“Tobas!” Alorria shouted. “I asked you a question!”
“A spell went wrong,” Gresh said, as he closed the pack and set it on the floor. “We’re trying to fix it, but the spriggans have been making it difficult.”
“What kind of a spell?”
“Fifth-order,” Gresh said unhelpfully, as he opened the jar.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” the Karanissas said, eyeing Gresh as he approached, orange powder in the palm of his hand.
“I’m not, either,” Tobas said. “Gresh, I know what I said earlier, but I’ve changed my mind.”
“We have to do something,” Gresh said. “What kind of a life can she have like that?”
“How can you tell which one is which?” Alorria asked.
Gresh had been about to fling the powder at the Karanissa on the right, on the assumption that she was the rectified reflection and the spell would restore her to either her former state as a solidified image, or to nonexistence, but he suddenly stopped.
“She might just disappear,” Tobas said. “That would be murder.”
“She might,” Gresh agreed, staring at the right-hand Karanissa.
“She isn’t real!” Alorria protested.
“This one is the copy, isn’t it?” Gresh asked, gesturing at the right-hand woman.
“Yes, it is,” Tobas said. “They didn’t switch while you were away. But really, Gresh, shouldn’t we…”
He stopped as Gresh flung the powder-on the left-hand Karanissa.
“It can’t hurt her,” he explained. “Esku!”
There was a golden flash.
For a moment, no one moved; then the two Karanissas turned to look at one another, but Gresh could see that it wasn’t the same inhumanly synchronized motion they had displayed before. Both were still full-sized, however; the right-hand one had not been shrunk back to her original size.
“That was…” they both began-but their voices were not perfectly matched anymore. They both fell silent; then the right-hand one pointed at the other.
“I think it worked,” the left-hand Karanissa said.
“I’m still rectified, still human,” the right-hand one said. “But we’re separate.”
“I’m just me again,” the left-hand one-the original-said. “I don’t have her memories anymore.”
“But I still have hers,” the right-hand one said. She frowned. “I suppose that means she’s Karanissa and I’m…someone else, a blend of the two.”
“Fine,” Alorria said. “Then you can go back to Ethshar with Gresh. One witch-wife around here is plenty!”
“But I remember-I was married to you,” the right-hand witch said to Tobas. “I’m your wife.”
“Oh, no,” Tobas said. “No, you aren’t. Two wives are plenty. I’m married to her, and her, and nobody else.” He pointed first at Karanissa, then at Alorria.
The nameless woman looked at Karanissa for a moment, and Gresh was certain that even if they were no longer the same person in two bodies, they were still both witches capable of communicating silently. He wondered what was passing between them.
“You need a name,” he said, before Tobas or Alorria could say anything more. “Any suggestions?”
“You could call yourself Assinarak,” Alorria suggested. “That’s the mirror image of ‘Karanissa.’”
“That’s not a name!” Tobas protested.
Gresh caught himself just before he said “Not to mention stupid and ugly” aloud; there was no need to antagonize the king’s daughter.
“And I’m not just a mirror image any more,” the nameless woman protested. “I intend to be my own woman, not just a copy. No, I’ll call myself Esmera.”
“I like that,” Karanissa said. “But then, I would.”
Gresh smiled. He recognized the roots of the name-it was a sort of pun and could mean either “from glass” or “a marvel” in Old Ethsharitic, which seemed very appropriate. “Esmera it is, then. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I take it you’re satisfied with your current condition and don’t want Tobas and I to attempt any further magic?”
“Yes, this is fine-there’s much more to me now than there was before. I can feel what Kara meant about my not being whole before.”
Karanissa smiled at that, and in fact the whole party was now smiling happily at one another-except Alorria.
“Now that you have a name, Esmera, could you please do something so that I can tell you apart from my husband’s other wife?” she demanded. “We’ll need to find you a place to sleep tonight-I’ll talk to the chamberlain. And of course, you will go to Ethshar with Gresh, won’t you? It would be much too confusing having you around here. I don’t think my parents would like it.”
Esmera glanced at Tobas, then at Karanissa, then at Gresh. She turned up an empty palm. “All right,” she said. “I could put my hair up, I suppose.”
“That would do nicely,” Alorria acknowledged.
Esmera started to say something to Karanissa, but before she could say a word Karanissa said, “You can use my things, of course-you know where the combs and ribbons are.”
“Thank you.” Esmera rose, said, “Excuse me, Ali,” to Alorria, then slipped past her and out the door.
“You call me Alorria!” Alorria called after her. Then she turned and started toward the door, clearly intending to pursue Esmera.
“Ali,” Tobas asked. “Where’s Alris?”
Alorria paused. “With my parents and Peren and Tinira,” she said. Her anger vanished, and she looked down at her hands, looking suddenly shyer and more appealing than Gresh had ever seen her. “I was hoping we might have a little time together, just the two of us. It’s been… well, a while. There’s the baby, and we were traveling, and everything. I let you and Kara have the tapestry castle to yourselves in Ethshar of the Sands, and I wanted a turn, but you were all here casting spells…”
“Oh.” Tobas blushed. He glanced at Gresh and Karanissa.
“I’ll go see if I can help Esmera with her hair,” Karanissa said.
“Ali, I need to talk to Gresh for just a moment, but if you could wait for me, I’ll be right there.”
Alorria watched Karanissa leave the room, then looked back at Gresh and Tobas. “Don’t be long,” she said. Then she, too departed, leaving the two men in the room.
For a moment neither spoke. Then Tobas said, “You and I are leaving for Ethshar first thing in the morning, and we’re taking what’s-her-name, Esmera, with us, and not my wives, and you are going to be sure to never leave Esmera and me alone together for an instant and be ready to swear to that if Ali ever asks. Having the three of them in one place is much too complicated.”
Gresh understood perfectly, but could not resist asking, “What do you expect Esmera to do with herself in Ethshar?”
“Anything she pleases. She’s a grown woman, a witch, with four hundred years of memories, even if they aren’t really her memories. She can take care of herself.”
“I think it would be fair to provide her with a small sum of money-traveling money.”
“That seems reasonable. If you insist, I’ll do that, but you could equally well give it to her from that down-payment you got and charge it to the Guild as an expense.”
“So I could; I’ll do that.”
“Thank you. We don’t have a great deal of cash on hand.”
“Will you be bringing the mirror with you?” Gresh asked.
Tobas hesitated, then said, “No, I don’t think I will. Either Telurinon or Kaligir would probably want me to give it to him, and thanks to your spell, I can’t. Better I leave it here, so that the issue won’t come up right away, and we’ll have time to explain the situation.”
Gresh nodded. “A wise choice, and one I was going to suggest. You do realize, though, that the geas won’t do anything to stop anyone from taking the mirror from you? You’re only forbidden to give it. You aren’t required to keep it, or retrieve it if it’s lost.”