He looked around the room again, but saw nothing of particular interest. No spriggans were in sight.
That was curious, really. If the mirror was generating spriggans somewhere within a few leagues, and the spriggans just wandered randomly, then their population density here should be several times what it was anywhere in the Hegemony, and it plainly wasn’t.
That meant that their wanderings weren’t random. It wasn’t simply an attraction to wizardry that motivated them, because if it were, then Tobas’s workshop would have been overrun with them when he was working as Dwomor’s court wizard.
Gresh wondered just what was really going on. Were spriggans more organized and more intelligent than they appeared? Was there some pattern to their behavior over the past few years? He felt a slight chill at the thought. What if they were not just an infestation, but an actual deliberate invasion? Was it really just a botched casting of Lugwiler’s Haunting Phantasm that had brought them into the World?
Then Karanissa came back down the stairs in a white silk gown that made Gresh forget about spriggans and mirrors and spells, not to mention the inconvenient fact that she was married to someone else. He rose quickly and bowed to her.
“You know, after so long in your company on the carpet, I can hear your thoughts,” she said, pausing at the foot of the stair. “Especially when they’re as clear as they are just now.”
For an instant Gresh hesitated. He did not want to offend a wizard’s wife.
On the other hand, Karanissa could have easily ignored his reaction. She had chosen not to, and that gave Gresh some latitude.
“Then you know there’s nothing I can do to control them,” he replied with a smile.
“I know you aren’t even trying. Really, do you feel no shame at all at lusting so blatantly for another man’s wife?”
“None,” Gresh replied. “For three reasons.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. First, you call it blatant, but you’re a witch-would an ordinary woman know what I am thinking? Look at my face, rather than the thoughts behind it, and I think you’ll see my expression is well within the bounds of mere polite admiration.”
“Ah. You’re right-and you do have a dozen years of practice, don’t you? And the advice of your sisters, as well.”
“Indeed. Second, lust is a natural and healthy response to a sight such as the one before me now. While it is the custom to disguise it in polite company, I know that it is the disguise that is unnatural, not the desire.”
“Most men are not as certain of that as you are.”
He nodded an acknowledgment. “You would know that better than I.”
“And your third reason?”
This was the one that had convinced him to be honest. “With all due respect, lady, you would not have put that dress on if you did not want to provoke lust. The angled neckline, the fit at the hips-that dress is designed to inflame men’s hearts, and as a witch you surely know it and chose it for that purpose.”
“Ah, one of your sisters is a seamstress, isn’t she? I hadn’t known that.”
“Ekava, the next-to-youngest,” Gresh agreed. “Still a journeyman, but she knows her profession well enough.”
Karanissa glanced upward and stepped away from the stairs as Tobas appeared, hurrying down the spiral. He wore a loose black robe and a pointed velvet cap, looking every inch a wizard save for the fact that he held a sleeping baby in his arms. “Alorria will be down in a moment,” he said, shifting Alris from one elbow to the other and straightening the lush crimson blanket that now wrapped her.
Until now Gresh had always seen Alris bundled in white or gray or yellow, if one didn’t count the usual stains and discolorations. It appeared that tonight even she was dressed up for their dinner with the king. Gresh looked down at his own brown wool tunic and black leather breeches and decided they would do well enough-he was a traveler, after all, and could not be blamed if he looked the part. If they stayed in Dwomor for any length of time, and royal suppers were the norm, he might eventually take the time to dress up, but not tonight.
The three of them stood silently for an awkward moment,; then Tobas said, “I’ll see what’s keeping Alorria.” He handed Alris to Karanissa, then hurried back up the stairs.
Karanissa watched him go, then looked down at the baby and smiled. She glanced at Gresh.
“She’ll be down soon enough, once she realizes I’m holding her child,” Karanissa said. “You look fine just as you are; don’t worry about it.”
“You look…well, ‘fine’ isn’t strong enough,” Gresh replied.
“Thank you.”
Gresh started to form a question, but Karanissa answered before he started to speak.
“Ali is a princess here,” she said. “Alris is the king’s grandchild. I prefer not to fade completely into the background. I hope this dress will work to compete with the two of them.”
“I can’t imagine you fading into the background anywhere,” Gresh replied.
She smiled at him, much as she had at the baby a moment before. “Many men consider me too tall and thin and dark; they prefer their women a little fairer and more rounded, like Ali.”
Gresh’s immediate thought would never, ever have been spoken aloud, but Karanissa was a witch; it didn’t need to be audible.
“Tobas has no fixed preference,” she said softly. “He tries very hard not to favor one of us over the other. Anything beyond that is none of your business; I say this much only so that I will not be troubled by your curious thoughts any further.”
“I’m sorry,” Gresh said. “If I could have prevented that thought, I would have.”
“Of course. And if I could have avoided hearing it-well, actually, I could have and should have; I was careless.” She sighed. “I was trying to hurry the conversation, so… Ah! There they are!”
Gresh looked up to see Tobas leading a smiling Alorria down the stairs. Tobas was still in his robe and cap; Alorria wore a green-and-white dress elaborately embroidered in green, black, and gold. Where Karanissa’s white silk was unadorned and simple, clearly designed to draw attention to its wearer rather than itself, Alorria’s gown seemed intended as an exercise in ostentation, with fancywork at collar and cuffs, intricate lace ruffles across the bodice and around the hem, velvet puffs at the shoulders, and gold-edged slashes in either upper sleeve. Her hair had been brushed out and arranged so that the sides were swept back into two wings, then secured with the familiar golden coronet.
To Gresh, she looked old-fashioned and faintly ridiculous-no one would wear such a dress in present-day Ethshar-but he knew that this was the semi-formal attire of a princess in the Small Kingdoms. Whatever her garb, she was an attractive young woman, and judging by her expression very pleased with her appearance, so he tried to look appropriately admiring.
He wondered whether Karanissa was still listening to his thoughts and detecting his faint scorn for Alorria. He risked a glance at her and thought he saw a faint nod.
“Shall we go?” Alorria said, flouncing cheerfully off the bottom stair and snatching the baby from Karanissa’s arms.
Gresh made no comment as he was led through a veritable maze of corridors and stairwells; he was trying to take in as much of his surroundings as possible. He was also keeping an eye out for lurking spriggans. There ought to be some around here. Why didn’t he see any?
He accompanied the wizard’s family into a good-sized dining hall where a few dozen people were milling about; places were set at the long table, but no one had been seated yet.
His party was greeted with shouts of greeting and much shaking of hands and slapping of backs, but Gresh could not follow any of the happy conversation-it was all in an unfamiliar language he took to be Dwomoritic. Alorria was smiling and laughing, clearly in her element. Gresh thought he understood now what Tobas saw in her beyond a pretty face.