The Emperor's Mirror

by Emily Holloway

  “Was she really that awful, or is it just that she was after Emory that bothered you?” Calessa asked curiously.

  Owain shrugged. “I warned her. I told her that he wasn’t someone to be toyed with. She didn’t listen.”

  “So the rumors are true. What was her name?”

  “Jacinta. You won’t find any records of her beyond the record of her suicide.”

  “Thank you,” Calessa said, amazed at how much he was cooperating. She already had more information than she had hoped to receive. She decided to press a new topic. “What other sorts of magic can Emory do?” she asked.

  “You name it, Emory can probably do it,” Owain said.

  “It’s a shame he wasn’t given to the Warders,” Calessa mused. “He might have turned out differently.”

  “I don’t think so,” Owain said thoughtfully. “I think Emory would always be Emory.”

  “For your sake, I wish he was different.”

  “Sometimes I do as well, but . . . something about him . . . I used to think he had enspelled me, wished that he had . . . but no, in the end. It’s just me.” He stared at the fountain. Calessa said nothing. She had momentarily lost interest in the interrogation. Owain seemed to need to talk, to get this out of his system, and she was willing to listen. She was surprised by how much she had come to like him. “I thought . . . after Jacinta . . . that frightened me. And then he was gone, and I missed him so much . . .” Owain stopped, his cheeks pink. He was clearly quite embarrassed.

  “Does he care for you at all?” she asked.

  “Of course he does,” Owain said, seeming startled at the question. “He wouldn’t have let me stay, if he didn’t care for me at all. He lets me stay even though I don’t like what he does. It annoys him when I complain. I tried to stop him from playing with Jacinta, but that didn’t help.”

  “You couldn’t stop him from playing with me, either, but at least you interrupted him.”

  “Things got out of hand with Jacinta. They were not getting out of hand with you.”

  “Oh, yes, they were!” Calessa exclaimed, feeling somewhat indignant.

  “Not by Emory’s standards.”

  “Hmph.” Calessa was not pleased, and it took a moment for what Owain had said to really sink in. She studied his profile for a long moment as he stared at the water. “Are you saying that Emory didn’t mean for the girl to die?”

  “I think it would be more accurate to say that he hadn’t meant for things to get to the point where her death would be necessary. I suppose the spell worked better than he thought it would.” Owain shrugged, and his fists clenched momentarily. “I told her not to fool with him. Sometimes I hate her, which I think probably makes me a horrible person. She was such a silly little thing. I told her not to try anything with him. But she just had to. Wanted the riches, the nobility.”

  “You sound like you knew her, at least passingly.”

  “Of course I did,” Owain said with a thin smile. “She was my cousin. Did my esteemed brother not mention that?”

  “No, he didn’t,” Calessa said, looking at him in more interest. “So that’s why there will be no records of her. Your family swept it all under the rug.”

  “Yes. Mine and Emory’s. It was all covered up quite neatly. The law was involved long enough only to verify that it had been a suicide. No one ever speaks of it. I wonder what your friends threatened Oliver with. Well, Oliver always did talk too much.”

  “We usually don’t have to threaten too much,” Calessa said. She wondered if Oliver had been unsatisfied with the resolution of the case, with the fact that Emory had gotten away with murder, leading him to say more than anyone else would. “As a general rule, people will either give us information voluntarily, or we’ll use a spell to force them to.”

  “I feel quite blessed to have avoided this so far.”

  “Yes, it would most likely slide off you like water off a duck,” Calessa replied. “Care to test it?”

  “If you like,” Owain said, his lips quirking into a smile.

  Calessa muttered the words of the standard Warder truth spell and then touched his forehead. “All right, tell me a lie,” she said.

  “I’m madly in love with you,” Owain said. Somehow, he managed to keep a straight face while saying it, but afterwards both of them burst into laughter.

  “You mean I don’t have a chance?” Calessa asked, pretending to be hurt.

  “I think you’re a very pretty lady,” Owain said. “But I don’t have any interest in women, which I’m sure you had suspected. Of course, you’re hardly the traditional noblewoman – riding horses, shooting arrows, abandoning your womanly duties to become a Warder and with no apparent interest in a husband.”

  “No interest at all,” Calessa admitted. “I don’t like other people trying to run my life. And I have more magical talent than my siblings put together.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me much. Most people can’t fight off Emory’s spells even when he’s not trying very hard, like in the temple. But you were doing pretty well just on your own. You wouldn’t have beaten him, but it’s impressive that you held out as long as you did.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not.”

  “I’d think it would be good to know that he’s not unstoppable, if I were in your shoes.”

  “So far from the way you’re talking, I’m not sure I know anyone who could stop him,” Calessa said. She decided to not mention the fact that she was fairly sure Tallis could stop any force on earth. She had only seen him in action once or twice, but the stories from his training at the academy were practically legend. Calessa liked Owain, but she wasn’t about to let it slip that Tallis was stronger than most people ever dreamed of being.

  “So leave him alone,” Owain said, as if this were the obvious solution.

  Calessa smiled, and said apologetically, “You know we can’t do that.”

  “If you can’t let it go, then you can’t.” Owain shrugged, then half-smiled. “Does it bother you, that I’m not worried about him?”

  “No,” Calessa said. “Clearly, you have enough faith in him that you think he’ll come out unscathed.”

  “Not think, Calessa. I know.”

  “We need to change the subject.”

  “Mm.” Owain nodded. “Bluntness. Another characteristic unflattering for a noblewoman.”

  “I know,” Calessa said with a smile. “Honestly, I think my parents were relieved when I joined the Warders.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Being a Warder? Yes. It gives me all the freedom I want, and something worthwhile to do with my life.”

  “You’re lucky,” Owain said, without a smile.

  * * *

  Tallis bought Brannon a book of fantasy adventure stories in town, as well as a bright orange and white koi with a glass bowl. Sienna seemed to find all this very amusing, but helped him hold it steady while they Gated back to the monastery.

  “Why a koi?” she asked, as Tallis took down the Gate.

  “I don’t know,” Tallis said. “It just struck me that I thought he would like it.”

  They said their good nights and Tallis bounced back into the monastery. It was quite late, but he felt compelled to make a report to the Elder. Despite the horrible mood Edrich had been in ever since Tallis’ triumphant return from Bai Miao, he was genuinely excited about all the progress they had made.

  Brannon was not in his room when he got upstairs, so Tallis headed down the tunnels to the temple. Tallis was pleased to find that it was much warmer than it had been before, and presumed that Elder Edrich had renewed the warming spell. Tallis had put a semi-permanent spell on the fishbowl that would keep the poor thing from getting too cold in the temple.

  When Tallis arrived, Brannon was sitting on the altar, apparently utterly unaware of this sacrilege. He was humming to himself, a pleasant sound that filled the temple, and flipping pages in a book. He looked up as Tallis came in and offered a sleepy hello.
r />   “Hello,” Tallis said with a smile. “What are you reading?”

  “I’m still learning these silly hymns,” Brannon said. “I won’t sing them for the Elder, but I kind of like them. They’re pretty.”

  “Did you want to sing one to me?” Tallis asked, hoping it came out as an offer rather than a request.

  “Not while I’m still learning,” Brannon said. “I’d hit a wrong note and then everything would go all funny. Besides, some of the words are hard to say and I’ll have to ask Brother Ibrahaim to help me with them tomorrow.”

  “You want me to help you?” Tallis asked. “I’m not good at singing, but I could help with the reading.”

  Brannon blinked owlishly at him. “You don’t know these words,” he said.

  “I may. I learned some of the old language from Elder Jaron.”

  “I hardly know any of it. I know how to read it and say the words, but not what they mean.” Brannon’s legs kicked back and forth. “I don’t even know what I’m singing. Isn’t that silly? I could be singing about toasting bread and I wouldn’t even know it.”

  Tallis laughed and took the book of hymns. They spent an enjoyable hour going over different words and meanings, quibbling over how to pronounce them and whether the songs were happy or sad from the little of the lyrics they could decipher. Only when Brannon was yawning too much to continue did Tallis decide to go to bed.

  “Here, I brought you a book,” he said, handing it over. Brannon smiled sleepily and promised he wouldn’t start reading until the morning. “And this,” Tallis added, picking up the bowl from where he had left it on one of the worn mats.

  Brannon’s eyes went wide. “It’s a fish!”

  “Yes, it is,” Tallis said. “It’s a koi. Do you like it?” he asked, and Brannon nodded enthusiastically. “Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to make a light for him,” Tallis added.

  “All right,” Brannon said, and yawned again.

  “For now,” Tallis said, ruffling his hair, “sleepy little princes should be in bed.”

  * * *

  Elder Edrich did not take very kindly to Tallis’ plan to sit and wait a day to see if Calessa could learn anything further at Emory’s temple. He was of the opinion that if they had any evidence whatsoever that Emory was behind the theft, they should tear his temple down around his ears.

  Tallis tried to explain to him that subtlety was often a better tool than force, but gave up after the first try and instead took Brannon outside to teach him the art of kite-flying. Brannon seemed to think that this was all rather funny, although he admitted to being a bit antsy about the chest.

  “What do you think he wants it for?” he asked, squinting into the sun. His eyes were not used to the brightness of being outdoors in daylight, and he had had a horrific headache for a large part of the previous day Tallis had taken him out. He had not mentioned this to Tallis or to the Elder. “Can he use it?” he asked, trying to fit cloth onto the wooden frame that Tallis had made for him.

  “Not as far as I know,” Tallis said, holding the frame steady for him.

  “What’s it for, anyway?” Brannon asked curiously. “I know why the Emperor would have had a sword and a necklace, but why did he have his own special mirror?”

  “He used it to speak to the gods,” Tallis explained.

  There was silence while Brannon seemed to be pondering this. “If he needed some special mirror to talk to the gods,” he said, “why is Elder always telling me that I can go in the temple and talk to them?”

  “When you talk to the gods in the temple, they’re listening to you,” Tallis said. “But they’re not having a conversation with you. And you probably don’t have their undivided attention; they’re gods, after all, and a lot of people still pray to them. The Mirror was a way for the Emperor to speak directly to them and get a direct answer.”

  Brannon considered, kicking his bare feet back and forth, scuffing up little clouds of dirt. “Why?”

  “Why what, little prince?”

  “Why did he need to talk to them directly?”

  “Because the Emperor was watching out for the entire world,” Tallis said. “Sometimes he needed some help.”

  Brannon frowned. “I know the Emperor was real,” he said, a bit reluctantly. “We have his things here and everything. But I still don’t want to believe in the gods, so I’m not sure I think this mirror thing would work. Sounds like magic to me.”

  “Well, of course it’s magic,” Tallis said, biting back a chuckle at Brannon’s knowledgeable tone.

  “But I don’t think he was really talking to the gods,” Brannon said. “I just think that the Emperor was really smart and did everything all on his own, but told people he talked to the gods. That way they’d follow him, because they thought he had divine right.”

  “I suppose you could be right,” Tallis conceded. “But there were a lot of Emperors. I think that without the gods, some of them would have been selfish, or unkind, or not smart enough or brave enough to do the job.”

  Brannon scowled. “The Emperor can’t help me because he’s dead,” he said. “If the gods aren’t dead, why haven’t they ever helped me?”

  “I think it’s very hard for them, since the Emperor is gone,” Tallis said. “But sometimes things work out. Aren’t you happier now than you were a month ago?”

  “Yes.” Brannon made an exasperated face. “But I stopped praying five years ago.”

  “Maybe it took them time to get to you,” Tallis said. “Better late than never, right?”

  “When I came here,” Brannon said, shifting topics abruptly as he fastened the cloth to the frame, “the Elder was a different person. His name was Petrus and he was nice to me. I was really young, but he let me stay upstairs and I could play with the other monks as long as I didn’t break anything. But then he went away, and Elder Edrich came and made me stay in the temple. He’s not nice at all and I don’t like him.”

  “If I were the Emperor,” Brannon said again, “I’d put Petrus in charge of all the monks.” He paused, then added generously, “your friend can help, too.”

  “I don’t think he wants to be in charge of everyone,” Tallis said. “But maybe he can help us find Petrus.”

  “That’d be nice,” Brannon said.

  * * *

  Brannon spent an enjoyable afternoon kite-flying and then ate a large supper, which was much more satisfactory now that the Elder had apparently decided he was allowed to have seconds or even thirds if he was still hungry. He daydreamed his way through the evening services and then curled up in his room to read the book that Tallis had brought him, wondering when the other man would get back.

  “What are you reading?” Edrich’s sharp voice invaded on his privacy.

  “A book,” Brannon replied.

  “Give it here,” the Elder ordered.

  “No,” Brannon said sullenly. “It’s mine, and you can’t have it.”

  Edrich walked over and managed, with some difficulty, to snatch it out of his hands. He leafed through it for a moment or two while Brannon pouted, skimming the short adventure stories it contained. After looking the book over, Edrich’s eyes slowly traveled through the room – over the fish bowl, the ball of light that was hovering in one corner to make for easier reading, to the thick woolen blanket that Sienna had supplied from her packs.

  “Where did you get all these things?” he demanded.

  “They’re mine,” Brannon said, grabbing the book out of the Elder’s hands. “Tallis gave them to me. And I know that old wrinkly priest told you that you had to let him help me, so don’t tell me I can’t keep them.”

  “Young man, the Sheng Yin deserves more of your respect than that,” Edrich thundered. “I was told to allow him to have contact with you and permit reasonable activities. That does not include allowing him to give you unnecessary items. How is that light staying there?”

  Brannon bit his lip, knowing that Edrich would be even more angry if he admitted that he had made the light hi
mself, after a few minutes of tutoring from Sienna, who had met them outside for some magic lessons, a welcome reprieve from her continued efforts to track the chest. “It’s magic.”

  “Don’t speak to me that way, you insolent little brat,” Edrich said. “I know very well that it’s magic. Who did it?”

  “Warder Tallis. He said it would stay that way until I was ready to go to sleep and then it would go out.”

  “And how, pray tell,” Edrich’s voice rained sarcasm, “is a glowing ball of light going to know when it’s your bedtime?”

  “I don’t know,” Brannon said. “It’s magic. I didn’t ask and Tallis didn’t tell me.”

  Edrich cleared his throat. “Regardless,” he said, “you are not allowed to have anything you’d like in here. Despite what you may think, you are still my charge. Give me that fish and that book. I’ll return them to Warder Tallis when he gets back tonight.”

  “Why?” Brannon asked. “So he can give them back to me when we leave in a few days?”

  “You are not going anywhere!”

  “Yes, I am!” Brannon yelled. “I’m going to go be a Warder and you can’t stop me! Tallis told me all about it. He said that Warder law supersedes church law and even if you or the old priest or anyone else said no that he’d still take me! So leave me alone and, and don’t take my fish! It’s mine! He gave it to me!”

  “We’ll see about that,” Edrich said. He took hold of Brannon by one ear and dragged him to his feet, despite his yelping protests. Without another word, he pulled Brannon out of the temple and up through the tunnels, into the regular monastery and into the small shrine on the second floor. “Now,” he said, breathing hard with the exertion of hauling Brannon all that way, “you will sit and be composed and meditate on your transgressions.”

  Brannon said a rude word that he had heard Sienna say under her breath the day before.

  Edrich turned an interesting shade of pink, and shoved him onto a mat. “Stay here,” he snarled. “If I find that you’ve moved one inch before dawn, I don’t care what the Sheng Yin says, I’ll take your fish and your book and keep you here until those Warders are gone.”