There were always enchanted boats at Gandylow as it was the nearest port to the Island of Algathon — the native land of the enchanters and their crones. Khestrii was situated on the western shore of the island and, although there were some humans living there, on the whole people preferred not to live so close to enchanters. There were five enchanted boats in the harbour that day — great, silver monstrosities with black runes painted across their metallic exteriors. Even the sails were thin sheets of metal, being there solely for decoration since the wind certainly didn’t dictate the places these ships went.
Lex stood looking at the five great ships, wondering how best to go about stealing one. For Schmidt was quite right in saying that buying passage would be hopeless. There was no way an enchanter was simply going to allow them to come aboard his precious ship. It was strictly forbidden for any non-magical person to board the boats. Lex had always wanted to steal something from an enchanter. Some little trinket, just for the dangerous thrill of brushing so close to something so powerful. But this wasn’t some little trinket. It was a huge, hulking monster of a ship and stealing it would not be so easy.
Lex eyed the staff of a nearby enchanter warily. It was as tall as the wizard himself, made out of twisted metal and set with a blue star-crystal at the top. The staffs were the centre of all the enchanters’ powers and it was said that they could turn a man inside out if they wanted to, just by pointing at him with their horrible sticks. Lex grinned as Schmidt caught sight of the enchanter and hurriedly turned away, pretending to inspect a shut-up stall to avoid having to look directly at the magician.
But Lex wasn’t afraid and remained where he was. As divine luck would have it, his dilemma was solved for him, for whilst he stood musing over the problem of the boats, he happened to overhear the conversation that took place between the nearby enchanter and his crone.
‘It will be your responsibility to guard the ship until I return,’ the enchanter said.
Lex’s ears pricked up at that. He eyed the old crone with dubious glee. She hardly looked capable of guarding anything. She was hunched over the usual pair of sticks, her gnarled old hands shaking on them slightly, and she was bent almost double under the weight of the slim grey cat that was draped languidly about her shoulders.
‘I will be gone for seven days and nights. You will stay on the ship. Do not leave it for anything. Not for anything, you understand?’ he snapped, leaning a little closer to the old woman. ‘Do not fail me again, Bessa. If anyone inquires as to the ship’s prolonged presence here, you may tell them that I will return shortly and that the boat is not to be touched by anybody until then, not even the maritime authorities. I won’t have any non-magical people on board my ship.’
The crone nodded and grovelled to the wizard, assuring him all the while of her eternal and undying devotion. Lex chuckled with glee. It really was too easy. The old woman would go over like a house of cards.
‘What are you sniggering at?’ Schmidt said sharply, without looking away from the stall.
Lex ignored him. Of course, the crones were often left behind to look after the ships. It wasn’t as if anyone was actually going to try and steal them. Such an action would have been reckless beyond words. Lex watched the old crone hobble painfully up the gangplank back on board the huge, gleaming silver ship. It was not touching the water, even here in the harbour. It hovered unnaturally, just above the sea, secured by ropes to the docks, drifting ever so slightly in the force of the wind from the ocean.
‘Voila!’ Lex exclaimed as soon as the enchanter had left for the town. ‘And here we have our transportation, Mr Schmidt.’
‘Where?’ the lawyer asked, gazing round stupidly.
Lex pointed at the ship. ‘There.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Didn’t you hear that enchanter say he was going away for a week? I won’t wait here for a week; I want to be off today so we can get this whole sorry mess over and done with. You’ll have to go and bargain with one of the other enchanters.’
‘Bargain? My dear Monty, who ever said anything about bargaining?’
Schmidt frowned at him. ‘But you said you were going to get us passage on board one of the enchanters’-’
‘They’ll never take us!’
‘Then how are you going to-?’
‘I’m going to pinch it!’ Lex declared gleefully.
He allowed himself a moment to take in the expression of utter horror on his employer’s face and then ducked smoothly under his arm as the old lawyer made a grab for him. In another moment, he had fled lightly up the gangplank and was staring down over the side of the ship, grinning at Mr Schmidt.
‘Get back down here,’ the lawyer hissed.
Or something of that sort. He was too far away for Lex to be able to hear him but the body language was quite plain.
‘Make me,’ Lex laughed and then disappeared into the ship in search of the defenceless old crone.
The thrill at finally being on an enchanter’s ship was immense. It was dangerous. Of course it was dangerous. The enchanter would be furious, incensed when he found out. But it was irresistible at times — that urge to plummet recklessly into something that all sane men would shrink from. And after a year of stealing nothing more thrilling than trinkets from museums, an enchanter’s ship would be a fine prize indeed. What better way to begin the Game against the Gods?
Lex walked over to a door on the deck, trying to find a way into the ship. Schmidt would follow him. After all, he had no choice. If they didn’t eat together then he would only find himself stranded in Lex’s body anyway.
Lex opened the door and stopped dead. He was standing at the foot of an immensely long corridor. But he was not alone. There were hundreds and hundreds of other Lex’s on either side of him, above him and below him, each looking as disoriented as he was. The hallway was entirely mirrored. The walls, the floor and the ceiling, reflected back at each other into infinity. Lex shuddered.
He was only allowed a moment of discomfort however, since the sounds of labouring coming from outside told him that his employer was making his way up the long gangplank and it was important that they got under way before the old lawyer tried to bodily drag him from the ship. Lex started to walk carefully down the corridor, both arms stretched out so that his fingers brushed against each wall in an attempt to keep himself oriented.
It reminded him of the fayre his grandfather, Alistair Trent, had taken him to when he’d been little. It had all been fun and games until he had scared himself by getting lost in the Maze of Mirrors. When he had at last caught sight of his grandfather, he had made a grateful dash towards him, not realising it was only his reflection he was chasing, and had crashed straight into a mirror, smacking his head and splitting his lip. He had started bawling then and his grandfather had had to buy him a big stick of blue candyfloss to shut him up. You don’t run in mirror mazes, although many children, it seemed, were destined to find that out the hard way.
The mirrored walls were so flawless that it was only the feel of a hinge beneath his fingers that alerted Lex to the fact that there was a door. There was no doorknob or handle but when he pushed the mirrored glass, it swung open easily and silently into a room that, he noted with relief, was not lined with mirrors.
It was a tiny little white box-of-a-room because the walls, floors and ceiling were made entirely out of white marble. It was completely bare but for one basket in the corner, in which the old crone was hunched, her sticks leaning against the wall, the grey cat about her shoulders, staring into space.
‘It’s Bessa, isn’t it?’ Lex asked pleasantly.
At the sound of his voice, the crone flinched as if she had been struck and was on her feet at a speed that was remarkable for a woman so obviously crippled.
‘Get out! ’ she shrieked, grabbing her sticks and hobbling out of the basket. ‘Out!’