The Spriggan Mirror. Lawrence Watt-Evans
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was, at least potentially, a problem—and an opportunity.
He made an excellent living supplying wizards with the ingredients for their spells; he had been doing it since boyhood. He had started out running errands for his older sisters—mostly Dina, since wizards used so many odd ingredients in their spells, but also occasionally Tira and Chira and Shesta. Witches used herbs and other tools; sorcerers sometimes wanted particular metals or gems for their talismans and were always looking for leftover bits of old sorcery; and demonologists sometimes needed specific things to pay demons for their services. His business was never entirely for wizards, but wizards certainly made up the bulk of his business.
He had started with his sisters, but then he had begun to fetch things for their friends, and then friends of friends, and then people with no connection he knew of who had heard his name somewhere. Word had spread; by the time he finished his apprenticeship and opened his own shop, he had developed a reputation for being fast, efficient, honest, and discreet.
He had also developed a reputation for being able to get anything, given time.
This reputation let him charge high prices—higher, in fact, than any other supplier in the city. Even so, he had never lacked for business. There were always people willing to pay more for the best.
The problem was that he had to stay the best. He had to maintain his reputation as the man who could get anything a wizard needed. He could never admit that there was something he couldn’t find, or couldn’t obtain once it was found.
So far, no such admission had been necessary; sooner or later he had gotten everything he went after, or else had been able to give good, sound reasons why he would not seek certain things. As he explained to anyone who asked: he would not kill or maim anyone to obtain an item; he would not violate Wizards’ Guild rules, and he tried to obey the overlords’ laws; and some of the things people had attempted to buy simply didn’t exist.
Or at least, he said they didn’t exist, and no one had ever proved him wrong.
This spriggan mirror, though, apparently did exist. If Karanissa was telling the truth, she knew it existed. Fetching it would not break any Guild rules; in fact, the Guild wanted it found. He wouldn’t be stealing it, or breaking any other laws so far as he could see, and he could see no reason anyone would be killed or maimed if he acquired it. By his own rules, therefore, he should have no objection to going after it. Unless he could find a new and convincing excuse, refusing the task would severely damage his reputation.
Finding it, of course, would enhance his reputation. If he could become known as the man who eliminated the nuisance of the spriggans once and for all, he could crank his prices up even higher. He would be a minor hero throughout the Hegemony.
The problem was that if he agreed to get it and failed to do so, his reputation would be not merely damaged, but ruined—and he had no idea how to find the thing! By Karanissa’s account, most of his usual methods would not work.
Of course, no one outside the family knew what his usual methods were—and he liked it that way. Keeping his trade secrets secret added to his aura of mystery and kept the competition down.
“Will you get it for us?” Karanissa asked, interrupting his train of thought.
He really had no choice. “Of course,” he said. “But it may take some time, and it will be very expensive.”
“The Guild has agreed to cover the cost,” she replied. “We will pay any price.”
Gresh blinked at that. Any price?
He had thought he might scare her away; given his reputation for charging high prices, he had thought that when he said “very expensive” she might reconsider and save him the trouble of actually finding the mirror. But the Guild would pay?
When the Wizards’ Guild said “any price,” that meant rather more than when anyone else said it. The Wizards’ Guild had entire worlds at their disposal.
But of course, the witch might not have meant it literally. She could not be a member of the Guild herself and might have misinterpreted what the Guildmasters had actually said. There might be limitations of which she was unaware.
Still, to have access to the Guild’s own coffers—he would be rich! Really rich, not just as well off as he was now. Or perhaps he might be paid with more than money…
That assumed, of course, that Karanissa was telling the truth. Twilfa had not yet returned with Tira, so he had no way of verifying the story.
It also assumed he could indeed retrieve the missing mirror, but he had confidence in his own abilities—far more confidence than he had in Karanissa’s account of herself.
He considered trying to stall Karanissa, by asking her questions until Tira arrived—after all, he would need more information from her before setting out to find this mirror—but he decided against it. This was probably not going to be a quick and easy errand. He would undoubtedly talk to her a good many times, with and without Tira.
He would probably need to talk to her husband, as well, but first he wanted to do a little preliminary planning.
“It will take me some time to make preparations,” he said. “I will need to speak with your husband and to do some research.”
“Of course,” Karanissa said. “Whatever is necessary.” She rose.
“Bring your husband and his other wife here this afternoon, and we will settle the details,” Gresh said, rising as well.
She bowed an acknowledgment.
He showed her to the door, then stood in the doorway watching her walk away down the street toward Eastgate Market.
She was a handsome woman, no question about it, and if her story was true, she was a woman with an incredible history. The task she had set him was going to be a challenge—stupendously profitable, he hoped—but a challenge.
In fact, he had no idea at all, as yet, of how he would do it.
That did not worry him. He would find a way. Various possibilities were already stirring in the back of his mind.
CHAPTER THREE
Gresh sat at his kitchen table across from Twilfa and Tira, stroking his short-trimmed beard. “She said they’d tried wizardry, theurgy, demonology, warlockry, science, and ritual dance. She didn’t mention witchcraft, but since she’s a witch herself I think we can take that for granted.”
“Then why did you want me here?” Tira asked.
“To see whether she was telling the truth,” Gresh replied. “Whether she’s really a witch and really as old as she claims.”
“But you let her go!”
“She’ll be back this afternoon.”
“You want me to stay here all day? Gresh, Dar and I have our own customers to attend to.”
Gresh sighed. “Are any of them coming today?”
“I’m not going to tell you my entire schedule.”
“I won’t keep you, then, but can you please come by this afternoon? Naturally, I will pay you for your time.”
Tira frowned.
“Tira, I’m sorry I dragged you over here for nothing, but I didn’t know how the conversation was going to go, and this way you’ll know what I want when you come back, and I won’t need to try to signal you surreptitiously. And you can tell me if you’ve ever heard of this Karanissa of the Mountains, or her husband Tobas of Telven, or a mirror that makes spriggans.”
Tira considered that for a moment, then relented. “Fine, I’ll be here this afternoon and will tell you whether they’re lying,” she said. “And I never heard of Karanissa or Tobas, but didn’t you say they were from the Small Kingdoms? I don’t know anyone there. The Sisterhood doesn’t operate openly there.”
“Thank