The Mirror of Her Dreams by Stephen Donaldson Read Free Book Online Page A

turned his head-'Master Gilbur'- again, he faced Eremis, Terisa, and the mirror-'you know I'm only an Apt, and you laugh because I make a lot of mistakes. But you haven't thought about what she means.' He made an open-handed gesture towards Terisa. 'Why is she here? How did she get here?
     
    'Master Gilbur, you taught me how to shape that mirror. It's exactly like the one you made. You know they're exactly alike because what you see in this mirror is the same as what your mirror shows. They're the same.
     
    'Master Eremis, have you ever heard of a mirror that could translate things it didn't show?'
     
    This question took several of the Masters aback. Gilbur scowled like the clenching of a fist; Eremis' mouth twisted thoughtfully; Barsonage raised his eyebrows so far that they appeared to grow back over his skull. A small man with a face like a rabbit's nodded vigorously.
     
    Now Geraden was speaking to all the Imagers at once. The greatest Masters we know of have never been able to make mirrors that show one thing and translate another. Adept Have-lock in his prime couldn't do it. Even the stories about arch-Imager Vagel don't mention any power as strong as that.
     
    Think about it, Masters. Either I've stumbled by accident onto the greatest achievement in the history of Imagery. Or I'm already the greatest Master since the first mirror was shaped.' Abruptly, he stopped, fixing his gaze squarely on Eremis.
     
    'Or what, Apt?' Master Gilbur growled. 'Surely you do not expect us to stomach either of those alternatives?'
     
    'Or,' Geraden said slowly, still holding Eremis' eyes, 'another power intervened. Maybe it was the same power that shaped the augury. It took me to a place I could not have reached with that mirror. A place where I could find the champion the augury intended instead of the one you chose.'
     
    He was nearly whispering, and his brown eyes shone intently. 'She's the one I should have been sent to bring back. She's the one who can save us.'
     
    For an instant, all the Congery stared in silence at Geraden and his assertion. Then the rabbity Master announced in a high, thin voice, 'I said so. I have said so from the beginning. This proves it. They are real.'
     
    'Oh, forsooth,' retorted Gilbur trenchantly. The Apt speaks cleverly, but he defies reason. She our augured saviour? She the power to rescue us from Imagery gone mad? Look at her, Masters. What are her powers? How will she fight in our defence? In what way is she superior to the champion we have chosen?'
     
    As he spoke, he aimed a thick forefinger at the glass behind Terisa.
     
    Several of the men shifted their attention there. Even Master Eremis turned and gave the mirror a glance.
     
    Involuntarily, Terisa obeyed Gilbur's pointing.
     
    Her first impression was confirmed: the mirror didn't reflect anything which she could see here-or which she had ever seen.
     
    The tinted and faintly rippled glass showed a scene distant enough to be quite large, but not distant enough to weaken its primary figures. In the middle ground of a stark and alien landscape lit by the scarlet glow of an old, red sun stood a metallic shape which her mind instantly labelled a 'spaceship'. Forming a defensive perimeter around the ship were a number of manlike forms, also metallic: a moment passed before she realized that they actually were men, men in armour. They were under attack; but the destructive beams which chewed pieces off the landscape only glanced from the helmets and chestplates of the defenders. She couldn't see the effect of the fire they returned, but it must have been adequate: they weren't driven back towards their ship.
     
    The central figure of the scene, however, wasn't the ship or one of the fighters. Rather, it was another metal-clad individual who occasionally waved his arms or shifted his attention as though he were directing the battle. He was heavily armed: strange weapons hung on his hips, and strapped to his back was a rifle the size of a