A Mirror Against All Mishap

by Jack Massa

  Lonn ran to the helm, shouting orders. The Iruks untied the sail and bent their backs to the halyard. With the yard in place, they adjusted the sheets, and Lonn set a course to bring them abreast of the drommons. By then, Amlina could see the red and gold flags flying from the masts.

  “The Dragon-Amid-the-Waves,” Wilhaven remarked, “the flag of Kadavel.”

  “So it is.” Amlina gave a faint, bitter laugh. “Hagen, their Prince-Ruler, developed a certain interest in the Cloak of the Two Winds when it was held in his city. His desire to possess it must have grown strong indeed.”

  “But how could they have tracked us here?” Eben asked from beside the bard.

  “Hagen’s state sorcerers,” Amlina replied. “They bent much labor and attention on the Cloak and must have developed an affinity for it. If they perceived the possibility of it being torn from Beryl’s grasp, they could also have seen it would pass this way.”

  The drommons had moved into position to block the Phoenix Queen from escaping the cove. From the high rear deck of the flagship, a herald in red livery blew a trumpet flourish, then called out through a megaphone.

  “Greetings to the ship of Gwales. You are blockaded by a war fleet of the Princely City of Kadavel.”

  Amlina cupped her hands and called back with the strongest voice she could muster. “We are a free vessel. Why do you molest us unlawfully on the open sea?”

  A man dressed in maroon with gold-colored armor conferred with the herald. Amlina recognized Hagen himself, the Prince-Ruler.

  “We believe you are in possession of an item stolen from our city,” the herald called, “a certain black and silver cloak of magical properties. Our Prince-Ruler wishes this item returned. We propose to send a boarding party under a flag of truce to search your vessel. If you surrender the Cloak, or if it is not found, you will not be inconvenienced further.”

  “Oh, I remember that Prince-Ruler well,” Karrol called from amidships, two spears in her grasp. “Threatened to execute us when our hands were tied. Maybe he’d like to come over and fight us for the Cloak.”

  Amlina considered, then shouted back to the Tathians: “You may send your boarding party, but only to discuss the matter. And be aware, we are able to defend ourselves, with spears and magic both.”

  “Why let them board us?” Glyssa asked.

  “Yes,” Eben said. “If the Cloak will get us free, why not use it now?”

  Amlina answered wearily. “I might be able to beguile or bluff them. Using the Cloak must be a last resort.” And I’m not sure I have the strength for it. But she kept that thought to herself.

  The klarnmates watched as a pilot boat was lowered from the flagship. Amlina went below to don the Cloak. When she came back on deck, the pilot boat was crossing the water. It held a crew of five—four rowers and a helmsman—plus three passengers. Two were sorcerers, bearded men in long robes and tall pointed hats. The other was an officer in armor and plumed helmet. The Prince-Ruler himself still watched from the high deck.

  As the boat neared the bow of the Phoenix Queen, Amlina arranged for the Iruks to stand in front of her, spears in hand. Light-headed, her palms perspiring, she worried that she might faint before this parley ended.

  Three of the boat’s crewmen clambered over the side, glanced grimly at the Iruks, then turned to help haul the sorcerers aboard. Last came the officer. When he removed his helmet, Amlina recognized the bearded face.

  “Who is in command?” he said. “Where is the lady?”

  “Stand aside, my friends,” Amlina said.

  The Iruks parted ranks. The eyes of the sorcerers gaped wide and one of them pointed.

  “My lord, it is as we foretold! She has the magic cloak and wears it brazenly.”

  Amlina ignored him and addressed the commander. “I believe we have met before, sir. Admiral Dantonius, is it not?” Dantonius had commanded the fleet blocking the channel to Kadavel when Amlina’s ship first sailed there.

  The admiral stared hard. “Yes, I remember. But last time we met you claimed to be merely a ship owner’s daughter, not a powerful witch.”

  “I claimed what suited my purpose,” Amlina said. “And now I tell you this: the Cloak of the Two Winds belongs to Larthang, and I am returning it there. Kadavel has no valid claim.”

  Dantonius surveyed the stern faces of the Iruks, and their hands tight on their weapons. His eyebrows flicked up when he noticed Wilhaven and Kizier.

  “It is a rag-tag crew you have here, Lady. Barbarians from the South Pole—I remember them from before—and these two, a pirate of Gwales, if I am not mistaken, and a skinny beggar, who cannot be much good in a fight.” He spread his hands. “I am not here to debate the validity of claims. My prince has you trapped by blockade and outnumbered more than a hundred to one. He will take the Cloak if you do not surrender it.”

  Glaring, Amlina gestured at the sorcerers. “I imagine these two learned men have some knowledge of the Cloak. But I’m not sure they have informed your prince of its full powers. By summoning both winds at once, I can easily create a storm to wreck your fleet and drive the remnants hundreds of leagues away.”

  The Admiral hesitated, turning to the sorcerers. “Well?”

  The men looked at one another, perplexed. “Uh … There are certain accounts in the annals,” one stammered.

  “But those are usually discounted as highly improbable,” the other said.

  Dantonius sighed unhappily. After a moment, he unbuckled his sword belt and handed it to a crewman. “Lady, if I may approach for a private word?”

  Amlina smiled and beckoned him over. Eyeing the Iruks warily, he stepped close to the witch and spoke in muted tones.

  “I am only a seaman and know nothing of scholarship or sorcery. I certainly cannot judge whether your threat is plausible. But in the interests of protecting the lives of my men, I tell you this: Prince Hagen has become obsessed with recovering this Cloak. Remember, its appearance in our city caused turmoil, unnatural weather, unrest. The Empress of Far Nyssan, the Archimage, brought her war fleet near our shores. Then, as riots were breaking out in the city, the High Priest of the Temple of the Air was assassinated, and that same night you, the Archimage, and the Cloak all disappeared. The Prince-Ruler was left looking weak and ineffectual. He faced challenges to his government, bordering on open revolt. But rather than meet those problems head on, he made tracking down this Cloak his mission. He has committed many months, many ships, and much treasure to the effort. As I said, it has become his obsession. Now it is nearly in his grasp. He will not be deterred.”

  Amlina’s head was swimming. She remembered that Beryl had planted the idea of winning the Cloak as a seed in Hagen’s mind. Small wonder if that seed had grown into a mania.

  She lowered her eyes. “I am sorry for your men, Admiral. But I also cannot be deterred. The Cloak must go back to Larthang. Your fleet must make way for us to pass.”

  Dantonius bowed his head in resignation. “I regret your decision, but I will convey it to my prince.”

  As the pilot boat was rowed back to the flagship, Amlina and her mates watched from the rail of the Phoenix Queen.

  “So you will have to use the Cloak after all,” Eben said. “I assume you were not bluffing about its power?”

  “Oh, no,” Amlina answered. “It will raise a tempest—if I have the strength.”

  “Are you not well enough?” Glyssa asked with concern.

  “Yes,” the witch answered. “I have to be. But let us wait until the admiral makes his report. Perhaps it will not be necessary.”

  They watched in silence as the party of the pilot boat climbed back onboard the flagship. Dantonius marched quickly aft and climb the steps to the rear deck. Amlina discerned by his gestures and stance that he was trying to convince Hagen to relent. But Hagen stood with arms folded. He questioned the state sorcerers as soon as they arrived on the rear deck. Then he turned to the herald, barking orders.

  The herald raised the megaphone and hailed t
he cranock. “By order of Hagen, Prince-Ruler of Kadavel: Surrender the Cloak of the Two Winds or you will be boarded and then sunk.”

  Amlina waited no longer. She raised both her arms, hands pointed at the Tathian fleet. The Cloak’s left sleeve called the freezewind, the right sleeve the meltwind. Both raised together could summon limitless powers of sea and air. Closing her eyes, Amlina lifted her mind from her body, cast it into the sky. The Cloak came to life and her hands trembled.

  Pain flared inside her skull. Her legs wobbled, and she gripped the rail to keep from falling.

  “Are you all right?” Draven cried.

  Amlina scanned the anxious faces of her mates. “I do not have the strength.”

  * O *

  At the edge of the cove, the drommons were lowering their oars, maneuvering to begin the attack. Glyssa laid a hand on the witch’s arm.

  “What shall we do?”

  Amlina’s face was ashen. “You will have to do it.”

  Glyssa leaned back. “But—I don’t know how.”

  Amlina was already shrugging off the Cloak. “You remember when we called the North Wind? This is very similar. I will guide you.”

  “But—“ Glyssa cast her glance at the drommons. “Very well. I will try.”

  She received the Cloak and pulled it over her shoulders. Immediately, she felt its magic, hot and freezing cold, as if all the weather in the world was woven into its fabric. She tugged the sleeves over her arms.

  “Raise your hands,” Amlina instructed. “Stretch your fingers. Point them at the ships.”

  The drommons were turning, oars striking the water, bows pointing at the cranock. With a flicker of panic, Glyssa recalled all of her attempts at pure shaping, all of the failures.

  “Cast your thoughts into the sky,” Amlina said, “the source of all winds. Then remember that the sky is but a manifestation of the Deepmind, the true source of all. Its power is linked to the Cloak you wear.”

  “Yes,” Glyssa answered. “I feel it.”

  “Good,” Amlina whispered. “Now call the power, Glyssa. Summon it through both your arms, call it into the world as a mighty wind to scatter our enemies.”

  Glyssa’s mind flew away into the sky. Deep in trance, she recalled every wind and storm she had ever witnessed. She gathered them all together into one, the Father of All Winds, and called it down through the Cloak and into the world.

  About the Phoenix Queen, the water lapped mildly.

  But away to the west the sea lifted, tossing and churning. Wind came whistling out of the blue sky. Even as the sun shone on the cranock, thunderheads appeared, rushing together over the Tathian fleet.

  Lightning flashed and thunder cracked. Breakers rolled toward the drommons’ bows. Sailors’ shouts of fear and confusion sounded in the turbulent air.

  Still more power poured through Glyssa’s arms. The waves mounted higher, pushing the hulls of the drommons, crashing them into each other. The storm clouds blackened. Winds howled louder and louder, moving the fleet away from the island, sweeping it off to the west.

  Amid the roaring and thunder, Glyssa heard Amlina shouting. “Send them far away! Will the storm to last all day and night.”

  Glyssa poured that intention into the Cloak and into the sky. The fleet and the black clouds flowed away toward the horizon. The deafening tumult slowly diminished, and finally died.

  At last, Glyssa lowered her arms. Standing on the gently rocking deck, she stared down at her hands, stunned.

  Her mates had gathered around her, mouths hanging open, expressions of awe on their faces. Amlina stood with her back against Draven, cradled by his arms.

  “Now Glyssa can call the freezewind,” she murmured, “and take us far away.”

  * O *

  Glyssa slept fitfully that night. She lay under a fur, sharing the crawlspace below the rear deck with Lonn, Eben, Karrol, and Kizier. There was no roll to the boat. The cranock, she remembered, rested on ice. Even in the warm season, the ice would last a day or two, according to the witch.

  Of course, when it melted, Glyssa could put on the Cloak and call another freeze.

  She could summon the winds. That staggering thought came back again and again. She could not cease reliving the events of the morning, the vast energies that had flowed through her body, the power of magic to shape the world.

  She might have fallen asleep and dreamed, or it might have been a vision …

  She found herself crawling into a lodge house somewhere in the Iruk Isles. Blue flames rolled over oil, burning in a circular stone hearth. A lone figure was bent over the fire. Iridescent raven feathers gleamed on his shoulders. The beaked mask lay by his knee.

  “Welcome, Glyssa, daughter of my tribe.”

  She sat down at the fire. “Honored Belach. I am happy to see you.”

  “Are you? I am happy to hear it.” He examined her with his eyes like black beads. “I see you have done very well, on your quest to become a woman of power. You have overcome fear, and you have also conquered deceit, using clarity of vision. But now, I see, you have met the third great enemy, the most dangerous of all.”

  “Have I? What is it?”

  “It is power itself! Power can make you think much of yourself. It can tempt you to cruelty, to idleness, to indulging foolish whims, to neglecting what is truly important.”

  Glyssa realized, with embarrassment, that she had been thinking much of herself. “I see the wisdom in your words, honored Belach. But tell me: What is truly important that I must not neglect?”

  “Ha ha!” the shaman laughed. “That, young woman of power, is something you must answer for yourself.”

  She opened her eyes and sat up. Touching the space beside her, she realized Lonn was gone. Musing on what Belach had said, she pulled on her boots and went out on deck.

  The wind was calm. Both moons could be seen, floating among the stars. Sea-ice stretched in all directions, glowing with witchlight. Brinda stood the watch. She raised a hand and smiled at Glyssa. Up on the prow, Wilhaven sat silently working his harp, composing music purely in his mind.

  Glyssa climbed to the rear deck and found Lonn seated under the tiller, a fur wrapped around his shoulders. He showed a half-smile as she sat down beside him.

  “Why are you not sleeping?” she whispered.

  “Restless.” He spread the fur to cover her. “Thinking.”

  “About …?”

  He sighed. “Wondering what will happen after we reach Fleevanport. What will become of us?”

  “I have been wondering the same.”

  Lonn fretted. “We may have enough gold to last the rest of our days, but what then? Eben thinks to live in idleness. But that is not a good life for Iruks. Karol and Brinda say they will go back to hunting and sailing. But after all we have seen, I am not sure any of us can do that. We have crossed so many lands and seas, met so many kinds of people. It seems to me we have won everything, but also lost everything.”

  Glyssa nodded, smiling wistfully.

  “And you, Glyssa, you most of all. Today you raised a storm, called the freezewind into being. You have become a mighty witch, like Amlina. Could you ever go back to the simple Iruk ways?”

  She searched her heart for the answer. “You are right. I don’t know what will happen after this voyage. I don’t know what I will become. But I do know what is important to me.”

  “Oh, and what is that?”

  “My mates. To support them and love them for whatever time we have together. That goes for Amlina and Wilhaven too, even Kizier.”

  Lonn grunted. “That is well, I suppose.”

  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “But it goes for you most of all, Lonn.”

  He smiled at that and wrapped his arm around her. “Well. That’s all right then.”

  Glimnodd Calendar, Map, and Glossary

  Glimnodd has two moons. Grizna, the larger, has a period of 32 days. The small moon, Rog, has a cycle of 11 days. A month always refers to the 32-day Gr
izna cycle. The cycle of Rog is called a small-month or simply a rog.

  A year has six seasons, each two months or 64 days long:

  First Winter

  Second or Mid-Winter

  Third or Late Winter

  First Summer

  Second or High Summer

  Third or Late Summer

  A map of Glimnodd is available online at

  http://triskelionbooks.com/Glimnodd/Map of Glimnodd.pdf

  Glossary

  aklor - a tall, six-legged animal used as a mount or pack animal in the Three Nations

  Archimage - official title for the chief witch or mage of a nation

  bostull - a windbringer

  cantrip - a minor spell or 'mind trick'

  cranock - Gwales ship constructed of wooden planks and with a single mast

  Deepmind - the formative realm of which reality is a reflection

  deepseer - one skilled in the Larthangan art of deepseeing; that is, seeing outside the boundaries of time and space

  deepshaper - one skilled in the arts of shaping reality through magic

  design - any magical working

  desmet - a hanging trinket used to enhance mental power

  dojuk - Iruk hunting boat, agile on sea or ice

  drells - a delicate winged people whose land lies to the south of Larthang

  drog - literally 'shell', a creature formed of magic, animated by the will of a deepshaper, guided by a single purpose

  drommon - a Tathian warship, propelled by sail and oars

  ensorcellment - a great act of magic

  falchion - curved hunting sword used by the Iruks

  fire turtles - sea turtles that breathe fire. Normally considered non-sentient.

  Fleevan - Tathian colony in the South Polar region. The capital is Fleevanport.

  flizzard - a small winged reptile

  formulation - the Larthangan magical art of creating and casting power through mental constructs

  gallwolves - large wolves native to northern Nyssan