The Mirror of Her Dreams (71 page)

He peered at her dubiously, uncertain how to take her. 'Do you mean that? I know I apologize a lot. If you caused as much trouble as I do, you would too. So far, you're the only thing I haven't been wrong about. You shouldn't have to bear the brunt of my disasters.'

There was no question aboutMt: he deserved better from her. Trying to provide it, she looked straight into his eyes and said, 'You don't get me in trouble. You save me. Orison is full of disasters, but as far as I'm concerned you haven't caused any of them. You're one of the few people who wants to do something about them.

'You don't have anything to apologize for.'

He continued to study her warily. When she didn't drop her gaze, however, he began to relax. His shoulders lifted; the chagrin let go of his face; his eyes brightened as if they had been wiped clean. After a moment, he said softly, 'Thank you.'

Now her heart was eased. She was willing to fight the pain in her head if that enabled her to make him happier. Smiling more successfully, she sat down in one of the chairs near the fire, then gestured towards her tray. 'Have you had breakfast? I've got more than I can eat.'

He shook his head: he seemed to be suppressing a burst of exuberance, a desire to shout or sing or hug her. Moving with comic care, so that he wouldn't trip or lose his balance, he turned a chair to face hers and seated himself. Then he gleamed in humorous triumph, as if to say, And you thought I couldn't do it.

What he actually said, however, was, 'What did King Joyse want to talk to you about?'

She hoped without much optimism that her sudden surge of anxiety didn't show. In the press of more recent events, she had forgotten the question of what to tell him about her discussion with the King. He might be appalled by what she had discovered, deeply grieved to learn that his father's old friend and his own childhood hero was deliberately embarked on the destruction of Mordant. And Master Quillon had made a point of explaining that Geraden was still in danger from his nameless enemies, still liable to pay a high price for knowing too much. Or had Master Quillon come to Master Eremis' conclusion that Geraden himself was dangerous, not to be trusted? Were Eremis' reasons for his distrust that good?

When she didn't reply at once, Geraden went on, 'Being thrown out of his rooms like that wasn't exactly the highlight of my life.' He sounded incongruously cheerful, as if he wanted to encourage her, 'I didn't think the Tor would take his side.' He shrugged. 'On the other hand, I don't have any reason to believe I ever know what the Tor is going to do. I just want to understand. I want King Joyse to say something that makes sense.'

Terisa wasn't listening. The question in front of her was too complex to be answered casually. She needed more time to think. More time to watch. Unconscious of her own abruptness, she said, 'He wanted to talk about checkers some more.' Her headache was getting ahead of her. On impulse, she added, 'Elega was here.'

Geraden waited expectantly. When she didn't continue, he asked, The lady Elega? My former betrothed? When was that?'

She tried to clear her thoughts. Actually, she had a number of things she wanted to talk to Geraden about. Elega might be a safe place to start. If she could get her hangover under control.

'She was waiting here for me. When I got back from seeing Master Eremis.'

'What did she want?'

Terisa hesitated momentarily. Was she sure she wanted to say this to Geraden?

Yes. She was already carrying too many questions alone.

With unexpected ire, she articulated distinctly, The lady Elega wanted to enlist me in a plot against her father.'

Geraden froze. 'What kind of plot?'

'I don't have any idea.' As fully as she could, she told him what had been said-and what she surmised. His eyes narrowed at Prince Kragen's name, but he listened without interrupting. Sourly, she concluded, That was why I didn't want any more visitors yesterday. I didn't want to take the chance I might hear anything else like that for a while.'

He frowned without speaking for a moment-long enough to make her wonder whether he believed her. She wanted him to believe her. The more secrets she kept, the more lies she told, the greater her need to be believed became, especially when she was being honest. Fortunately, he began to nod.

That's always worried me about her,' he murmured, brooding. 'I've always had the feeling she was more interested in what kings are than in what they do. More interested in the power than in what the power is for. She might be capable of some pretty unscrupulous decisions.'

'So you don't think I'm jumping to conclusions?'

'No.' His face was tense with thought. 'Not after your conversation with Prince Kragen. By that time, they had probably already agreed to approach you.'

'I wish I knew what they think I can do,' she complained simply because she felt like complaining. 'It's the same problem I have with everybody. Even you. You all think I can
do
something.' But her parents had never permitted her to whine; and she found she didn't care for the sound of it herself. 'I haven't showed much sign of it yet,' she finished.

Geraden went on musing morosely. 'What should
we
do?' he wondered. 'Should we tell King Joyse?'

Careful not to reveal too much, she countered, 'If we could get him to listen, do you think he would pay any attention?'

He let out a dejected sigh. 'Probably not.' Then he asked, 'What about Castellan Lebbick?'

She shrugged. 'I don't like telling him anything. I don't like the way he treats me.

'He'll certainly
do
something. He may or may not be able to stop her-but whatever he does will give away the fact that we told him. She'll know she can't trust me. That'll be the end of our chances to find out what she's doing.'

The Apt shot her a glance and a quick grin. Tor someone who can't do anything, you seemed determined to try. What's your suggestion?'

She was about to say, I don't have any idea, when she had what felt like an inspiration. 'You could ask Argus and Ribuid to keep an eye on her.'

He blinked at the unexpected notion. They didn't exactly enjoy what happened the last time they did me a favour,' he muttered, thinking aloud. 'But this time Artagel is here to back me up. They might be willing-especially if they can think of a way to do it without making Castellan Lebbick suspicious.' He met Terisa's gaze as he added, 'It might be worth it. If we can just learn how she intends to communicate with Prince Kragen, that'll be an improvement.

'I'll ask them.' The decision brought back his sense of humour. With a mischievous glint, he commented, They may try to talk you into making it worth their while. You can guess what that means. The worst they can do to me is say no.'

Smiling at him was becoming easier. Her headache had begun to recede. And her anxiety had returned to relief. The sensation that here, at least, was one subject on which she wasn't alone- and on which Geraden agreed with her-was a positive pleasure. When he smiled back, she felt good enough to broach another of her many areas of incomprehension.

That conversation I had with Prince Kragen reminds me. What's an 'arch-Imager'?'

Her question made Geraden sit up straighter. 'It reminds you -? What connection-?' Almost at once, however, he pushed down his confusion, unwilling to give his questions precedence over hers, 'An arch-Imager is someone who has mastered what we consider the apex of translation-the ability to pass safely through flat glass. As far as we know, only one man has ever done it-the arch-Imager Vagel.

'In theory, the difficulty is that translation changes whatever it touches. When the translation involves a passage between separate worlds-or, if Master Eremis is right'-he grimaced- 'between our world and Images which are known not to exist in our world-the changes are appropriate. For instance, they solve the problems of language and breathing. But when you pass through a flat glass, you don't actually go anywhere. I mean, you move from place to place, but you stay in the same world. So you don't need to be changed. But you are anyway.' He looked down at his hands. 'It made Adept Havelock mad.

Theoretically, if you looked into a flat mirror that showed you to yourself-in other words, a mirror that was focused on the exact spot where you were standing, so that you were also in the Image looking out at yourself-you would go into a kind of translation cycle, passing simultaneously back and forth between yourself and your Image, changing literally without going anywhere. Probably nobody who looked at you would be able to see the difference. But your mind would be gone. Not just mad. Taken away.

'I still don't know how I survived seeing myself in that room where I found you. I have to believe mirrors
are
different in your world. Or you're the most powerful Imager we've ever heard of.

'Anyway, the other important point is that the capacity to be an arch-Imager seems to be just that-a capacity. It isn't a skill you can learn, it's a talent you're born with. If it were a skill, Havelock would have mastered it somehow. 'The Adept' isn't an honorary title. He earned it by being better at translations than anybody else. In particular, he was better at working translations with mirrors he didn't make.
I
can't even work them with mirrors I
did
make.

'Does that answer your question?'

Terisa nodded. She was trying to make what he told her fit her experience.

Then answer mine. What does all this have to do with your conversation with Prince Kragen?'

'Oh, that. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be cryptic. It just seems like this is crucial somehow. I was talking to him right before we were attacked. That's why it reminded me.'

Then she got to the point of her question. 'When Artagel examined the dead men-the ones who vanished later-he said he found an insignia-a 'sigil'-that meant they were Cadwals. They were Apts of the High King's Monomach. But when they attacked, they seemed to come out of nowhere. And when the rest of them were dead, their leader didn't have to run away. He just disappeared.

'He and his men must have come and gone through a flat mirror. But isn't that impossible? The Perdon and Prince Kragen decided Vagel must be involved, but that doesn't explain it. If passing through a flat glass safely is a matter of talent rather than training, then all of those men must have been arch-Imagers.'

And, now that she thought about it, how had Master Gilbur contrived to elude the Castellan? If it was conceivable that the man in black and Master Gilbur were allies, surely it was also conceivable that the Master had disappeared in the same way?

For a long moment, Geraden regarded her thoughtfully.
'
You know,' he said with a wry chuckle, 'a lifetime ago, when I was still a new Apt, and I believed I was going to accomplish glorious things, I used to lie awake at night stewing about questions like that. And I came up with an idea that might work,

'First you shape a flat glass which just happens to be focused exactly where you want it.' He shrugged humorously. 'A trivial problem for the Imager I intended to be. Then you make another mirror-a normal one this time-that just happens to show a world which is essentially inert. No people or animals-and preferably no weather-to interfere with what you're doing. Then you translate the first mirror into the second and position it so that it fills as much of the Image as possible. And then-if the first mirror hasn't changed-and if it's actually possible to work two translations almost simultaneously-you might be able to pass through and keep your mind in one piece.'

He grinned. 'Ingenious, don't you think?'

'Yes.' Actually, she thought it was more than ingenious: she thought it was brilliant. But some of the implications-'It would take two people, wouldn't it? One to translate the other?'

'Not to go. But it would to come back. That's true of any translation.'

Therefore if Master Gilbur had escaped by the same device which had saved the man in black, then Geraden was proven innocent. Everyone in Orison was innocent (especially Geraden -but also Master Eremis, who was locked up in the dungeon and had no access to mirrors) because they were
here
rather than wherever the mirrors were located. They could not have pulled Master Gilbur away.

Almost shivering, she said, 'I wish there was some way we could find out what really happened. If your idea is right, Master Gilbur probably left Orison the same way the men who attacked me came in.'