The forest did not completely cover this particular mountain; several areas were bare brown rock. There were grassy and mossy patches, as well, and brush-covered areas where the slope was too steep or the soil too thin for trees. Gresh scanned these carefully, looking for a cave-mouth, but he saw none.
Chira’s talisman was sparkling and sizzling with spriggans as they circled, and here they were moving in every direction, so that no exact center could be found, no spot from which they all radiated. There were dozens, perhaps hundreds of spriggans in the bushes and trees below. Gresh saw a few running across open country, as well.
It was obvious that some of them did not immediately leave the area once they had emerged from the mirror. Gresh wondered what they found to eat; some of the bushes had apparently been nibbled on, but that would hardly feed the numbers the talisman was reporting. The wizards had assured him that spriggans didn’t need to eat, that they were incapable of starving to death, but they certainly liked to eat and felt hungry when they didn’t. There couldn’t possibly be enough food for the spriggans below unless they were eating tree bark and dry grass, or just dirt.
In fact, the number of spriggans below was rather intimidating. Somehow Gresh had assumed that as soon as they came out of the mirror they all promptly marched off looking for people to annoy, but apparently that was not exactly the case. Karanissa had said there were half a million of the little pests in the World, and Gresh had pictured them being fairly evenly spread over the entirety of it, from Vond to Tintallion, but now he was beginning to wonder whether a significant portion hadn’t stayed right here. Chira’s talisman was glittering as if a wizard had cast some sort of glamour on it.
For the first time it occurred to Gresh that he might not be able to simply walk into the cave and pick up the mirror. If there really were hundreds of spriggans down there, and they wanted to defend it, he might face a real challenge.
Even after a dozen circles he could not see a cave anywhere. He had to conclude that it was under the trees somewhere. He didn’t want to go over the whole mountainside on foot, but it didn’t seem he was going to spot it from the air.
“Land,” he told Tobas.
“Anywhere in particular?” the wizard asked.
“No. Wherever is convenient.”
Tobas nodded and sent the carpet downward, landing it on a relatively level patch of meadow well up the mountain. Spriggans fled squealing as its shadow swept over them, and the carpet came to rest, crushing a few square yards of delicate yellow wildflowers.
Gresh stood up and looked around. Downslope to the east the meadow ended in a rocky outcropping and a sudden drop-off, and below that was a patch of forest—mostly birch and aspen, from what Gresh could see. To the north was a stretch of broken ground and tangled brush. Westward the meadow rose gradually for perhaps fifty yards, then suddenly gave way to steep bare stone jutting upward toward the peak. To the south the meadow dropped away at the shoulder of the mountain, providing a spectacular view of forested hills rolling away into the distance.
Gresh pulled the net from his belt, holding it halfway along the handle, and looked about. He had seen dozens of spriggans as the carpet descended, but they had all apparently taken cover. “Hai!” he called. “Anyone here?”
“They were all over the place a moment ago,” Tobas said.
“They still are,” Gresh said. He had spotted several of the silly creatures, crouching down to blend in with the tall grass, weeds, and flowers. It appeared there was a reason they were green. “Anyone want to talk to me a little?” he called.
“We have fun?” someone ventured warily.
“We might,” Gresh said.
“You put down net?”
“If one of you comes out to talk to me, I’ll put down the net.”
Several squeaky voices whispered to one another; then one spriggan stood up. “Spriggan talk,” it said.
“Good!” Gresh tossed the net onto the carpet, then knelt down in the grass. “Come and talk.”
The spriggan approached cautiously. “You want what?”
“I want to know where the mirror is that you came out of,” Gresh said. “I know it’s in a cave somewhere on this mountain, but I don’t know exactly where. Can you show me?”
The spriggan considered that for a moment, then said, “That not sound like fun.”
“Could you show me anyway?”
“Promise no net?”
“If you show me, I won’t net you. I promise.”
The creature hesitated, clearly thinking hard.
“No tell!” another spriggan called.
“Not think it good idea...”
“I’ll give you candy,” Gresh said, before the spriggan could complete a firm refusal. He reached back and unslung the pack from his shoulder. He had thought he might need to bribe the little pests at some point, and his pack held a pound of honey-drops.
A pound might not be enough for the occasion, though—he glanced around and realized there were hundreds of spriggans surrounding the carpet. They were not bothering to hide very carefully anymore. He had never seen anything remotely close to this many at once before.
“Candy?” the spriggan said brightly.
Several other little green heads popped up here and there.
“First show me where the mirror is.”
“Um. Not sure...”
“Well, whoever shows me gets the candy.” He opened his pack, found the bag of candy, and pulled a golden honey-drop the size of his thumb out of the paper sack. He held it up for the spriggans to see. It occurred to him that a candy that a human could pop in his mouth and suck down to nothing in a couple of minutes would be the size of a whole meal to one of the little creatures.
“Oooooh!”
“Show! Show!”
“I show you!”
Half a dozen eager spriggans jumped out of the tall grass, reaching for the candy he held high above their heads.
“Show me, and I’ll give you the candy,” he called.
“This way! This way!” shouted a dozen spriggans, even as a dozen others tried to shush them. Gresh had trouble keeping track of any individual in the tall grass, but he could plainly see the general movement toward the west, toward the exposed stone of the upper slope. He followed, holding the candy high in one hand, the open pack again slung on his shoulder and held in place with the other hand.
“Gresh?” Tobas called.
“Stay with the carpet,” Gresh told him. “In fact, you might want to get airborne, in case we need to make a quick escape.”
“Yes, of course,” Tobas called. The grass rustled as the carpet rose a foot or so. Gresh did not look back, but kept his attention focused on the spriggans as he followed them toward the rocks.
As he walked he studied the stony slope ahead, but he still did not see a cave mouth; it must, he thought, be hidden somehow. Could someone have cast an illusion spell, perhaps? Spriggans seemed to have some magical abilities, such as their talent at opening locks, but surely they couldn’t have done such a thing. Had some wizard done them a favor, for some reason? If not, then the spriggans had been either very lucky or very clever to have found such a well-concealed refuge. There were a few cracks and crevices in the rocks, but no cave...
Then one of the spriggans hopped up on a rock and thrust its hand into one of the cracks. “Here! Here!” it called. “Cave here!”
Several others quickly joined it, squeaking and pointing. Gresh’s heart sank as he broke into a trot.
He began cursing himself for a fool as he approached the rocks. He had been thinking of the cave as one a grown man could fit in, but that was stupid. Why in the World would spriggans want one that big? They would undoubtedly feel much safer with their precious mirror tucked into a cave a human couldn’t fit in—an opening an eight-inch spriggan could slip through would be just a useless crack to a six-foot man!