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."You can't know how to find those bandits." His frown deepened, and he turned slowly."Unless-""You're a suspicious lad, aren't you?" Belize seemed amused."No, I'm not secretly the ringleader of a band of cutthroats.I have far more interesting ways to spend my time." The mage pulled something from the depths of his red robe and held it up to the flickering light.A palm-sized fragment of mirror caught a beam shining through the smoke hole and reflected a shaft of light painfully into Guerrand's eyes."Magical glass.It's a useful little item, one that I'm sure any master wizard could acquaint you with.It will show you the location of your brother's killers.""Could it be true?" wondered Guerrand.Even if it was, how could he tell Cormac where the robbers were, without revealing where he'd gotten the information? If Guerrand said someone in the village gave him a tip, Cormac would either discount it as rumor or demand Guerrand produce the informants.As if impatient, the mirror glinted in Guerrand's eye again.He had to look, if only for Quinn.Belize tipped the mirror slightly toward Guerrand, to afford him a better view.At first he saw only the reflection of his own eyes and nose in the small glass.He stared, but the image didn't change.Embarrassed, Guerrand finally asked, "Do I have to say or do something special? It doesn't seem to be working.""Just concentrate," Belize murmured."Concentrate on your memory of your brother."Guerrand renewed his effort, this time trying to think of nothing but Quinn as he looked into the mirror.He envisioned his brother as he had last seen him alive, two years before, wearing his gleaming armor and sitting astride his gaily decorated horse as he set out for war, adventure, and plunder.Slowly an image swirled in the mirror, forming a picture of a small campsite.Three vague figures sat around a low, smokeless fire, eating provisions or tending their weapons.He recognized the spot as a pleasant hilltop in the woods, only a few leagues from Thonvil.But as his thoughts strayed from Quinn, the vision swirled away."H-how do I know they're really the ones who killed Quinn?"Belize slipped the small mirror into Guerrand's palm."I've commanded it to continue showing you where they are.Use it to track them down and get proof.Give it to someone else if you're afraid."And now, I bid you farewell." With a quick wave of his arms, Belize released the spells on the shop and its occupants.In that one gesture, the breeze stopped, the fire came back to life, the awnings and doors flew open, and Wilor, his wife, and apprentices began to move again.Belize was gone.Wilor looked slightly puzzled until he saw the package in Guerrand's hands."There it is! Strange, I don't remember handing it to you." He shook his head and smiled to himself."Must be getting old." With that, Wilor returned to the apprentice and the anvil to finish the work he'd been at when Guerrand arrived.As Guerrand hurried from the shop, he couldn't decide which item in his hands weighed him down more, the mirror or the wedding present.Chapter Four"What am I doing?" Kirah heard Guerrand mumble.Yes, what on Krynn was Guerrand doing, she wondered from her hiding place behind a haystack in the stable.It was all very mysterious.Why was Guerrand, who didn't even like horses, saddling one in the middle of the night?Guerrand had seemed unusually distant this afternoon.Though they weren't exactly speaking, she'd watched him through the tunnels, seen that he'd gone to the village that afternoon to retrieve a trinket for his bride.Hoping that there was still a chance she could talk him into running away, she'd hidden in the tunnel outside his room earlier.She'd been trying to screw up the courage to go in and make peace with him, when he had launched into a very mysterious sequence of activities.First, he donned his leather and mail armor, then, apparently changing his mind, took it off again, very thoughtfully.Next he pulled on a baggy tunic and trousers and a pair of stiff, high boots.Dressed, he recited some quick prayers to Habbakuk, took his sword and dagger down from the wall, and slipped out the door.Intrigued, Kirah had followed him, creeping around in darkened corners, slipping silently down the staircase after him.The keep was dimly lit, everyone else asleep, or at least retired for the night.She'd been more than a little surprised to find that the stable was his destination.Now Kirah settled back to watch her brother struggle the headstall of a bridle over the horse's head and set the bit in its mouth."I must be crazy," Guerrand growled to himself, "but what else can I do?" With a soul-felt grunt, he tossed the saddle over the roan's back.Once the saddle was cinched in place, he hung a small, round shield from the pommel and buckled on his swordbelt and dagger.The sword looked as proper on Guerrand as a third arm, mused Kirah.Her brother was no knight, despite his best efforts and Cormac's insistence.Where in the Abyss was he going in the middle of the night with weapons? Worse still, how was she to follow with him on horseback? Kirah was puzzling through that while Guerrand put the finishing touches on his gear and then swung lightly up onto the horse.Suddenly Guerrand fell still in the saddle.His eyes misted over and closed gently [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]