The Mirror of Her Dreams (6 page)

'What's obvious,' he began sourly, Ms that I haven't gone wrong the way you believe. You haven't considered-'

'Boy,' Master Barsonage growled behind him, 'watch your tone. We are Masters here. We are not required to hear the insolence of an Apt.'

At once, chagrin rushed over the anger and embarrassment in Geraden's face. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean-' He flung a look of misery and contrition at Barsonage. 'But this is so
important.'

'We are aware of what is important,' rasped the heavy-set man, Master Gilbur. 'Credit us with that minimum of intelligence. The rest we will be able to reason for ourselves.'

Terisa was only marginally attentive to what was being said. As soon as Eremis stopped looking
at her,
she was nearly overcome by a sense of unreality. None of this was possible. Where was she really? Was this what happened when her tendency to fade away was pushed to its conclusion? Deliberately, she concentrated on what she could see, trying to convince herself of her surroundings.

She had her back to the mirror on the stone dais: instinctively, she felt that was one glass into which she didn't wish to glance. Master Eremis had positioned her in an almost proprietary way at his side; the rest of the Imagers were clustered around Geraden, Barsonage, and Gilbur. And they all stood near the open centre -the dais itself occupied the centre-of a large, round chamber with a flagstone floor. Crude-hewn grey granite formed the walls and ceiling. Several huge torches burned in sconces set around the distant walls; but most of the light came from oil lamps hanging from the four thick pillars which supported the high vaults of the ceiling. Within the area marked by the pillars, the centre of the chamber was ringed by a carved wooden railing with benches like pews outside it, facing inward. The benches could have seated forty or fifty people.

This, she guessed, was the official meeting hall of the Congery of Imagers. That seemed reasonable-which was good. If it were reasonable, it might also be real.

She would have liked to wander away from the group of men, do a little exploring on her own. But part of her did hear what the Masters were saying. She heard the appeal in Geraden's voice, the weight of sarcasm with which Master Gilbur responded. Though she had only known Geraden for-what was it? ten minutes now? twenty at the most-she felt loyal to him. He had talked and listened to her and smiled as if she actually existed. Meeting the flustered contrite-and-urgent supplication in his eyes, she said to the Masters, 'I think you ought to give him a chance. There must be some reason why I agreed to come with him.'

At once, she winced inwardly and wanted to apologize to Geraden, because Master Eremis let out a peal of laughter. There must indeed, my lady,' he chortled. 'I was wrong to speak of dalliance, for that surely was no part of this Apt's appeal. He, has many virtues, but grace and wit are not among them. Since we have no reason to believe that you were brought by force, there must indeed be some reason why you are with him.' Several of the Imagers chuckled at Eremis' jest; but Geraden could do nothing except duck his head to hide his misery. 'Well, speak, Geraden,' the Master went on. 'What is it that you believe we have not considered?'

For a moment, Terisa thought that Geraden would refuse to answer. She had watched her father embarrass her mother on any number of occasions, and the only outlet her mother had found for her resentment had been a refusal to speak. But Geraden set aside whatever humiliation he felt. Excitement surged into his gaze, and he took a step forward almost as if he were jumping.

'Master Eremis'-he turned his head-'Master Gilbur'- again, he faced Eremis, Terisa, and the mirror-'you know I'm only an Apt, and you laugh because I make a lot of mistakes. But you haven't thought about what she
means.'
He made an open-handed gesture towards Terisa. 'Why is she here?
How
did she get here?

'Master Gilbur, you taught me how to shape that mirror. It's exactly like the one you made. You know they're exactly alike because what you see in this mirror is the same as what your mirror shows. They're the same.

'Master Eremis, have you ever heard of a mirror that could translate things it didn't show?'

This question took several of the Masters aback. Gilbur scowled like the clenching of a fist; Eremis' mouth twisted thoughtfully; Barsonage raised his eyebrows so far that they appeared to grow back over his skull. A small man with a face like a rabbit's nodded vigorously.

Now Geraden was speaking to all the Imagers at once. The greatest Masters we know of have never been able to make mirrors that show one thing and translate another. Adept Have-lock in his prime couldn't do it. Even the stories about arch-Imager Vagel don't mention any power as strong as that.

Think about it, Masters. Either I've stumbled by accident onto the greatest achievement in the history of Imagery. Or I'm already the greatest Master since the first mirror was shaped.' Abruptly, he stopped, fixing his gaze squarely on Eremis.

'Or what, Apt?' Master Gilbur growled. 'Surely you do not expect us to stomach either of those alternatives?'

'Or,' Geraden said slowly, still holding Eremis' eyes, 'another power intervened. Maybe it was the same power that shaped the augury. It took me to a place I could not have reached with that mirror. A place where I could find the champion the augury intended instead of the one you chose.'

He was nearly whispering, and his brown eyes shone intently. 'She's the one I should have been sent to bring back. She's the one who can save us.'

For an instant, all the Congery stared in silence at Geraden and his assertion. Then the rabbity Master announced in a high, thin voice, 'I said so. I have said so from the beginning. This proves it. They
are
real.'

'Oh, forsooth,' retorted Gilbur trenchantly. The Apt speaks cleverly, but he defies reason.
She
our augured saviour?
She
the power to rescue us from Imagery gone mad? Look at her, Masters. What are her powers? How will she fight in our defence? In what way is she superior to the champion we have chosen?'

As he spoke, he aimed a thick forefinger at the glass behind Terisa.

Several of the men shifted their attention there. Even Master Eremis turned and gave the mirror a glance.

Involuntarily, Terisa obeyed Gilbur's pointing.

Her first impression was confirmed: the mirror didn't reflect anything which she could see here-or which she had ever seen.

The tinted and faintly rippled glass showed a scene distant enough to be quite large, but not distant enough to weaken its primary figures. In the middle ground of a stark and alien landscape lit by the scarlet glow of an old, red sun stood a metallic shape which her mind instantly labelled a 'spaceship'. Forming a defensive perimeter around the ship were a number of manlike forms, also metallic: a moment passed before she realized that they actually were men, men in armour. They were under attack; but the destructive beams which chewed pieces off the landscape only glanced from the helmets and chestplates of the defenders. She couldn't see the effect of the fire they returned, but it must have been adequate: they weren't driven back towards their ship.

The central figure of the scene, however, wasn't the ship or one of the fighters. Rather, it was another metal-clad individual who occasionally waved his arms or shifted his attention as though he were directing the battle. He was heavily armed: strange weapons hung on his hips, and strapped to his back was a rifle the size of a small cannon. But more than his armament, it was his stance which conveyed a staggering sense of power through the glass. He stood the alien ground as if he meant to decimate whole populations in order to claim it.

Terisa understood at once that he was the champion, the strong and violent being Geraden had been sent to find.

That
was the kind of help Mordant needed? The danger was
that
severe? And Geraden wanted these men to take
her
seriously as an answer to their problem, an augured saviour? Suddenly, she realized that Master Gilbur was right. If Geraden considered her a sane answer to a problem of that scope, he was out of his mind.

What kind of lunacy had possessed her to take his hand? She should absolutely have gone to the phone, called security, and accepted the consequences. The strain of having to face her father would have been preferable to the impossibility of where she was now.

It affected her like dizziness. What was she
doing
here? She turned away from the mirror in a blur and seemed to lose her balance. Then she found herself gazing up into Master Eremis' face as if she were asking him for help. Though she didn't know him at all, she felt his intelligence, his strength, his effectiveness. His humour was built on confidence, and it promised results even when he was jesting.

He met her appeal for a moment, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as though he were about to start laughing again. But he didn't. Instead, he let a good-natured frown crease his high forehead. 'Masters,' he said in a musing tone, 'it is a subtle question. We must not dismiss it lightly. Apt Geraden makes a point which deserves consideration.'

Over Master Gilbur's growl of exasperation, Eremis went on, That his taste in champions is suspect I grant you. But there is simple truth in his words. Either he has stumbled by chance into a miracle. Or he has secretly made himself greater than us all.' Master Eremis put aside the protests of the Congery with a delicate wave of his fingers. 'Or there is a power at work here which we do not comprehend-and which we must take into account.

'I propose,' he continued promptly, 'that we adjourn for the present. We must have time to think. Mordant's need is urgent, but it does not require foolish haste. What say you? Perhaps tomorrow we will understand these things better.

'Master Barsonage?'

Terisa was faintly surprised to hear him suggest rather than announce an adjournment: she had assumed automatically that he was the leader of the Congery. But that role seemed to belong to the thick, bald man with the eyebrows like scrub and the pine-yellow skin. When Eremis addressed him, he glanced around the Masters for a moment, taking a consensus. After most of them had indicated their assent, he said, 'It is likely a wise idea. I doubt that we will gain much insight into whether Apt Geraden is the victim of accident, genius, or intervention. But we must determine what we will do about it. Those of us who are already weary of argument will need rest before facing that debate.'

Brusquely, he concluded, 'Let us meet again tomorrow.'

Master Eremis grinned his approval. 'Very good.' Then he turned to Terisa and extended his hand. 'My lady, will you accompany me? Someone must offer you the hospitality of Orison. I will see you honourably quartered, as befits a woman of your obvious importance.' He gave the word
importance
a slight,

jesting stress, teasing either her or Geraden. 'And there are many things of which I wish to speak with you.'

He was looking squarely at her again, and she doubted that she could have refused his offer even if she had wanted to: his direct attention was seductive and compelling. It seemed to make her throat dry and her knees unsteady. Involuntarily, she reacted to him as if he were the first man who had ever looked at her in that way. As far as she knew, he
was
the first.

But when she raised her hand to take Eremis', Geraden suddenly said, 'My lady, I prefer that you accompany me.' His manner had become formal.

At once, an astonished silence dropped over the Masters; they stared at Geraden as though he had just insulted Eremis. The flush on Geraden's skin betrayed that he was conscious of his audacity. Nevertheless the muscles of his jaw bunched stubbornly, and his eyes didn't flinch.

Master Eremis raised an eyebrow; Terisa felt his concentration shift from her to Geraden. But after a brief flick away his gaze returned to hers. 'Come,' he said in an appealing-and commanding-tone. The Apt has played his part in these matters, but now he must leave them to those of greater rank, ability, and experience. You will not complain of my company, I think, my lady.'

She almost went with him. She wanted to-or thought she wanted to-or perhaps she had no idea what she wanted, but if she went with him he might be able to answer that question for her.

The Apt wasn't prepared to let her go, however. 'My lady,' he said, his voice clenched around his anxiety and determination, 'Master Eremis believes that you do not exist.'