Gresh nodded. “Very sensible,” he said. “Then you want us to turn you human? Or rather, try the spell that we think will turn you human?”
“You aren’t sure?”
“I’m afraid not. But we both really do think it will work.”
“Then I’ll try it.”
Gresh smiled reassuringly. “I’ll go fetch the powder.” He turned and left the room, bound for the stairs.
Just outside the bedroom door he almost tripped over a spriggan, but caught himself against the wall of the passage. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“Heard voices,” the spriggan said. “Came to see whether voices were bad mirror thieves trying to sneak up on us.”
“There aren’t any mirror thieves around here,” Gresh said, annoyed. “That’s why we brought it here, so it would be safe.”
“Yes, yes. Sorry sorry.” The spriggan scampered back toward the stairs. Gresh watched it bound up a few steps, then pause to catch its breath. Gresh decided not to waste any more time on it. He marched down the passage and down the stairs to the sitting room, then crossed to the corner where he had left his pack.
He considered hauling the whole thing upstairs, but he was afraid that if he did, Tobas and Karanissa might get caught up in the excitement and start throwing spells around, wasting the powders. He had gotten a little carried away himself out on the mountain. It was the first time he’d ever had so much magic right there in his own hands, and he’d been perhaps a bit careless with his powders, but he was calmed down now and didn’t see any need to put needless temptation in anyone’s path.
He thought he understood now why wizards didn’t ordinarily keep many spells around in powder form. It was too easy to use them. The temptation to just fling a powder and say a word was much stronger than Gresh had imagined. Working a spell from scratch every time meant that a wizard had to think about what he was doing, instead of acting on impulse. Gresh knew he had been lucky that none of his enchantments had ended in disaster, and he did not want to push his luck too far. He intended to take the remaining powders and potions back to Ethshar with him and, if the Guild did not reclaim them, sell them for a healthy price. He did not care to let anyone else experiment with them, trying them all out to see what they might do to the reflected Karanissa, or to spriggans.
So he did not bring the whole box. Instead he opened the pack, pulled out the box, and found the jar of white powder, still mostly full—he had used only one pinch from this one so far, less than any of the others. He pulled it out, pushed the pack back in the corner with his foot, and then headed back up to the bedroom. He heard the spriggans squeaking somewhere above him as he climbed the stairs, but ignored them as he marched back up the passage.
He did wonder idly how much damage they were doing to Tobas’s laboratory, but did not let it concern him.
Tobas and the two Karanissas were waiting in the bedroom; the two women were seated side-by-side on the edge of the bed, the wizard standing before them. For a moment Gresh was uncertain which woman was which, but then he got close enough to see the height difference.
“Are you ready?” he asked, opening the jar. “You’ll have about half an hour to decide which sort of existence you prefer. If you wait any longer than that the Spell of Reversal won’t change you back, and we don’t know whether Javan’s Restorative will work.”
“It ought to,” Tobas said.
“I’m ready,” the image said. The original Karanissa moved down the bed, farther away from her duplicate, to make room.
Gresh flung a generous pinch of white powder at the smaller Karanissa and proclaimed, “Esku!!”
There was a blinding silver flash; Gresh blinked, trying to clear his vision. When he did he saw two identical Karanissas sitting on the bed—truly identical; the size difference had vanished.
So had all differences between their facial expressions and even their position. Both were sitting bolt upright, staring at their own hands. Both spoke in perfect unison, saying, “By all the gods, Gresh—what have you done?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I don’t understand,” Gresh said, looking from one woman to the other. “What happened?”
Both of them looked at him, which was oddly reassuring, because at least it meant they were no longer in exactly the same position. “Don’t you see?” they said, still speaking in unison. “It turned the reflection into what it was meant to be—but it wasn’t just meant to be human, it was meant to be me!”
“What?”
“We’re both me!” they insisted. “I have two bodies, but they’re both me! I can still remember everything from the moment I emerged from the mirror—we can both remember it—but we’re both Karanissa!”
“Gresh, I think we better undo this,” Tobas said.
The two women turned to look at one another, moving in perfect synchronization. “Oh, how strange!” they said, as they stared at one another. “Yes, I think we should reverse this!”
Gresh stared, fascinated. “But this is... Shouldn’t we... What is it like?”
Karanissa—both of her—looked at him. “It’s very hard to describe,” they said. “When I used witchcraft to hear people’s thoughts it was... Well, no, it wasn’t anything like this, really, because there isn’t anyone else, there’s just me, but I’m in two places at once.”
“Do you see things double, then?”
“No, no—I just see more.”
“Gresh, I don’t think this is the time...” Tobas began.
Gresh turned. “It’s exactly the time,” he said. “We have half an hour before we need to reverse the spell, so why not try to learn more about it while we can?”
“Because we might lose track of time. Could you at least go get the powder for the Spell of Reversal and keep it ready?”
“I think that would be a good idea,” the Karanissas said, turning to look at one another again. “I really don’t think I want to stay like this indefinitely.”
Reluctantly, Gresh acknowledged the wisdom of this. “I’ll go get it, then—and meanwhile, Karanissa, could you please take note of anything particularly interesting?”
As the two women stared at each other they made an odd noise that Gresh took for agreement. He turned and headed for the stairs.
Something green peeked up over the steps, then squeaked and scampered down. That spriggan was clearly bored with watching the mirror do nothing, Gresh thought, as he reached the head of the staircase and started down.
At the foot of the stairs he turned toward the corner, then froze in horror.
He had shoved his pack into the corner by the door to the platform, but he had not bothered to fasten it. Now he found himself looking at all four spriggans, each of them holding one of the jars of magical powder—two in the sitting room, one on the sill of the open door to the platform, one on the platform itself.
Even as he stared, readying an angry shout, he mentally cursed his own stupidity. He knew spriggans were attracted to magic; he knew the spriggans were getting bored guarding the mirror; he knew they had been told not to touch anything in the workshop. No one had said anything about not touching the contents of the sitting room.
“Put those down!” he bellowed.
All four spriggans immediately dropped their jars.
The two jars in the sitting room landed with a slight thump, undamaged.
The one on the doorsill flew up out of the startled spriggan’s hands, came down hard on the stone, and cracked.
The one on the platform was not so much dropped as flung sideways; it landed rolling, and both Gresh and the spriggan watched in helpless dismay as it kept on rolling, right off the edge of the platform. As the label and clear glass alternated Gresh could see dark powder inside, but he could not be completely certain whether it was blue, purple, or dark red.