Lawrence Watt-Evans - The Spriggan Mirror

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.”