The Mirror of Fate (26 page)

My hand moved to my leather pouch. Reaching inside, I touched a seed, small and round, that seemed to pulse like a living heart. A seed that might, one day, sprout into something marvelous to behold.

Turning back to Hallia, I mused, “You could be right about the marsh ghouls. People tell lots of stories about them, and always will. But the marsh ghouls still have time to write their own story.” I drew a deep breath. “With their own choices, their own ending.”

She pointed toward the archway. “Someday will you tell me all the things you saw in there?”

“Not all of them, no. But I will tell you one, the most important thing.” I took her hand. “It was a mirror. A mirror that needs no light at all.”

Hearing the phrase, her whole face brightened. “And what did you see in that mirror?”

“Oh, many things, and among them, a wizard. Yes, the wizard I’ll one day become. Not because it’s my destiny, mind you, but because it’s
me
.” I tapped my chest. “The same me, made from the same flesh and bones, that you see right here.”

Sensing some motion on the ground, I turned to see my shadow. It seemed to be watching me, shaking its head with determination. I started to scowl, then caught myself. Slowly, I gave a nod. “Made from the same shadow, as well.”

The dark form ceased shaking—for the moment, at least.

All of a sudden, we heard a thump from the nearest mound of peat. A sucking sound ensued, and a ragged flap of turf lifted from the puddle at its edge. From under the flap appeared a head that was round, whiskered—and unmistakable.

The ballymag started to say something, then gasped at the sight of the dragon. For a long moment he watched us, tugging anxiously on his whiskers. At last he spoke, his voice thoroughly gruff. “Humansfilthy, always needhaving scrubamuck.”

Hallia’s eyes shone, as radiant as the liquid light in which we had once bathed. “That,” she replied, “would be mooshlovely.”