Twilfa’s astonishment turned to disgust. “Oh, you two are just hopeless,” she said, as she stamped away.
Esmera and Gresh looked at one another, smiling.
Then they were in each other’s arms and using their mouths for something a little more intimate than smiling.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I had thought better of Tobas,” Esmera said, as she stretched in the morning sun. “Abandoning me here without even a farewell.” She was standing naked by the window of Gresh’s bedroom.
“He already has his Karanissa,” Gresh said, as he watched her admiringly from his bed. “I think he was afraid that if he allowed himself to have anything to do with you, he’d wind up with three wives, and Alorria would never forgive him.”
“I suppose — but it still isn’t very considerate of my feelings! I was married to him for six years, after all — or at least, that’s how I remember it.”
“But it’s not what he remembers.”
“Hmph.” She stepped away from the window and returned to the bedside.
“Is your very enjoyable presence here a sort of retaliation for how he mistreated you, then?” Gresh asked.
“Not exactly — but being cast aside so very definitely certainly made it easier to be here. There’s no lingering regret.” She turned and looked at him intently. “If Tobas has managed to avoid making any comparison between Alorria and myself for six years, I would hope I can do the same after a single night.”
“I didn’t say a word!” He grimaced. “I can see that being married to a witch could have its drawbacks.”
She stared at him silently for a moment, then said, “I won’t hold you to whatever might be implied by that mention of marriage.”
“And I won’t rush you,” Gresh said. “I haven’t offered; you haven’t accepted. Marrying a witch might not be the best idea for keeping peace in my family and business, in any case. All of my sisters except Tira might consider it inappropriate favoritism, and my customers, almost all wizards, might think it odd. I’ve been happily unmarried all my life, though a few women have clearly been willing, so why should I change? All that said, though, right now, looking at you and listening to your voice, I think it might be worth it.”
“That’s very sweet — and I have no intention of rushing into anything.” She turned to the window. “For one thing, I think I might like to travel before settling down. I’ve seen so little of the modern World! When I did travel, it was always with Tobas and Alorria — Alorria would not allow me to go much of anywhere without her.”
“You aren’t Karanissa anymore,” Gresh reminded her. “She was the one Alorria insisted on accompanying.”
“But it’s hard to stop talking of myself as if I were. I am her, in so many ways!”
“Of course. I expect you’ll grow apart in time, though, as you each have your own experiences.”
“I suppose we will.” She sighed. “I might want to go back to Dwomor briefly, to visit her.”
“Really? Alorria wouldn’t like that.”
“Really. Who cares what Alorria wants? She isn’t family anymore.”
“But her father is still king of Dwomor. Was living with her so very difficult?”
“Sometimes. Not always. Not even usually. She was generally pleasant when she wasn’t being jealous.” She sighed. “She was much better before the baby came.”
“Then perhaps you’re the lucky one, abandoned outcast that you are, being free of her. It almost makes me feel sorry for Karanissa.”
Esmera did not answer; she stood, still looking out the window.
“But you miss Tobas,” Gresh said.
“I’m sure I’ll get over it in time,” Esmera said. “But yes, these last few days have not been pleasant, having him shun me.”
“If you go back to visit Karanissa and see him again?”
She turned up an empty palm.
Gresh was no witch nor seer, but he was fairly sure he could guess what Esmera was planning. “You’re thinking of trading places with her for a while, aren’t you?”
“Possibly. No one would ever know, not even Tobas.” She turned. “Not even you.”
“You may be underestimating us.”
“I suppose I might be.” She did not say aloud that she doubted it, but Gresh could almost hear the words, all the same.
“And which of you would come back to me, here in Ethshar?”
“What makes you think either of us would?” She turned to glare at him.
“My high opinion of myself.”
She smiled. “Well, you might be right. One of us might come back. Karanissa would probably be curious about you, if nothing else.”
“Karanissa is married to someone else. That doesn’t bother you?”
“Tobas has two wives. Would it really be so terrible for Karanissa and I to share two husbands?”
“I thought you weren’t ready to marry me.”
“I’m not. I’m just considering possibilities.”
“Ah, I see. Would it bother you if Karanissa shared my bed for a time?”
“I’ve never been the jealous type — not with Derry, not with Tobas, not with you. Would it matter to you if it were Karanissa here, instead of me?”
Gresh hesitated.
“I hope so,” he said. “You aren’t the same person anymore. You’re the one I want here.”
She laughed. “You couldn’t tell the difference!”
“I don’t know. I think I might.”
She laughed again — and then her laughter changed, and she was crying. He leapt from the bed and took her in his arms.
As he stood there, holding her and trying to comfort her for the loss of her husband and her past life, he kissed the top of her head and wondered whether he would know if she traded places.
He hoped he would never have occasion to find out. He wanted this one to stay. He wanted her to stay for a long, long time.
Thanks to Enral’s Eternal Youth, it might prove to be a very long time.
Epilogue
Piffle slipped into the room as silently as it could — and as it was a wiry young spriggan, that was very silently indeed. It looked around.
There was the black box, just as the stories said, atop the giants’ table. Piffle looked up at the looming structure, then grabbed one of the table legs at head height and began pulling itself up.
It was perhaps halfway up the table-leg when a gigantic hand closed around it, pulling Piffle off its perch. It found itself swept up in the air and turned to face the immense hairy face of a He-Giant.
“Now, what do you think you’re doing?” the giant demanded, in its impossibly deep, rumbling voice.
“Nothing!” Piffle said. “Do nothing, really!”
A She-Giant appeared beside the He-Giant, looking at Piffle. Her incredibly long, lush hair spilled down around her. Piffle had never before seen a She-Giant’s hair so close up, and he was impressed.
“It just looks like an ordinary mirror,” she said. “You don’t need to see it. There’s nothing special about it — except when giants are climbing out of it. If you look at it, that might just happen.”
“I would think you’d consider eight of us to be quite enough,” the He-Giant said. “Especially after we smashed up those shops when we first appeared.”
“Yes, yes!” Piffle said, nodding wildly. “Enough giants!”
“Then don’t open the box!” the He-Giant bellowed.
“Yes yes yes! Put Piffle down now? Please?”
With a snort, the He-Giant set Piffle back on the floor. Piffle turned and scampered away. The He-Giant watched it go.
“Silly spriggan,” he said.
“They’re just curious,” the She-Giant told him.
“And attracted to magic.”
“That, too.”
The He-Giant glanced at the box. “Do you think more giants would really come out of it? Or did our mysterious message-writer have some other motive?”
She spread empty hands. “Who knows?”
“If more giants appeared — well, it might be nice to have more company.”
“Female company, you mean? I’m not enough for you?”
“Of course you are! I didn’t mean that. But where we’re all so much alike, the four of you sisters and my three brothers and me — aren’t there any different people wherever it is we came from? It might be nice to talk to someone who isn’t just like us.”
“Just talk? So you aren’t hoping that someday a beautiful woman might come climbing out of the magic mirror, so you’d have a choice, and not just the four of us with the same boring face?”
“You’re more than beautiful enough! Besides, now that I think about it, it’s just as likely to be another man, and I’m not interested in sharing you. Better we keep everything balanced, four and four.”
“Or maybe we’d get worse monsters next time,” the She-Giant mused. “Remember, we got those funny false spriggans before. We could get anything — it’s not as if we have any idea how the magic works, or where we actually came from.”
“Right.” He glanced at the black box, still securely sealed.
He wondered who had sent that message, sixnights ago, not much more than an hour after their own arrival — “SHUT THE MIRROR IN A SOLID BOX, AND NOTHING ELSE WILL COME OUT OF IT.” Why had it been written across a false spriggan’s belly? Why hadn’t the mysterious magician sent a piece of paper?
He shook his head.
They would probably never know — but they would do their best to see that the mirror stayed safely locked away. It was just too dangerous to let out.
They didn’t really need any more giants. The fact was, the He-Giant rather liked being one of only four men in a world of spriggans, an object of awe to all the millions of little green creatures. It was really quite enjoyable — so long as there were four women, as well!