He hoped that Javan’s Geas worked on spriggans; he was not at all sure of it. He had tried it anyway, but there was no obvious way to test it.
The mirror was no longer his responsibility, though. He had delivered it as agreed. Now all he had to do was get home and collect his fee—and perhaps help Esmera find a home.
She was looking hesitantly up the stair at him. Gresh closed the book and smiled at her. “Good morning,” he said. “I see you rose early, as well.”
“I didn’t want to keep anyone waiting.”
“That doesn’t appear to be a problem,” he replied. “No one answered my knock.”
“So I see. May I join you?”
“Of course.” He moved over on the step, making room for her, and pushed his bag further back, out of the way.
She climbed the stair and seated herself beside him, tucking her skirt carefully. “Thank you,” she said.
He nodded, and said, “It occurs to me that this must seem very unfair to you.”
She looked up at him, startled. “Oh?”
“Well, yes. After all, you remember being Tobas’s wife, you must surely think of yourself as the woman he married six years ago, and now he says you aren’t. You remember owning an entire wardrobe and all you have now is this one dress, which still has dirt from the cave on it and snagged threads where thorns or spriggans caught at it, while the other pretty clothes all belong to the other Karanissa. That can hardly seem just.”
“But I’m not Karanissa,” Esmera replied. “I know that. I’m an exact copy—and I wasn’t even that until you cast Lirrim’s Rectification on me. You and the enchanted mirror created me; Karanissa didn’t, so why should she have to give up any of her belongings, or share her husband with me?”
“But don’t you think of yourself as her, still?”
“Sometimes. I know I’m not, though, however much I might feel otherwise. What I try to do is think of it as if I was her, but now I’m someone else. I’m trying to think of it as an adventure, starting a new life on my own.”
“That’s probably a wise attitude.” Gresh considered her for a moment, and then said, “I suppose I did more or less create you, didn’t I?”
“Not deliberately.”
Gresh grimaced. “And how many children are created without that being their parents’ intent? That doesn’t reduce the parents’ responsibility, and I don’t see why it should reduce mine.”
“But you didn’t know the mirror could produce something like me.”
“Well, that’s true, and perhaps that does lessen my burden somewhat, but all the same, now that you’ve pointed your parentage out to me, I feel I must assume some of the responsibility for your well-being. I have already spoken to Tobas, and we’ve agreed that I should provide you with funds until you can make a place for yourself, in Ethshar or elsewhere. This money should be considered part of my expenses in obtaining the spriggan mirror—after all, I would not have figured out how it worked if you hadn’t climbed out of it. But beyond that, I think I should also offer you the hospitality of my home, such as it is, and perhaps one of my sisters can see to your education and find you employment. One of them, Tira of Eastgate, is a witch—she ought to be able to provide some guidance. Ekava the Seamstress may be able to help with clothes.”
“Thank you,” Esmera said, lowering her eyes.
“You’re quite welcome—and I would like to make something clear; I’m doing this not as a father, but as a friend who feels responsible for your situation. I am not your father; we share no blood.” He was fairly certain that as a witch, able to sense his emotions, Esmera would know exactly why he was making this point. She had Karanissa’s memories; she would recall his reaction to that white dress she had worn a few days ago. And Esmera, unlike Karanissa, was not married.
He also thought she would be tactful enough not to say anything about it directly.
She raised her gaze and smiled up at him. “I’m glad of that,” she said. Then she turned and looked at the door. “Karanissa is awake,” she said. “I can sense it. She slept better than I did—her bed was familiar, and her hair didn’t get in the way.”
“Ah,” Gresh said. “Shall I knock?”
“She’s on her way,” Esmera replied.
Indeed, a moment later the door opened without further action on Gresh’s part.
Half an hour later the flying carpet rose from the platform, bearing Tobas, Gresh, and Esmera, as well as Gresh’s bottomless bag and a small chest holding a few of Tobas’s things. It sailed upward, circled the castle towers once, and then headed westward, gathering speed as it went.
They once again ate lunch at the Dragon’s Tail, in Ethshar of the Spices, but since they had so little baggage they rolled up the carpet and took it inside with them, rather than leaving it hovering.
They reached Ethshar of the Sands while the sun was still a hand’s breadth above the western horizon and spent the night in Tobas’s little house near Grandgate. All three slept in the upstairs rear; no mention was made of the tapestry hidden behind the draperies just the other side of the stairs.
While they ate a simple breakfast the next morning, Tobas reported that he had dreamed a reply—his own message about having the mirror secure in Dwomor had been received, and they were to proceed onward to Ethshar of the Rocks without talking to Telurinon. Kaligir would be meeting them at Gresh’s shop to discuss the matter.
“Why did they send a new dream?” Gresh asked. “Didn’t you talk it out in the one you sent?”
“No,” Tobas said. “I used the Lesser Spell of Invaded Dreams, which only sends. It doesn’t receive.”
Gresh blinked. “Why?”
“Because that’s how the spell works.”
“No, I know how it works. I mean why didn’t you use the Greater Spell of Invaded Dreams?”
“To save time and because I didn’t have all the ingredients for the Greater,” Tobas said defensively.
Gresh started to argue further, intending to point out that the only additional ingredients the more powerful spell required were blood and silver. Tobas had certainly had blood available if he bothered to prick his finger, and he ought to have access to a silver bit or two given he was the court wizard and the castle presumably had a treasury or at least a petty cash fund somewhere, but then he caught himself.
It didn’t really matter why; it was over and done. Tobas was right that the Greater Spell took about half an hour longer to prepare than the Lesser, and if he chose to devote that saved half-hour to getting more sleep or saying goodbye to his wives, that was his business. If he didn’t want to cut anyone for a few drops of blood, nor borrow a coin, that was his prerogative, as well.
If the real reason was that he hadn’t felt comfortable using a fourth-order spell when a second-order one would serve, as Gresh suspected, there was nothing to be gained by forcing him to admit it.
They finished breakfast in silence and were soon on their way west and north, toward Ethshar of the Rocks.
It was very nearly noon when the carpet soared between the towers of Eastgate and descended toward Gresh’s shop. The trip had been far more comfortable than the eastward journey, owing to the lack of crowding, greater familiarity with the hazards of flight, and the absence of a baby, but there had still been relatively little conversation, and Gresh was very glad to stretch his legs after sitting for so long.