The Devil's armour

19

Meriel had never gotten used to the desert. In all her time in Grimhold, she had feared it. The desert was a place of endless quiet, where a single thought could echo forever in a person’s mind. For Meriel, there was a thought that rattled endlessly around her brain. She was alone in Grimhold and lonely, and longed to escape the peace of the place, to return into the normal human world where the day-to-day scratch for survival would make her forget her many demons.

Meriel watched the desert from her private place on the outcrop of rock. The sands were always shifting but never seemed to bring change. Alone and covered in the garments that hid her face and hands, Meriel waited patiently. Today was not just a day like any other. Today Minikin would return. The little mistress had been gone from Grimhold for more than a week. It was said among the Inhumans that she had gone to train Gilwyn Toms in the use of his Akari, and there was great excitement among her peers about this, for all of them knew and adored Gilwyn Toms and wanted him to be be truly one of them at last. White-Eye, the kahana, had spoken of little else of late, and though Meriel mostly shunned the kahana she could not help but hear the news. Like herself, White-Eye waited for Minikin to return. Gilwyn Toms had been gone from Grimhold for months now, busy with the work of the city’s reconstruction. Meriel pitied the blind kahana. She knew too well what it meant to love a man and yet have him kept away.

Lukien, too, was gone from Grimhold. Like Minikin, he had gone to Jador. Prince Aztar’s raiders continued to harass the Seekers coming across the desert and Lukien was needed there, certainly more than he was in Grimhold. Meriel missed him. She missed his kindness and the way he insisted she show her face around him, as though her hideous burns meant nothing. Not even Baron Glass was so kind to her, though he was a trusted friend and had confessed his own love for her. Lately Thorin had little time for her, and Meriel was grateful for that. She had not wanted to hurt Thorin or rebuke his love. But he was quiet now and had not come to her in many days, not since returning himself from Jador. Meriel wondered what bad news had befallen the baron. In Jador he had met with the Liirian Seekers and had been surly ever since.

He broods, thought Meriel. He wants to return to the world.

They had that much in common, at least. But Thorin was old. A good man, certainly, but he could have been a grandfather.

Meriel cleared her mind with a deep breath. It made no sense to worry about Thorin now. She had made a decision, and if Minikin granted her request she would not need Thorin.

Out on the rock the heat of the sun roasted her. She called on Sarlvarian to ease the pain, but the Akari ignored her. He was there, inside her, like a tremor beneath her consciousness, but he no longer rose to speak or comfort her. She had hurt him. She had not been able to keep her plans from him, for they were one in the way that Inhumans and Akari always become one. She had no secrets from Sarlvarian.

She would miss him.

She waited. Ignoring the heat of the day, she continued her vigil on the rock, waiting for the first evidence of Minikin’s arrival. Hunger began to tug at her but she ignored it. Afternoon slipped nearly into evening, and she began to give up hope. She rose and stretched, disappointed, at last preparing to leave when finally she saw the figures on the horizon. A small group of kreel made their way through the canyon, following the secret way toward Grimhold. Meriel’s heart leapt, for she knew that Minikin had returned. Excited, she turned to hurry away from the rock, but the magnitude of her request made her pause. She turned and looked back out over the desert. Past the crags she saw the speck that was Minikin and wondered what the Mistress of Grimhold would say to her request.

‘I will beg if I must,’ Meriel resolved. ‘But I will not let her refuse me.’

Whenever Minikin returned to Grimhold she went first to visit White-Eye. It was no secret among the Inhumans that the blind girl was like a daughter to Minikin. Her father Kadar, who had been Kahan of Jador before his death in battle a year ago, had been a lifelong friend of Minikin’s, as well as a benefactor and protector of Grimhold. Because of the protective darkness of the keep Kadar had sent his light-sensitive child to live with Minikin in Grimhold when she was but an infant, and Minikin had mothered the girl as if she were her own.

Meriel had never been jealous of White-Eye’s relationship with Minikin. The Mistress of Grimhold had tried mightily to treat her like a daughter too, but she had failed because Meriel had mostly spurned her affection. Meriel realised that and so did not fret when Minikin spent time with White-Eye, as she did tonight. Instead Meriel waited patiently for the mistress to finish her audience with the kahana, to tell her all about her lover Gilwyn and the status of things in Jador and to gossip about simpler things, the way friends do. Meriel stalked the halls of Grimhold, keeping her cowl wrapped around her face and avoiding the other Inhumans. She did not dine when the dinner hour came, for she was afraid of seeing Thorin. Her own single-mindedness quashed whatever hunger she felt, until at last she saw Minikin again.

As always, Minikin’s giant bodyguard Trog accompanied her as she walked down the hall. She looked weary, for it was a difficult ride from Jador and always took a toll on the tiny woman. But her face remained glowing and her elvish expression lit the hall as she greeted her ‘children’, those others like Meriel who lived in Grimhold. Meriel kept to the shadows as Minikin made her way closer. She was on her way to the dining hall, Meriel supposed, and the thought of waiting even longer to talk to her was torturous. As the little woman padded closer, Meriel stepped out of the shadows to confront her. Minikin stopped as if she expected the interruption.

‘Minikin,’ said Meriel sheepishly. ‘Welcome home.’

The little woman smiled, looking up past the fabric that hid Meriel’s face. ‘Hello, child,’ she said. She seemed genuinely glad the young woman had come to greet her. ‘Have you waited to sup with me?’

‘No,’ replied Meriel nervously. ‘Minikin, I have to speak with you.’

Minikin held out her little hand. ‘Good. Then come and eat and we shall talk.’

‘No, no, not here,’ said Meriel. ‘Please, I want to speak to you alone. It’s important.’

Minikin’s elvish face creased. ‘What is the matter, Meriel? Is something wrong?’

‘Perhaps something is right, Minikin, for the first time in years. I’ve made an important decision but I need your help with it.’ Meriel looked around, and through the folds of her cowl noticed others nearby. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘I don’t want others to hear me.’

Suspicion crept over Minikin’s face. She studied Meriel for a long while, letting the girl shift uncomfortably under her gaze. For Meriel it was like having icy hands crawl over her brain, for she knew that Minikin could read her thoughts and pull the secrets from her mind. Finally the little woman nodded. She turned to her massive bodyguard.

‘Trog, go and eat. I’ll see you again as soon as I can.’

The great mute looked displeased, but never disobeyed his mistress. He lumbered past Meriel and made his way toward the dining hall without a sound. When he was out of earshot Minikin looked at Meriel again.

‘You have me worried, child. What is this thing you would discuss with me?’

‘Not here, please. Can we go somewhere else? Somewhere others can’t hear?’

‘To your rock perhaps?’ Minikin queried. ‘I’ve heard from the others that you’ve been spending much time in your hiding place, Meriel.’

Meriel knew she wasn’t being insulted; it wasn’t Minikin’s way to hurt people. Yet she was embarrassed by the forward question.

‘I spend time there because it makes me happy to be away from the keep,’ she said. ‘It’s quiet there and I can think.’

‘Good. Then we won’t be disturbed.’ Minikin’s smile was genuine. ‘Take me there, child. We will talk in secrets like two schoolgirls.’

‘What? Oh, no, Minikin. It’s too much of a climb. .’

‘Nonsense. My little legs are stronger than they look. Come on.’

Meriel was flabbergasted, but there was no arguing with the mistress at times like this. It didn’t matter that it was dark now or that the place was high up on a cliff — Minikin wanted to see it. In an odd way, it even pleased Meriel. She led the way out of the hall and through the keep, walking slowly so that Minikin could keep up. Others stopped to speak with them along the way, but each time Minikin politely refused conversation, devoting her attention to Meriel instead. They came to the great gate at the mouth of the keep, where Greygor the gate-keeper waited with his aides. He was another massive fellow, who like Trog kept silent all of the time. The gate, however, had remained opened since Minikin’s arrival, revealing the dark desert landscape beyond. Greygor, encased in the armour that held his broken body together, dropped to one knee when he saw Minikin approach. To Meriel he looked as tall and as wide as the gate itself. She had always feared the great man, though he had never given her cause.

‘Greygor, keep the gate open for us,’ said Minikin. ‘We will return soon.’

Just as Trog had not questioned her orders, Greygor merely nodded his metal-cased head. Minikin gestured to one of the torches on the wall.

‘Meriel,’ she said, ‘bring us some light.’

Having no need of torches, Meriel put her hand to the burning object and scooped up a ball of jumping flames. This she held in her palm like a lantern, effortlessly keeping it alive. For the first time in days she could feel Sarlvarian clearly now. It was his magic that kept the flame dancing, all without searing her flesh.

‘Take me to your secret place,’ Minikin directed.

With her palmful of flame lighting the way, Meriel stepped out of the keep and into the desert night. The sky was clear but the moon was a sliver, and only the beacon in her hand lighted the sand that forever lapped at the threshold of Grimhold. Minikin stepped out after her, unafraid as she followed Meriel away from the keep toward the looming cliffs. Because she knew the way so well Meriel hardly needed light at all, but she walked deliberately as she picked her way over the rocks so that Minikin could keep up. To her surprise the little lady in her magical coat moved effortlessly through the night, never more than a pace behind her. At one point she urged Meriel to move faster. Meriel did so, climbing the path she had worn into the mountainside as they made their way to her private outcropping of rock. Like the jaw of a giant, the rock jutted out from the side of the cliff, as though some godlike architect had built a private balcony for her. When they reached it, Minikin walked to the edge of the rock and nodded approvingly.

‘So this is where you go when I don’t know where you are,’ she said. ‘Now I see why. It’s lovely here.’

Meriel was no longer embarrassed. Instead she felt oddly proud of the little place she had discovered, and was glad to finally be sharing it with Minikin. At the base of the rock she gathered some dried shrubbery and sticks, which she arranged near the edge by Minikin. When she had a little pile she touched the flame in her palm to it, passing the fire from her hand to the tinder. It was hardly enough fuel for a fire, yet the tinder burned without really burning, holding the magical flame but not sending up even a wisp of smoke.

‘Quite a gift,’ commented Minikin when she saw what Meriel had done. Meriel grimaced, not sure of the lady’s full meaning. She sat herself down cross-legged before the little fire and stared at it a moment.

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘It’s been. . useful.’

‘Your gift protects you from pain,’ Minikin reminded her. The little woman sat down across from her, studying her face in the feeble light. ‘You would suffer without it.’

‘I suffer now, Minikin. Every day.’

‘Your suffering is of the heart, child. I’m talking about suffering of the body. Have you forgotten the pain you were in before Sarlvarian?’

‘How could I?’

Minikin left the question open-ended. ‘You want to leave here, don’t you?’

Meriel nodded.

‘Is that what you want from me? My blessing to leave Grimhold?’

‘I wish it were so simple, Minikin. But no, I want something more.’

‘Remove your cowl,’ bid Minikin gently. ‘You have no need to hide from me.’

It had always been her custom to hide her face from everyone but Lukien. Only he had insisted that she never shy away, and she loved him for that. But Minikin’s mild words coaxed Meriel’s cowl down, revealing her horribly scarred face.

‘It is well that you should see me as I truly am,’ said Meriel, ‘because I do not wish to be this way any longer. Look at me, Minikin. Look at my ugliness and tell me that you cannot understand this wish.’

‘I understand,’ said Minikin. ‘It is hard for you, I know.’

‘No, you don’t understand. You don’t know what I’m asking, do you?’

‘Here in Grimhold your thoughts are your own. I have the tools to pry them open if that’s what you want. Or can you find the words to tell me yourself?’

Suddenly Meriel was afraid. The courage she had cultivated throughout the day fled as she looked at Minikin across the night gloom. ‘Minikin, I wish to leave here, but not as I am. I want to change,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to return to the world as a monster. I want to change the way I look.’ She steeled herself before concluding, ‘I want to change my Akari.’

It was rare to see Minikin stunned, but she was so now. Her eyes blinked in disbelief, and for a moment she made no sound at all. Meriel hurried to fill the silence.

‘I have thought about this hard. It’s all I’ve thought about, really. I want to look normal, Minikin, like I did before the fire. I want an Akari that can do that for me, change my appearance the way Ghost does.’

‘But Sarlvarian. .’

‘I know,’ said Meriel, ‘and I’m sorry to even be saying this. If it weren’t so important I would never ask such a thing. But it is possible, yes? If Ghost can make himself appear to vanish, cannot another Akari make me look normal again?’

It was a struggle for Minikin to reply. ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘It is possible. But what you ask has never been done before, child. No Inhuman has ever shunned her Akari.’ She glanced down at the amulet around her neck, the one that held the essence of Lariniza. It began to pulse, not angrily but sadly. Minikin’s face grew troubled. ‘The others — Amaraz and his sister — they will not be pleased.’

‘But you can make them allow it,’ Meriel begged. ‘They’ll listen to you. If you tell them how important this is to me, they will let you do this for me. And you can find another host for Sarlvarian. The boy you brought from Jador, perhaps.’

‘Carlan? You seem to have thought of everything.’

‘Minikin, this is not easy for me. But look at me!’ She put her face closer to the fire, held out her hands for Minikin to inspect. Even in the weak light the scars were unmistakable. ‘I can’t go on like this, being alone. Being unloved. I want to be whole again. If there’s a way you must help me find it.’

‘But you are not unloved, Meriel. I love you. The other Inhumans love you.’

Meriel leaned back and tried to mask her thoughts. ‘That’s not what I mean.’

‘No. I see that now. You mean the love of a man. You want Lukien to love you.’

Hotness flushed Meriel’s face. ‘It’s not so simple.’

‘He never will, Meriel.’

‘Minikin, you’re presuming too much. .’

‘He never will,’ repeated the mistress firmly. ‘He’s in love with another. A memory, perhaps, but another just the same. Mark me, child — I could have the Akari change you into a goddess, and Lukien would still not have eyes for you.’

Minikin’s frankness made Meriel bristle. ‘He cares for me, Minikin. I know he does. He’s kind and good to me and he spends time with me. He would love me were I not so hideous.’

‘He already loves you, as a brother loves a sister. But as a man loves a woman? No. Never. Not while Cassandra still haunts him.’

‘Minikin, please,’ begged Meriel. ‘I was pretty before the burning. In time I can make him forget Cassandra.’

‘No,’ said Minikin. ‘I can’t let you believe that. It’s a lie, and if you live a lie you will always be unhappy.’

‘But I am unhappy! Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see what living like a monster is like for me?’

Hurt flashed through Minikin’s face. Never before had Meriel raised her voice to her. It made something in the little woman shift. Minikin took a mournful breath.

‘I have failed you,’ she said finally. ‘I tried so hard to make you one of us, but you’ve never been one of us. Like a peg I’ve tried to make you fit but you just don’t. Perhaps you cannot, I don’t know. But I have tried, Meriel. I never forced you to stay here. I never made you take an Inhuman name.’

Meriel nodded, for that was one thing she had always appreciated. Unlike the other Inhumans, she had not taken on a name to match her appearance or strange gifts. Doing so had always seemed too final for her, too much like giving up.

‘You have been kind, and if I’ve been ungrateful I am sorry. But now the time has come for me to go, and I have to ask this thing of you.’ She smiled at Minikin, and in that moment truly loved her benefactor. ‘Please, won’t you do this thing for me? If it’s in your power, can’t you make me whole again?’

‘But you are not broken, child,’ said Minikin sadly. ‘How can I make you see that?’

‘All that I see when I look at a mirror is this,’ said Meriel, holding out her scarred hands. ‘I don’t just hide from others. I hide from myself. I wear my cloak because passing a looking glass is like a dagger in my heart. That’s not why you brought me here. I know it’s not. You brought me here to help me. Please. . won’t you help me now?’

Minikin’s eyes were full of sadness, the kind Meriel had seen only once in the mistress, a year ago when White-Eye’s father had died. It surprised the young woman that sadness had been the reaction, and not anger. She had expected a storm from the little woman.

‘What you’re asking is a great task, Meriel,’ she said. ‘And even if I grant you this thing, it won’t make you happy. This is not something I need magic to see. Your search for Lukien’s love will lead you to oblivion.’

‘Then another man’s love,’ said Meriel desperately. ‘If not Lukien, then someone else. How can you know that another man won’t love me? There’s always that chance, but not like this, not while I’m a horror to behold.’

‘Are you so sure? It seems to me that there are those who love you even with your skin burned.’

Meriel sighed. ‘You mean Thorin. He is too old for me, Minikin.’

‘But he is a man, and he cares for you in a way that Lukien does not. Oh, you may mistake Lukien’s kindness for man-woman love, but it is not. At least Thorin’s love is the kind you crave.’

‘From a younger man,’ said Meriel.

‘From Lukien,’ countered Minikin.

‘Shall we go around like this all night? It was torment for me to choose this decision, Minikin. Please, do not prolong my pain. Tell me what you will do. Will you help me?’

‘If I don’t you will leave here and blame me for every misery you face. Every time a man shuns you or a child stares, you will think of Grimhold and hate us. What choice have you given me, Meriel? I do not want to be hated by you.’

‘Then you’ll help me? You’ll give me a new Akari?’

‘The Akari is not mine to give or take. It will be up to Amaraz to decide. But yes, if he has no objections, I will help you.’

Meriel’s heart leapt. She had not expected Minikin to acquiesce to her request. Truly, she didn’t know what she had expected. To hear her acceptance was overwhelming.

‘Thank you, Minikin,’ she cried. ‘Thank you!’

‘Wait,’ said Minikin. ‘There is one thing else. If I do this thing for you — and there is no certainty that Amaraz will allow it — then you must do something for me in return.’

‘Tell me what it is,’ said Meriel. ‘Whatever it takes, I’ll do it.’

Minikin’s face grew rigid. ‘You wish to change your appearance and be normal again, but you will not truly be normal. No Akari can heal your skin or give you back your true appearance. It will be an illusion, Meriel, unreal.’

‘I know,’ said Meriel. ‘But it will appear that way to everyone, yes?’

‘Yes, that is how it should be.’

‘Then I will do it gladly!’

‘That is not what I’m asking. Not only must you understand this illusion, you must do something to prove that you understand it. Something that will keep you from forgetting we of Grimhold and where your magic truly comes from.’

Meriel grew wary suddenly. ‘What would you have me do?’

‘You will take on an Inhuman name. Finally.’

‘What? But why?’

‘This is not a request, Meriel. This is not some favour I ask of you. If you choose to abandon Sarlvarian for another Akari and go through the world with a mask, I insist that you understand what you’re doing. I do not approve of it at all. Grimhold was founded against the fallacy of beauty. You have chosen to ignore that principle. And so you must take on a name that reminds you of us, and the masquerade you live.’

‘What name?’ asked Meriel dreadfully.

Minikin replied, ‘You will call yourself Mirage.’

Mirage. Meriel thought about the word while staring at Minikin. Why was she doing this to her?

‘Mirage,’ she echoed. ‘I’m to call myself that always?’

‘Always,’ Minikin insisted. ‘To do otherwise will break the magic of the Akari. You will be what you are now again, but without the gifts that Sarlvarian has given you. And be aware of this, too — if you do this thing, you will no longer have your fire gift. No more controlling flames with your mind, and no more controlling the pain of your scars.’ The elvish woman looked at Meriel uncertainly. ‘Now, are you sure this is what you want?’

‘I’m sure,’ said Meriel with defiance. ‘Mirage is what I will call myself. After all, it’s just a name. And I can deal with the pain. It will be nothing compared to looking at my ugly face.’ She smiled. ‘I’m ready.’

Minikin was circumspect. ‘You will have time to think on it.’

‘I don’t need time. I want to do this right away.’

‘That may be so, but I need time to discuss this with Amaraz and convince him of the rightness of it. That will not be easy, child. He may refuse me.’

Meriel nodded. ‘I know you’ll try, Minikin. Thank you.’

The Mistress of Grimhold smiled again. Despite what had been said, there was real love in her expression. ‘There are times when no amount of talk will convince a girl to change her mind. This is one of those times, I think.’ She leaned back on her elbow, making herself comfortable. ‘Now, tell me about the way you looked before the burning. .’

Two days later, Meriel found herself in the cave of spirits.

It had been three years since she had last been in the cave, when she had arrived in Grimhold and Minikin had taken her down into the depths below the fortress. It was when she had first been given Sarlvarian, when she had first been made an Inhuman and joined the ranks of those lucky few with an Akari. Then, Meriel had been younger but she was no less wide-eyed now. No other Inhuman had seen the cave of spirits twice, save for Minikin, for this was the place where adult Inhumans were born. They were not kissed as Gilwyn Toms was as an infant or given an Akari to look over them without their knowledge. Like Ghost and a handful of others, Meriel had been fully aware of the great gift being bestowed on her. Now, as she reacquainted herself with the fabulous cavern, she listened as the stalactites dripped cool water from an impossibly high ceiling. There was no fire or lantern light in the cave. Instead the place was lit by a dazzling array of gemstone clusters, cracked and fiery rocks that twinkled with unnatural light and made the chamber glow blue and purple. Every step Meriel took echoed through the endless tunnels. Up ahead, Minikin walked in silence.

The mistress had not explained the past few days to Meriel. Instead, she had merely told the girl that Amaraz had granted her request. Had it been a battle to convince the great Akari? Meriel didn’t know and Minikin wasn’t talking. The little woman wore a shroud of mystery as she led Meriel deeper into the effusive cave. Cool air wafted down from some unseen source, coiling through the rock formations to touch Meriel’s face. She had taken down her cloak and let the breeze caress her. As she skirted over the jagged ground she saw a pool up ahead. More like a vast, unmoving lake, the placid basin of crystal water reflected the darts of gem-light throughout the cave. Minikin finally came to a stop near the pool. She dipped her tiny hand into the unmoving water but caused no ripple at all. As she pulled free her hand the water closed around her fingers and was still. Minikin touched her dampened hand to the amulet around her neck. She closed her eyes and was silent for a time while the red gem in the amulet pulsed, humming as if speaking to her. Meriel didn’t know much about the amulet or its powerful Akari, but it struck her now how similar the gold-encrusted gem was to the stones twinkling in the cavern.

The cave of spirits worked its peculiar glamour on Meriel. They were far below Grimhold now, in a secret place. None who were taken here could ever remember how to return, and to Meriel’s knowledge none had ever tried. It was just one of hundreds of chambers below Grimhold, an offshoot of miles of stone corridors. But it was a holy place to the Inhumans and to Minikin in particular, who continued to commune with her own Akari while Meriel prepared her mind for the coming separation.

She would miss Sarlvarian dearly. She wondered what pain his leaving would bring. He had tirelessly protected her from her searing scars, wounds that had driven her to madness before his magic touch had soothed her. Now she had inflicted another wound upon herself, this one of guilt. She closed her eyes for a moment and begged Sarlvarian to forgive her.

And for a moment her old Akari appeared in her mind. This same thing had happened so infrequently in the past that it startled Meriel now. Sarlvarian’s handsome face held no emotion. She hoped to see a glimmer of forgiveness but found none in his peculiar eyes. He merely watched her from his far-off world of the dead, as if saying some kind of joyless goodbye. Then he quickly vanished, leaving Meriel groping and alone. She opened her eyes at once. The air around her seemed heavier. Her breathing grew laboured. The skin on her face and hands begin to tingle.

‘Minikin,’ she said with alarm. ‘Sarlvarian. . he’s left me.’

‘Yes,’ said Minikin. At last she opened her eyes. In her right hand she held tight the amulet. She reached out her left hand for Meriel. ‘He’s gone. Hold on now. .’

Meriel took Minikin’s hand. Around her the cavern began to swim. She felt hot, felt burning from her old wounds and the swooning rush of Sarlvarian’s departure.

‘What’s happening? Minikin, it hurts. .’

‘It’s the separation,’ said Minikin. ‘I warned you.’

She had indeed warned her, but Meriel hadn’t expected the pain to be so intense. Because she hadn’t felt it in years it assaulted her now. Minikin held her hand, keeping her steady until the worst of it was over. Finally Meriel got control of it. Like in the days before Sarlvarian, she forced her mind to master the pain.

‘I’m all right,’ she said. ‘All right. .’

‘Can you walk?’

Meriel nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘Then walk to the other side of the pool,’ said Minikin, and let go of her hand.

Meriel looked at her. ‘What for?’

‘Because, child, you will find your new Akari there.’

Astonished, Meriel glanced toward the other end of the crystal pool. She saw nothing there, just peaceful water bordered by a gemstone wall. Yet the very thought of seeing her new Akari made the pain flee from her skin.

‘He’s there?’ she asked hopefully. ‘But I don’t see anything.’

‘She is there. Her name is Kirsil. Go to her, Meriel. She’s waiting for you.’

The pool remained perfectly calm as Meriel inched uncertainly toward it. Across the other side she still could see nothing, but she trusted Minikin and so continued on, stepping into the strange water. Quickly, she was up to her knees, but the water around her barely stirred. The cool sensation made her giddy. She turned her head to see Minikin urging her on.

‘Go on,’ said Minikin. ‘You’re all right.’

Not knowing if the water was deep or dangerous, Meriel moved slowly but confidently through the pool. By the time she was halfway across she was up to her stomach. Amazingly, she left no ripples in her wake. She could still glance down and see her reflection, unwavering. Whether it was the cold of the water or some unknown magic of the cave, she felt light-headed again, just as she had when Sarlvarian had fled. This time though there was a completeness to the feeling, as if she were no longer alone in her own skull.

‘Kirsil?’ she called. Carefully she continued forward. ‘Are you there?’

By the time she had reached the other end of the pool the feeling of completeness was on her fully. As if someone was beside her — inside her, even — she looked around expectantly, yet still saw no one in the pool or on the nearby bank. Confused, she looked across the water to where Minikin was standing.

‘Minikin, I don’t see anyone. Where is she?’

The Mistress of Grimhold stared at her, her mouth open in amazement.

‘Minikin? What’s wrong?’

‘Look down, child,’ said Minikin through a beaming grin. ‘Look into the water.’

Glancing down into the unmoving water, Meriel saw a woman gazing back at her. Golden hair moved in the slight breeze and young, perfect skin shimmered. Meriel wondered if it was the Akari she saw. .

But then remembered the way she looked once before.

‘Oh, gods and angels,’ she gasped. The mouth of the reflection moved to her own words. ‘That’s me!’

She stared at the reflection, astonished by her transformation. When she reached down to touch it, the reflection reached up magically to greet her. Their hands met. Meriel began to weep.

‘Minikin, look at me!’ she cried. ‘I’m beautiful!’

Across the pond, Minikin nodded in approval of her handiwork. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Beautiful.’ She stepped a little closer to the water. ‘You have been reborn. Welcome to the world. . Mirage.’