The Maiden in the Mirror

by Scott Hamerton

  Chapter 64

  The Choice of a Lady

  The door to the palace closed as the guards departed, leaving Minerva and Olbus in the central pavilion below the ceiling of rainbow silk. The boatswain comforted Minerva by standing behind her seat with his hand on her shoulder, as her vigilant bodyguard against unseen threats.

  Lord Arach gave Minerva a solemn look while they sat near the hearth. "Did you do it?" he asked.

  Minerva shook her head.

  "Then who did?"

  She wondered if he would even believe her.

  Lord Arach sighed and slumped down in a chair opposite hers.

  "Will the boys live?" Olbus asked politely.

  "One will. The girl that ran away says it's the same boy whose idea it was to throw Minerva off the ledge. Even if she did it, I wouldn't blame her. Self-defense is not murder."

  "I didn't kill them," Minerva insisted, hating the way that Arach talked as though she wasn't right in front of him.

  "Okay, you didn't kill them," he said. "Unfortunately, neither you nor the other girl can offer an explanation, and the boy is still with your surgeon. The girl said it was like the moon had grown a face and come down to kill them."

  Not a wholly inaccurate description, Minerva thought.

  "Can you at least tell me where their bodies are? Were they thrown over? If nothing else, a proper funeral is in order."

  Minerva couldn't reply. She didn't know how an entire person could simply vanish. In her stead, a distant voice spoke from across the large chamber.

  "It was an assassin."

  A weary Captain Glass entered the pavilion at the far end, lifting Minerva's spirits at the sight of him.

  Glass coughed as he walked forward. "Wasn't it, Miss Minerva? It was that thing. That shadow."

  Minerva nodded at him, glad that he was safe and glad that someone would believe her entire story.

  "A shadow assassin?" Lord Arach asked, looking at the two of them.

  "Assassins and magicians. My navigator tells me that they wield the darkness like a weapon. We've seen it before, and Minerva saved me back then. Captain Black has sent them to kill me. I'm sorry for what has transpired on my account."

  Arach appraised the sincerity in his three guests. As a magician himself, he could easily believe many things. "Then you can't stay in Reshampur."

  "I will leave on the first ship that will take me," Glass offered.

  "No ships will come this way for several weeks. Our only option is to repair the Skyraker."

  Captain Glass shook his head. "I cannot afford that service."

  "Then I have a different offer for you, Captain. I will assume the cost of your repairs, and release your crew, on one condition. I want Minerva to stay with me in the palace, for her own safety."

  Minerva felt Olbus' hand go tense.

  "I'm sorry, Lord Arach, but I cannot agree to that. She is a welcome member of my crew, so long as I have a crew. I cannot make that decision for her."

  Lord Arach turned his attention to Minerva. "What about you then, Minerva. Will you stay here and allow your captain and crew to escape the confines of their debt?"

  "I see the choice that you are forcing me to make, My Lord," Minerva said thoughtfully. "You are asking me to choose between being a pirate and being a lady."

  "I think I would have been disappointed if you did not. Do you accept?"

  Minerva thought about leaving Olbus and the twins and Big Jim. She thought about how long it would be until she could see Thimbler and Lockjaw again. Then she thought about all the people that would be free to live their lives outside the burdens of servitude, because of one simple choice.

  Perhaps her uncle would come through Reshampur, one day. In the end, it was the words of Nezzen that helped her decide. She would choose sacrifice.

  "I do."

  Chapter 65

  Prima Donna

  Luff and Leech were, to say the least, unhappy with Minerva's decision.

  "Take it back! Right now!"

  "I can't."

  "Yes. You can. Tell him!" They pointed adamantly at Lord Arach, who stood behind Minerva.

  "This is her choice, men. Leave her be," Olbus urged.

  The twins shook their heads and walked away, kicking at the dirt.

  Minerva wanted to cry. "Are you angry at me?" she asked Olbus.

  "You made a difficult choice. Neither option was in your favor."

  "That's not an answer."

  Olbus looked down at her, stern and cold. "It is the only answer I will give." Then his mouth opened and paused, as if he wanted to say something more, but he never spoke. Afterward, he gave her an affirming pat on the shoulder, and left.

  He never said sailor, she thought, as Lord Arach put his arm around her, trying to comfort her.

  "I only want to help them. Is that so wrong?"

  "They care about you, that much is clear, but you made the right choice."

  It didn't feel like the right choice.

  "Come, you can choose which of the rooms you would like to make your own."

  Chapter 66

  Tea Time

  Life with Lord Arach was difficult for Minerva. She was not accustomed to being waited on, and she decided quite quickly that wearing fancy gowns and doing up her hair wasn't very much fun when she was required to do it all the time. The room he provided came equipped with everything she had ever wanted as a child, which somehow made everything less desirable. It also had mirrors everywhere, a fact she somewhat hated.

  If Minerva left the palace, Arach assigned her a retinue of armed guards, for her own safety. She still saw the twins and the others on a regular basis, who thankfully overcame their frustrations. She was surprisingly glad to have them tease her about the whole situation. Neither Lintumen nor Nezzen were surprised to hear of the change in station. Lintumen encouraged her to engage Lord Arach as inspiration in the world of magic. Nezzen thanked her for giving up her future with the crew, and he was the only one of her friends to do so.

  The repairs to the Skyraker progressed quicker than anyone expected, partly due to the large workforce that Arach assigned, and partly due to the Skyraker sustaining less damage than it seemed.

  Tough old girl, the men remarked.

  Of greatest benefit to Minerva was the selection of goods and services in Reshampur. It may not have been as grand as the place called Taladihn that Thimbler had shown her in his catalogs, but the selection was still magnificent.

  Only when in her room at night did Minerva feel truly alone. The palace was exceptionally quiet, and quite large. Often, she would lay for an hour or more and gaze into the depths of a standing mirror at the foot of her bed, waiting for her dreams to find her.

  It quickly became a ritual of hers to choose one of the knots in the wooden planks that she could see in the mirror and follow its gentle curves around in circles until it met with another line going somewhere else. Her entire goal was to find the other mirrors in the room, and connect as many as possible without leaving her bed. The waning light of the hearth provided just enough illumination to soften all the contours and relax her mind.

  On her second pass beneath a large picture frame, ready to close her eyes and drift away, Minerva noticed something beside her bed. A white porcelain mask hung against the wall above her headboard. As her eyes met the blank void of its stare—instantly recognizing the broken corner of its facade—it turned to look down at her laying on the bed.

  Minerva flew to her feet out the far side of the bed and ran for the cover of her nightstand. She was already reaching to draw Velvet before she realized that her weapon was on the vanity; the vanity currently buried in shadows.

  "What do you want?" she stuttered, wielding a nearby hairbrush as a substitute.

  The shadow didn't respond. Its broken visage hovered lazily in the sea of its darkness, and Minerva sprinted for the door. All too effortlessly, it sealed off her exit, and she reeled back, fearful of the bottomless abyss it called its body.


  "Leave me alone! You're not welcome here!"

  The twisted mask bobbed back and forth as its body stretched towards her. Minerva snapped the lamp from her bedside table and pulled the top off as fast as she could, only to realize that she lacked a way to light it unless she wanted to grab a fistful of hot coals.

  "Why are you here?" she demanded, scuttling away.

  In response to her question, a gloved hand emerged from the body of her foe. It held out a letter, black as ash and flecked with white lettering.

  Minerva felt her pulse quicken uncontrollably. "What is it?"

  The shadow said nothing.

  "Whatever that is I won't take it."

  The white mask twisted down towards the paper and then back towards her. It shifted closer and pushed the letter out further. The lack of hostility in the action gave Minerva the fortitude to put a full thought together.

  "If you want to discuss something, then I will at least know who I am dealing with. Put that on the table and sit down."

  To Minerva's complete and utter amazement, the terrifying monster looked back and forth between her and the table, and then it moved over and set the letter down. Enveloping half the table, and the entire chair, it draped itself over the furniture.

  Minerva first lit the lantern on the table using a smoldering ember held in tongs, and then she crept slowly up to the edge of the blackness. The agent pushed forth the letter once more as Minerva sat down.

  "I told you, I refuse to acknowledge anything you bring me until I know who I am dealing with."

  If a faceless marionette could show emotion, this one was certainly trying. It seemed quite uncertain as to what exactly it should be doing. The whole scenario reminded Minerva of her first dinner with Lord Arach. It nudged the paper a few more times, but Minerva didn't respond. Instead, she focused her mind on not screaming and running in fear.

  Lord Arach's manservant, Ubadah, always brought Minerva tea at night, to help her sleep. The pot was still on the table, and was probably still warm enough to serve. Its presence proved instrumental in comforting her nerves as she poured a cup for her and her guest. She sweetened her cup to her liking, and then did her best to sip it without allowing her hand to shake.

  "Will you insult your host by refusing a cup of tea that has been poured for you?" she asked.

  The mask looked down at the cup for a moment, and then back at Minerva, before it formed two hands that reached up and gripped the sides of its mask. Then it removed its face and placed the porcelain device on the table beside the parchment.

  Minerva's mind raced. Sitting directly opposite her was a beautiful woman wreathed in formless shadows. Her disembodied face floated in the space of the nothingness around her, and shifting strands of inky night slid around the gentle lines of the teacup as the woman reached out for it. Then she raised it to her lips sipped.

  "I'm sorry, but could I ask that you remove your cloak?" Minerva asked. "I can stoke the fire for you if you are cold."

  The bodiless face of the woman shook at the mention of a fire before she slowly lowered her flowing cape to the ground, revealing the skintight clothes that clad her body. Then she pulled back the cloth that covered her head and neck, releasing long, straight, silver hair that fell across her shoulders.

  Minerva's cup started to rattle as the silver-haired woman reached forward and nudged the letter once more with a perfectly black glove.

  "I'm sorry, miss, but how should I address you?"

  Minerva's tea partner moved her lips, but said nothing. After a moment, she tried again, but Minerva still heard nothing. A life lived in complete silence seemed to have robbed the woman of her willingness to speak.

  "Sa—" she started on the third attempt, but the rest of the sentence trailed off into nothing.

  "Pardon?" Minerva urged, striving desperately to learn more about the strange assassin.

  "Sable," the woman said, in a voice both smooth and gentle.

  "Good evening, Sable. My name is Minerva. What is the nature of the letter on the table, and who is it from?"

  This agent, and its counsel, seek to advise you of the possibility of your—

  "Thank you, Sable. I will read it now."

  When she got into whole sentences, the way that Sable spoke made Minerva's spine shiver. It sounded both hollow and tense, like metal scraping in a washbasin, but in a tone as low and pervasive as thunder. It was clearly not her natural voice, but Minerva could not explain where it emanated from.

  Minerva reached out to the pick up the letter. It felt as cold as ice when she touched it, and she had to cover her hand with a cloth meant for the teapot.

  This counsel seeks to advise Lady Minerva, cardinal lady of House Arach of the Loftwood, and her lord, of her successful selection from a school of choice candidates. The lady is invited to demonstrate her utmost capacity to this counsel, and its clients.

  Pursuant to the indicated meeting with this counsel, this counsel accepts that the lady may willingly decline this invitation, and asks that the lady consider an offer of amnesty and nondisclosure with this counsel. The terms of this offer are to be adjudicated at any future date by which the lady finds herself in need of this counsel and its agents.

  Sincerely,

  The two things that struck Minerva were how the letter failed to include an addressee, and how it wasn't signed by anyone. The rest of it sounded like a whole mess of words carefully chosen for their meaning, not the order that worked best in a sentence.

  "I'm sorry, Miss Sable, but I do not know what this letter is asking of me. Could you explain it?"

  This counsel, on behalf of which this agent operates, invites you to attend a gathering of candidates selected as prospective agents of this counsel.

  Minerva held her breath as Sable spoke, somewhat wishing that she could breathe for her. "You want to recruit me?"

  Sable nodded.

  "What if I refuse?"

  Then this counsel, by negotiation of this agent, seeks to set forth the terms of a settlement.

  "I understand."

  Truthfully, she didn't understand.

  Sable reached into her darkness and withdrew a second letter, sealed in the same nature as the first. Minerva expected a flying dagger.

  By contractual offer to the Lady Minerva, cardinal lady of House Arach of the Loftwood, in exchange for her continued discretion in the matter of this counsel, its agents, and its practices, this counsel recognizes a favor of indeterminate worth owed to the lady at any future date of her preference.

  As Minerva unrolled the last of the letter, a small bronze coin depicting an uncrowned woman on one side, and a masked face on the other, dangled from a black thread at the bottom. The heads faced forward, rather than sideways, as if looking at the holder. The coin itself dangled from the paper, sewn into the parchment through two holes that perfectly aligned with the eyes of both faces.

  "Above a flame of lesser length, cast a shadow of great strength," Minerva said, reading the inscription on the coin. "You're buying my silence?"

  Sable nodded.

  "What if I refuse? Will you kill me?"

  This agent recognizes a probability in recess of all reasonably assessed risk, pursuant to the premise that this agent could achieve the indicated task. This agent acknowledges no contract that accepts such risk.

  Minerva caught her breath in heavy gasps and swallowed hard. "I understand. You want to recruit me because you think I'm dangerous, and you won't kill me because—" Minerva stumbled on the words in her mind. "—you think I'm dangerous." The weight of the phrase pressed down on her conscience as she contemplated the raw power wielded by Sable.

  Sable reached across the table, taking the coin from Minerva and positioning it over the flame of the lamp. Minerva watched as a shadow consumed the woman's face, only for her image to appear as a smoky haze tumbling upon the ceiling above her.

  This agent recognizes a favor of indeterminate worth owed to the lady Minerva, under the assumption
that the lady accepts the terms of the agreement set forth by this agent, and its counsel.

  Sable's voice echoed hollow and distant throughout the room, dampening Minerva's courage in the meager light.

  Minerva suddenly understood the true power of the fear that Sable controlled. It was the same fear that choked reason from the lost and homeless and ruled the drowsy minds of children. A fear more base and profound than any other, common to every sane man, woman, and child that found themselves lost in the wilds at night.

  The fear of the dark.

  Minerva nodded in acceptance, too afraid to speak.

  Chapter 67

  Departure Recital

  Lord Arach arranged a concert for the day of the Skyraker's departure. The ship lacked complete repairs, but the spawning season neared its end, necessitating an early sailing. Captain Black could be coming for them any day now.

  The amphitheater chosen as a venue for the event afforded Minerva the best seat for the show, not because of its location regarding the stage, but because she sat in the middle of her friends. Most of the crew dressed formally for the event, at least a little, anyway. They donned their best shirts and trousers, as best as could be expected for pirates, except for Gunner and his stubborn insistence on being shamelessly topless. Minerva, however, did not complain.

  The formal gown that Minerva wore was not as fancy as Lord Arach would have liked, but much fancier than any of the crew expected.

  All music was performed by Lord Arach and an accompanying band. The first piece was a rather slow bit of orchestral work, which did little to capture the audience. It reminded Minerva of how sad she truly felt, but she managed to keep herself from crying. Thankfully, the second piece was much livelier, and many of the spectators began to tap their toes or clap along.

  As Lord Arach launched into the third piece, a loud and raucous fanfare, a member of his guard interrupted his performance. The guard whispered a hurried message into Arach's ear, and then Arach mouthed something back. The guard nodded sternly, and Arach turned to the crowd in response.