Roger Taylor - Arash-Felloren

‘You asked me to come to you for the key, sir,’ he said quickly, with an extravagant gesture which enabled him to take another discreet pace backwards in preparation for flight.

Recognition came into Barran’s eyes and he opened the door fully. The hidden hand was adjusting something behind his back. When it emerged, it was empty.

‘How did you know I was here?’ he asked.

Pinnatte chose the truth. ‘I didn’t, sir,’ he replied. ‘I was just finding my way around and I thought I’d see if you were here first. You did say it was an important place.’

Barran nodded then stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

‘You look tired, sir,’ Pinnatte risked.

‘That’s because I am,’ Barran replied tersely. ‘It’s been a busy time.’ He looked at Pinnatte narrowly. ‘You’re looking little better yourself, young man. Are you all right?’

‘Bit restless last night, sir. New master, new place.’ Pinnatte smiled broadly. ‘And I’m hungry now. I was going to find you, then try to get some food somewhere.’

Barran continued his inspection of his new charge for a moment, then, seemingly satisfied, opened the door again and motioned Pinnatte into the room. A table and two chairs had been added since he was there last, and the wooden panel was already pushed back to reveal the mirrors. The Eyes of the Jyolan, Pinnatte remembered Barran calling these strange objects. He thought of them as mirrors, accepting the word used by Barran, but they were not like any mirrors he had ever seen. All he could see of his reflection was the faintest hint, and that only when he searched for it. What he could see was what he had seen the night before: different parts of the Jyolan – with figures moving about most of them. The sight did not startle him as much as it had previously, but it still unsettled him. How could such a thing be? He was tempted to ask what the mirrors were used for, but they were so strange that he could think of no clear question. Besides, he sensed that Barran was in no mood for casual chatter.

‘You’ll need some rags and a bucket of water.’ Barran’s voice yanked Pinnatte back to the present. ‘And I think Ellyn’s got something she uses for cleaning glass.’

Pinnatte bent forward and listened intently as Barran explained how the mirrors were to be held and supported while they were being cleaned.

‘You must be very careful until we know more about how these things work.’

There was an ominous emphasis on the word ‘very’ that sharpened Pinnatte’s attention even further. Notwithstanding that however, once or twice he found his mind wandering. Having one of the most ruthless and powerful men in the city talking to him about such matters as dusting and cleaning, like a fussy old maid, was oddly disorientating. When he had finished, Barran put his hand on Pinnatte’s shoulder. Pinnatte remembered the weight of it from the previous evening and concentrated again.

‘You will take great care with this job, won’t you, Pinnatte?’

It was not a question, it was an order.

Later, Pinnatte sat in the room alone, the door locked behind him. Barran had taken him to the rooms he was using as temporary living quarters while work at the Jyolan was under way and Ellyn had given him a long look when he demanded, ‘That stuff for cleaning glass’, obliging him to repeat the question. She said nothing, but raised an ironic eyebrow when she finally gave him an earthenware bottle unearthed from one of several wooden crates. Pinnatte wilfully avoided looking directly at either of them during this exchange. Then Ellyn wrinkled her nose slightly and with a nod of her head towards Pinnatte gave Barran a significant look. He sniffed conspicuously and nodded in agreement.

‘Show him where he can get cleaned up, get him some decent clothes and feed him,’ he said brusquely.

It was thus an unusual Pinnatte who eventually sat staring at the Eyes of the Jyolan. He was cleaner, smarter, and easier on the nose than he had been for a long time. Rearranged dirt being one of his disguises, his erstwhile Den-Mates would have found him almost unrecognizable with a clean face. Occasionally he preened himself, and moved his head this way and that in an attempt to see his faint reflection in one of the mirrors, though generally with little success. In addition to being clean, he was also replete, Ellyn having fed him quite handsomely.

On his return to the Mirror Room, he had pursued his allotted task as bidden. At first he was extremely careful, holding the thick mirrors very firmly and applying his rag very hesitantly. However, after a few heart-stopping fumblings which left mirrors vibrating, their images streaked and blurred, he realized that they were far more robust than Barran had imagined. For in each case, the mirror settled back into its original position, its image unimpaired.

Cleaning them proved to be a harder task than he had anticipated however. The dust on them had been there a long time and was stiff and reluctant to move, as were his fingers after he had been working for a while. Nevertheless, he pressed on, engrossed, for as each mirror was cleaned, its surface had a quality of perfection about it, displaying an image with a clarity the like of which he had never seen in an ordinary mirror. So vivid were the sights he could see that he felt as though he should be able to reach out and actually touch them. And even though he began to grow used to the strangeness of what he was seeing, he found it difficult at times not to just sit and stare.

Eventually he pushed his chair back, stretched himself noisily and then flexed his fingers energetically in an attempt to ease the stiffness in them. It did not work. He was going to have to pace himself better. So far he had cleaned only one row and his arms and shoulders were aching, as well as his hands. It was going to take him a long time to finish them all. And some of the higher mirrors would be extremely difficult to reach even standing on the table.

Still, it did not matter. If Barran was unhappy about the progress he was making, he would be able to demonstrate both the intransigence of the grime coating the mirrors and the care he was taking. He decided not to mention, for the moment, how robust the mirrors actually were – that might prove to be a useful ‘discovery’ on some future occasion. For the time being, while he was doing this job, he would have legitimate opportunity to wander about the Jyolan – to fetch clean water, to find more rags, perhaps locate a ladder – all of which would enable him to find his way about the place. Something dark turned over luxuriously inside him at the prospect and the mirrors seemed to shimmer. He shook his head. He’d been here too long, he decided. And been working too intensely, just like when he’d been an apprentice thief, learning to pick pockets. Now was as good a time as any to start his exploration of the Jyolan.

Rooting under his jacket he retrieved the key, soundly secured in a hidden pocket next to his skin. Experienced in such matters, Pinnatte knew how to carry things safe from the sly touch of such as himself. As he stood up, a movement in one of the mirrors caught his eye. It was one that normally showed no activity. Pinnatte peered at it closely, resisting the temptation to rub the dust away with his hand. He found himself looking along a dimly-lit and seemingly empty passage – one of many such. But there was something there, he was sure. Something hiding, low and skulking. A shadow in the shadows.

A shape flitted past a lamp.

Though the movement was too quick for him to see any details, he knew immediately that it was the fighting dog which had escaped the arena at the Loose Pit. Instantly he was back with Rinter and Atlon and the guard in the passage where they had encountered the same dog. As then, powerful emotions surged through him, possessing him, dismissing all reason. This thing was prey! It had escaped once and, in so doing, had left a pain that could be healed only by its death. It must be taken now! Almost as if it had felt his presence, the dog froze, then suddenly dashed around a corner. Pinnatte felt something in him leap after it. He stepped back quickly, scanning the mirrors for other signs of the fleeing animal. It flickered past one and was gone again. Spinning round, he dashed for the door. His thigh struck the corner of the table with considerable force.