“That’s tiring enough for me,” Karanissa said.
“But you haven’t said a word yet about how you helped Lady Sarai defeat Empress Tabaea,” Gresh protested.
“That has nothing to do with the mirror or the spriggans,” Tobas said. “And it is getting late.” He rose.
Gresh glanced at Alorria, hoping that she would insist her husband brag about his part in defeating the mad magician-thief who had somehow temporarily overthrown the overlord of Ethshar of the Sands, but she was dozing off, and the baby in her arms was sound asleep. He sighed.
He would be traveling with these people for days, perhaps months. There would be time to worm the truth out of them.
“I suppose it is,” he conceded.
Karanissa rose and leaned over to touch Alorria’s shoulder. “Ali,” she said. “Time for bed.”
“Uh?” Alorria started; Alris stirred but did not wake. Then Alorria nodded. “Oh, yes. Bed. Yes.” She rose, as well.
“I’ll clean up,” Gresh said, but as he looked around he realized that while he and Tobas had been talking, Karanissa had already cleared away most of the dishes and other evidence of their supper.
“We’ll see you in the morning,” Karanissa said.
“Come on upstairs, Ali,” Tobas said. “We’ll get you and the baby tucked in.” The family headed for the stairs.
Gresh watched them go, while brushing the last crumbs from the table and taking the empty wineglasses to the scullery tub.
Something in the mountains of the Small Kingdoms had downed a flying castle, centuries ago. Something in that same area had apparently interfered with two Transporting Tapestries. Tobas had apparently thought the spriggans would not be a problem there, even though he had considered them a hazard in his otherworldly castle. Something associated with Tobas had defeated an incredibly powerful rogue magician, allegedly gutting the interior of the overlord’s palace in the process and leaving nothing of Tabaea but her left foot, when the Guild’s ordinary efforts had failed. And if Karanissa was to be believed, the Guild’s failed attempts had endangered the entire city. And a Transporting Tapestry had been permanently ruined somewhere in the process.
On top of all that, Tobas was reputed to be an expert on countercharms-though Karanissa denied that he deserved that reputation.
Gresh frowned.
He could think of one explanation for everything, though it might not be the right one. It fit with a few other rumors that he had heard about Tabaea’s demise, as well. All of this could be explained if Tobas had stumbled upon an all-powerful countercharm of some sort, presumably one created long ago, perhaps as a weapon in the Great War. Such a charm might have brought down the flying castle, rendered the tapestries and the mirror temporarily inert, eventually destroyed one tapestry permanently, and erased both Tabaea’s magic and whatever magic the Guild had used unsuccessfully against her.
That would also account for the secrecy; the Wizards’ Guild would not want it widely known that so powerful a defense against their magic existed. It would account for why they were sending Tobas to deal with the mirror, rather than a more experienced wizard. He probably had the charm, if it existed, in his possession and was not willing, or perhaps not able, to loan it to anyone else.
Gresh had not noticed any jewels or amulets or other obvious magical devices on Tobas anywhere; he carried a knife and pouch on his belt, like most people, but wore no rings or brooches or pendants, so far as Gresh could see.
The charm might not be anything so obvious, of course; it could be a rune burned into Tobas’s flesh, or a pebble in his pocket, or…well, almost anything. If it existed at all.
Presumably, Tobas intended to use it on the mirror and make sure the effect was permanent this time. That would be a very satisfactory conclusion to the whole business.
A general-purpose countercharm like that would be very useful and very valuable-but Gresh told himself not to get greedy or do anything stupid; it wasn’t his, it almost certainly wasn’t for sale, and he was getting paid quite enough for the mirror as it was. Trying to obtain or duplicate this theoretical charm would almost certainly annoy the Wizards’ Guild, and that could ruin his business and get him killed.
No, he would leave it alone. He would find the mirror, collect his reward, and go on to live a very, very long and prosperous life without it.
It really was late now, and he was tired. Perhaps in the morning he would think of another explanation for the holes in Tobas’s story and realize that such a countercharm probably didn’t exist at all. He picked up one candle, blew out the other two, and headed for the stair.
He did make one small detour, though, peering through the other door off the little front parlor. As he had expected, it led to a wizard’s workshop, but a very small and poorly stocked one; the crude workbench was dusty and bare, the four shelves above it half-empty. If the parlor, kitchen, and attic had not already made it obvious, this workshop demonstrated that the little house really wasn’t much of a home to Tobas and his family-at least, not yet.
He closed the door carefully and climbed the steps.
Alorria and Alris were sound asleep on the nearest bed; Tobas and Karanissa were nowhere to be seen, but the tapestry shimmered eerily in the candlelight. Cautiously, Gresh set down the candle and closed the drapes over it. He did not want to wake up in the middle of the night and see that ghastly image, or worse, stumble into it while looking for a chamber pot or something.
He then made his way to the farthest bed, so as to have as much space as possible between Alorria and himself. There he pulled off his boots, peeled off his socks, blew out the candle, and then fell back onto the down-filled mattress.
His last waking thought was the realization that he could tell by the faint scent lingering on the pillow that this was Karanissa’s bed.
The Spriggan Mirror
A Legend of Ethshar
Chapter Eleven
Gresh awoke in the darkness to the sudden unpleasant and loud discovery that Alris was not yet sleeping through the night. He pushed himself up on one elbow and squinted into the gloom, determined that Alorria was moving, and then, as the baby quieted, he lay back down and tried to get back to sleep.
He dozed off quickly enough that time, but the second time the baby’s crying woke him, the first faint light of dawn was seeping in the windows, and he had to debate briefly with himself whether to rise or not. He decided not, but getting back to sleep was more difficult, and it scarcely seemed as if he had managed it when he heard Tobas calling his name.
“Mrph,” he said. Then he rolled over and realized that the windows were bright with full daylight. He raised his head and called, “I’ll be right there!”
Five minutes later he ambled downstairs to find the parlor empty-the carpet and baggage had all been carried out to the street and reassembled, with two new bags added. Tobas was securing the last few knots as Gresh peered out the door. Both women were standing nearby, looking over the arrangements.
“You missed breakfast,” Tobas told him, looking up from his labors. “But we saved you bread and cheese to eat on the way.”
“Try not to get crumbs everywhere,” Alorria added, as Karanissa smiled apologetically.
“We thought it would be best to let you sleep,” the witch explained. “We didn’t know how late you had stayed up.”
“Not very late,” Gresh said, with a meaningful glance at the baby Alorria was holding to her shoulder. “But I didn’t sleep very well, so I appreciate it.”
Alris let out a belch, and white goo dribbled onto a rag Alorria had draped on her shoulder. The baby goggled at Gresh. Gresh smiled back.
Babies were cute, he thought, but he was very glad he didn’t usually live with one. They were noisy and smelly and needed constant attention, mostly in the form of cleaning up things he preferred not to deal with.