, but was having trouble finding the words to express her displeasure. She looked down at baby Alris, who had fallen asleep at the breast and was not helping her mother convey her annoyance.

“Ask her, Ali,” Karanissa said. “She’ll tell you she isn’t me.”

“I don’t know exactly who I am,” the reflection said. “I was only created a little over an hour ago.”

“Are you married to my husband?” Alorria demanded, pointing at Tobas as he struggled to get his left arm into a badly sewn sleeve. Her motion jiggled Alris, who burped without awakening.

“Not that I know of,” the image replied, puzzled. “Wasn’t he a dragon originally? You were married to a dragon?”

“Only for a little while,” Gresh said. “I turned Tobas into a dragon for a few hours, and now he’s back to his proper form.”

“Oh,” the reflection said, sounding unconvinced. “I’m fairly sure I never married a dragon. Or anyone else, for that matter. Isn’t there some sort of ceremony when one gets married?”

“It is customary,” Gresh agreed. “So if we’ve established that Tobas has not acquired a third wife, could we please get moving? It’s already almost dark, and it’s a long way to Dwomor Keep.”

“But if she isn’t really Karanissa, why is she coming with us?” Alorria asked.

“Because stranding her alone in the mountains at night seems rude,” Gresh said. “Now, may we please find seats?”

Alorria did not seem entirely satisfied, but she moved to one side and let the others crowd onto the rug.

“Four spriggans!” a spriggan reminded Gresh, as he pushed several of the little creatures clear of the carpet. “You take four!”

“Right,” he said. He pointed to four who happened to be nearby. “You, you, you, and you. The rest of you, clear away.”

The chosen four squealed with delight and clambered onto Gresh’s lap, pushing at one another to make room. One of them yipped, “Fun!”

“We’re taking them with us?” Alorria protested, staring at the foursome in horror and clutching her sleeping child to her breast.

“Yes,” Tobas and Karanissa said in unison, as they took their own seats. Karanissa took a moment to get her reflection settled onto the fabric; then Tobas turned to look at the others. He gave Alorria an embarrassed glance, then whispered to Gresh, “Could you use the Restorative on my clothes? I know it’s waste to use high-level magic for such a thing, and Ali did her best, but she hadn’t come prepared, and I’m afraid these breeches are chafing horribly.”

“If it will get us airborne,” Gresh said, fumbling to find the right jar of powder. Karanissa provided a handful of light, and a moment later a faint blue shimmer suddenly settled Tobas’s rumpled garments back into their proper shapes.

Gresh was still tucking the box back into his shoulder-pack when Tobas settled cross-legged on the fabric and gestured. The carpet rose silently and smoothly.

“Can you see well enough to get us safely back to the castle?” Gresh asked, as he looked around at the blackening sky and shadow-filled landscape. Stars were appearing overhead, and he wondered whether the greater moon would be visible that night, and when the lesser would next rise. He could not see either of them at the moment.

Some of the stars didn’t seem to be staying; apparently clouds were starting to gather, which would not help matters.

“I hope so,” Tobas said, turning the carpet to the southwest. “I’m hoping to navigate by the glow from the castle windows.”

“They don’t close the shutters?” Gresh asked, startled.

“They usually miss a few,” Karanissa reassured him. Tobas was too busy peering into the gloom to respond.

“We could stay up here on the mountain until morning,” Gresh suggested, as he noticed the carpet drifting closer to a sharp-looking tree than he liked. “It might be safer than flying in the dark.”

“No!” answered Tobas and both his wives. The carpet picked up speed.

“I wish I knew where we’re going,” the reflection said plaintively, as she looked around in obvious consternation. “It’s windy up here.”

“We’re going to Dwomor Keep, assuming we can find it in the dark,” Gresh told her. “It’s a big old castle, but reasonably comfortable.”

“Is it? Why are we going there?”

Gresh tried to explain, with both the human reflection and the four spriggans listening intently and asking questions, and that kept him and the real Karanissa busy for the better part of an hour. By then the sky was overcast, hiding the stars and moons, so that the carpet seemed to be soaring through nothingness. Alorria was dozing, and Alris was still sound asleep.

Gresh leaned forward and whispered to Tobas, “Do you know where we are?”

“No,” Tobas admitted. He explained that he no longer had any idea where they were. He was just looking for a light, any light, that he could aim for. Gresh pointed out a faint orange glow far off to their left, but Tobas shook his head.

“That’s not it,” he said.

“How do you know?” Gresh demanded.

“Because that’s the Tower of Flame,” Tobas said. “I’ve seen it before. It’s a good thirty leagues away. It would take hours to get there, and there’s nothing there we want.”

“Oh,” Gresh said, staring at the distant glimmer. He had heard of the legendary Tower of Flame all his life, but he had never seen it before.

From this distance it really didn’t look like much.

“There’s a light,” the reflection said, pointing ahead

“Where?” both men asked, turning to see.

“There.”

She was right; a faint flicker of orange was visible, and Tobas steered the carpet toward it. He did not know what the light was, but it appeared man-made and was not the Tower of Flame. At this point that was good enough.

They wound up as guests for the night at a small farmhouse where the man of the house had been out with a lantern, checking on a soon-to-calve cow.

When they first arrived and asked the startled and drowsy farmer where they were, they were assured that they were only a mile or two from Dwomor Keep. Upon hearing the castle was close Tobas wanted to continue on and try to find it, despite the now-total darkness, but just then the first drops of rain began to fall, and the others unanimously overruled him. They hastily hoisted their luggage, rolled up the carpet, and hurried into the cottage, Gresh almost banging his forehead on the lintel.