The Stranger - Max Frei [28]
Astonished, he turns to Sir Olli. At the sight of his face covered with blood, the fury of the old man turns to fear; the capricious grimace to an expression of shamefaced guilt. Peace negotiations get underway.
None of those involved in the event noticed what we were able to see. About the surface of the old mirror skittered a light ripple, like a sigh. In the places where the unlucky servant’s daubs of blood had touched the ancient glass, something began to pulsate and move. In a moment, it was all over. Only the mirror had become slightly darker, and deeper. But who pays attention to things like that? Sir Olli’s lips began to form sounds, a timid smile of relief appeared on Maddi’s bloodstained face. From behind the door someone’s head appeared. End of scene. The gloom thickened in front of us for a moment.
In a few seconds this gloom became the cozy darkness of the bedchamber. The weak light from a sliver of moon played over the sunken cheeks of Sir Olli. Something woke the old man up. I could tell that he was frightened. I felt his fear with my whole body—his helplessness and despair. I heard how he tried calling out to the servants; I felt that for the first time in his life something didn’t happen when he wished it to; just like today, when I couldn’t reach Juffin with my call. But in my case, I just lacked experience, though I had enough strength. Plus, in the end, I did manage to get through. Sir Olli, however, no longer had the strength to use Silent Speech. He was overcome by an icy horror. Something utterly alien and uncanny, which he could neither control nor understand, was in the room with him. For a moment it seemed to me that I saw a tiny object crawling along the old man’s cheek. I was seized by a shudder of disgust.
“Max, do you see that tiny vile thing?” Juffin asked in a whisper.
“Yes, I think I do.”
“Don’t look directly at it. Even better, don’t look at it at all. It’s a very powerful nasty little thing! The Master of the Mirror can take away your shadow, even now, when it is just a vision. Now I understand why old Lady Braba was frightened out of her wits—she’s the most gifted Seer in Echo. Not everyone has the strength to discern something like that—thank goodness! Take a sip of the elixir Max; a bit of protection wouldn’t hurt you at this point . . . There—the monster is going back into the mirror. In the places where the blood had smudged the mirror, he now has a door. You can look now. Have you ever seen a shadow disappear? Look, look!”
My trembling passed; my fear, as well. I concentrated again, and almost immediately saw the familiar outlines of the bedchamber. A semi-transparent Sir Makluk-Olli, looking younger but deathly scared, stood beside the mirror and looked at the other Sir Makluk-Olli, lying immobile in the bed. The surface of the mirror shuddered. The shadow (apparently, it was a shadow) sobbed helplessly, turned to the mirror, then tried to step back, to no avail. It didn’t melt, but seemed to disperse into the air in thousands of little shimmering flames of light. The flames burned out quickly, but I had time to notice that several of them disappeared into the mirror’s glassy surface. Five little flames: the exact number of poor Maddi’s spots of blood on the mirror.
Then the fear subsided, sharply and absolutely. The darkness of the bedroom became cozy and comforting—although there was now a dead man in the room. After all, death is something natural and predictable, unlike Magic of the 200th and Something Degree, be it black, white, or gray-brown-raspberry colored.
I realized I had stopped distinguishing the outline of our vision. Sir Juffin nudged me with his elbow. The show went on.
It was light again in the bedchamber. I saw a nice-looking young man in a festive bright-orange skaba. That was, of course, the hapless Nattis, the apprentice-courtier, who regrettably had not stayed home in the grand city of Gazhin. The young fellow