Into the thinking kingdoms - Alan Dean Foster [107]
He resisted the image and everything it said about him, quickly passing the mirror back to the swordsman. “Something’s wrong. That isn’t me there. That isn’t myself as I am. That’s a reflection of me as I was.” He turned angrily on Ehomba. “Why did you show that to me? Why?”
“I did not show it to you.” The herdsman’s voice was level and unchanged. “You asked to look into it, and demanded it from Simna. Remember?”
“Well, it’s wrong, all wrong.” A disgruntled Knucker turned away from both of them.
“It could be,” Ehomba admitted. “You would have to ask Likulu about that. Myself, I brought it along to use for signaling, not to serve as an ordinary mirror.”
“Hoy, whatever it be, it sure ain’t no ordinary mirror, bruther.” Simna gripped the rectangle of battered material securely. But he did not look into it again.
Behind him, a loud chuff signified to the presence of the litah. “I’d like to have a look. I’ve only seen my reflection in still waters.”
“Hoy, that’s a fine idea!” His characteristic vivacity returning, the swordsman gladly presented the reflective face of the mirror to the big cat, winking at his companions as he did so. He couldn’t wait to see what kind of effect it had on the majestic and insufferably arrogant feline.
“There.” He strove to position the mirror to ensure that Ahlitah had the best view possible of his own reflection. “Is that all right? Can you see yourself clearly?”
Luminous, tawny eyes narrowed slightly as they gazed into the glass. “Yes, that’s fine.” The litah nodded slowly. “That is about how it should be.”
Simna’s expectant “Watch this!” grin soon gave way to a look of uncertainty. Frowning, he directed the hesitant Knucker to come and hold the mirror. As soon as the smaller man had a good grip on the rectangle, the swordsman walked around to stand alongside the big cat, pressing close to the massive, musky mass so that he too could get a good look at the predator’s reflection. Because of the slight angle, his view was not as good as the litah’s, but it was sufficient to show the likeness in the mirror.
A proud and imperious countenance gleamed back at him, the black litah powerfully reflected in all its mature vigor and resplendent virility. So resplendent, in fact, that the image in the mirror not only sported a pale golden halo, but cast sparks from its extremities, from the tips of its ears and the end of its nose as well as from elsewhere. The black mane had been transformed into a glistening, rippling aurora of ochroid indigo that framed the rest of the regal visage in a magnificent effulgence.
With a soft snort, Ahlitah turned way from the mirror, unimpressed. “Yes, that’s about right.”
The redness that bloomed on the swordsman’s cheeks had nothing to do with a surfeit of sunshine. “It can’t be!” Whirling around to confront Ehomba, he shook the fragment of scored, metal-backed glass in the herdsman’s face. “Knucker’s right! There’s something wrong here. This unnatural mirror is possessed by an evil spirit. One that delights in laughing at us.”
Ehomba did his best to accommodate his companion’s concern. “You may be right, Simna. But do not come to me looking for explanations. I told you: It was a gift, one of many, hastily thrust upon me prior to my leaving the village. To me, it is just a mirror. A piece of polished glass that reflects things as they are—though what other properties it may possess I do not know. To understand more, you would have to—”
“Ask Likcold, or whatever her name is—I know.” Frustrated, the swordsman started to return the mirror to its owner—and hesitated. “Hoy, bruther, why don’t you have a look?” He gestured behind him. “Everyone else gazed into the glass. Why not you?”
Ehomba smiled amicably. “I already know what I look like, Simna.”
“You do, do you?” The smaller man’s gaze narrowed, and there was a glint