moment then jerked the altar-cloth off the mirror, revealing
a large, flawless piece of glass surrounded by a thick gilt frame.
‘Well?’ he demanded. In the mirror he could see himself and little else. He angled it to see behind him and the knights hadn’t moved from their positions.
‘She’s there,’ Sallin assured him.
Daken was about to turn away when, in the reflection, a head peeked around the archway between him and the two knights. He whirled around and saw nothing, but in the reflection the head
hadn’t moved. It was hard to make out in the weak light, but he could see it was indeed a girl, in the first flourishes of beauty. Her dark hair hung loose about her shoulders and her dress
seemed to be composed of dozens of coloured scarves all woven together.
‘Well bugger me sideways,’ Daken breathed.
‘So you see,’ Sallin announced, ‘this is no simple kidnapping – nor are we the villains of this piece. Now, if you would be so kind, please take your axe away from the
mirror and let us be about our task.’
‘Eh? Why? I was sent here to free the bitch, not worry about what happens to you after.’
He took hold of the top of the mirror and lifted it off the altar, but when he tried to carry it away from the altar it was as though a steel-cord was attached to the back. Try as he might he
couldn’t drag the mirror more than a yard from the altar, despite his prodigious strength.
‘Look up,’ said the younger knight, smirking.
Daken did so and discovered symbols painted onto the top of the altar room, a magical ward of some sort.
‘That’s right; you’re not taking her anywhere.’
Daken paused, the familiar growl of anger in his stomach intensifying. ‘Fine,’ he said eventually, ‘if that’s how you want it – fuck the lot o’
you.’
He set the mirror on the ground, leaning against the altar, and straightened up. The older man relaxed visibly, but then Daken swung his axe down through the centre of the mirror and shattered
it.
‘No!’ both knights cried together, but the mirror had imploded under the blow and a thousand shards of glass dropped to the floor. ‘What have you done, you fool?’
‘Freed her,’ Daken said simply, his turn to smirk now. ‘That was my job, remember?’
‘But?’ The older man drew his sword and turned in a circle, as though expecting an attack from behind. ‘Where is she?’
Daken moved forward, clear of the archways and the men backed off. He saw four in the hall and more lingering in a doorway ahead. Each one had their weapons drawn now but none seemed to be
focused on him.
‘What’s happened?’ howled someone from down the corridor behind the newcomers. ‘What have you done?’
‘The mirror’s been broken,’ Sallin said briskly, sounding now like a commander giving orders. ‘What does it mean, Parain?’
The man, clearly a mage, forced his way out past the soldiers and into the hall. ‘Mean? It means she’s bloody free!’ He pointed at Daken. ‘Who in Ghenna’s name is
that?’
‘Someone who don’t like bein’ pointed at,’ Daken snarled.
‘Never mind him,’ Sallin demanded, sounded increasingly worried now, ‘define “free” – she’s not here with us, why hasn’t she appeared.’
Parain looked around wildly for a moment then composed himself. ‘I, ah, the wardings, that’s why. Nothing can incarnate within the grounds, her spirit is here but she’ll be
without form and vulnerable still.’ He brightened. ‘We can still do the ceremony! If we can trap her again, that is – we need to find where her spirit’s gone.’
‘Where could it go? Another mirror? I’ve not seen many here.’
‘Or into a person, she could possess their body still.’
Sallin turned slowly towards Daken. ‘But we’ve all been warded against her touch. She only has one option there.’
‘What the fuck are you all on about?’
Sallin started to chuckle. ‘Take off your coat!’
‘What?’
‘Take your coat
a large, flawless piece of glass surrounded by a thick gilt frame.
‘Well?’ he demanded. In the mirror he could see himself and little else. He angled it to see behind him and the knights hadn’t moved from their positions.
‘She’s there,’ Sallin assured him.
Daken was about to turn away when, in the reflection, a head peeked around the archway between him and the two knights. He whirled around and saw nothing, but in the reflection the head
hadn’t moved. It was hard to make out in the weak light, but he could see it was indeed a girl, in the first flourishes of beauty. Her dark hair hung loose about her shoulders and her dress
seemed to be composed of dozens of coloured scarves all woven together.
‘Well bugger me sideways,’ Daken breathed.
‘So you see,’ Sallin announced, ‘this is no simple kidnapping – nor are we the villains of this piece. Now, if you would be so kind, please take your axe away from the
mirror and let us be about our task.’
‘Eh? Why? I was sent here to free the bitch, not worry about what happens to you after.’
He took hold of the top of the mirror and lifted it off the altar, but when he tried to carry it away from the altar it was as though a steel-cord was attached to the back. Try as he might he
couldn’t drag the mirror more than a yard from the altar, despite his prodigious strength.
‘Look up,’ said the younger knight, smirking.
Daken did so and discovered symbols painted onto the top of the altar room, a magical ward of some sort.
‘That’s right; you’re not taking her anywhere.’
Daken paused, the familiar growl of anger in his stomach intensifying. ‘Fine,’ he said eventually, ‘if that’s how you want it – fuck the lot o’
you.’
He set the mirror on the ground, leaning against the altar, and straightened up. The older man relaxed visibly, but then Daken swung his axe down through the centre of the mirror and shattered
it.
‘No!’ both knights cried together, but the mirror had imploded under the blow and a thousand shards of glass dropped to the floor. ‘What have you done, you fool?’
‘Freed her,’ Daken said simply, his turn to smirk now. ‘That was my job, remember?’
‘But?’ The older man drew his sword and turned in a circle, as though expecting an attack from behind. ‘Where is she?’
Daken moved forward, clear of the archways and the men backed off. He saw four in the hall and more lingering in a doorway ahead. Each one had their weapons drawn now but none seemed to be
focused on him.
‘What’s happened?’ howled someone from down the corridor behind the newcomers. ‘What have you done?’
‘The mirror’s been broken,’ Sallin said briskly, sounding now like a commander giving orders. ‘What does it mean, Parain?’
The man, clearly a mage, forced his way out past the soldiers and into the hall. ‘Mean? It means she’s bloody free!’ He pointed at Daken. ‘Who in Ghenna’s name is
that?’
‘Someone who don’t like bein’ pointed at,’ Daken snarled.
‘Never mind him,’ Sallin demanded, sounded increasingly worried now, ‘define “free” – she’s not here with us, why hasn’t she appeared.’
Parain looked around wildly for a moment then composed himself. ‘I, ah, the wardings, that’s why. Nothing can incarnate within the grounds, her spirit is here but she’ll be
without form and vulnerable still.’ He brightened. ‘We can still do the ceremony! If we can trap her again, that is – we need to find where her spirit’s gone.’
‘Where could it go? Another mirror? I’ve not seen many here.’
‘Or into a person, she could possess their body still.’
Sallin turned slowly towards Daken. ‘But we’ve all been warded against her touch. She only has one option there.’
‘What the fuck are you all on about?’
Sallin started to chuckle. ‘Take off your coat!’
‘What?’
‘Take your coat
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