4 THE OLD DODDERER

one of the Imagers muttered. Another smiled his relish for Eremis' discomfiture; but most of the Congery felt otherwise. Master Gilbur gave a heavy shrug

of disgust. The rabbity man twitched his nose. They were glaring at Geraden.

Trembling inside, Terisa studied him, too. Softly, hesitantly, she asked, 'What do you mean, he believes I don't exist? Or I didn't exist until I was translated from the mirror?' That idea hit her too hard, too deeply. Was the uncertainty of her being so plain that even strangers could see it? 'It doesn't make any sense. None of this makes any sense. You don't even know who I am.'

At once, Geraden began to apologize. 'I'm sorry, my lady. I keep treating you badly, when that's the last thing I want.' He met her gaze with an expression of brave distress- unhappy about his talent for doing or saying the wrong thing, but determined to face the consequences. 'I should have let you go with Master Eremis. I don't know what came over me.'

Before she could protest, That isn't what I meant, Master Barsonage intervened. 'Apt Geraden,' he said, 'we have little patience for your contrition just now.'

'I'm sorry,' said Geraden again, reflexively.

'It is a tale,' the Master went on in a tone like a bar of lead, 'we have heard many times. Silence it, therefore, and heed me instead. I will not command you not to speak of all this to the King, since I know you would not obey me. I will say this, however. She is here through your agency. She is your responsibility. Give her the courtesy of Orison's hospitality as well as the Congery's respect. She is a mystery to us and must be well treated.

'But'-he clamped a hand onto Geraden's shoulder-'do not answer her questions, Apt.'

At that, Geraden's eyes widened. Ignoring Terisa, Barsonage tightened his grip and his tone. 'As a mystery to us, she is dangerous. Do not betray Mordant or the Congery to her until we are sure of her.'

Geraden's gaze slid away from the Master's. He studied the stones under Terisa's feet and said nothing.

Very quietly, the thick man asked, 'Do you understand me, Apt? I am the mediator of the Congery. If I dismiss you, you will never again be considered for the chasuble of a Master.'

None of the other Imagers made a sound. Some of them looked vexed: some seemed to be holding their breath. The air in the room was still too cold for comfort.

Geraden's shoulder twisted under the mediator's grasp; then he straightened himself

against the pressure. 'I understand you, Master Barsonage.' He sounded faraway and forlorn. 'The lady is my responsibility.'

'In all ways.' 'In all ways.'

Slowly, Master Barsonage released his hand. 'Admirable,' he muttered. 'Good sense becomes you.'

'Ha!' snorted Master Gilbur. 'Admirable, indeed.' He was glaring blackly at Geraden. 'If you believe that he will keep his word, Barsonage, you have become old in your wits.'

At that, Master Barsonage put his hands like barrel staves on his sides. 'Let me caution you against such statements, Master Gilbur, We are little trusted now-and less when you speak with such contempt. Apt Geraden springs from the honest and honourable line of the Domne. The sons of the Domne have always been true.'

Abruptly, then, he turned away from Geraden and Terisa. These meetings consume too much time,' he said in a friendly way to no one in particular. 'Again I am late for my noontide meal.' Slapping at his girth, he asked, 'Masters, will you join me?'

Several of the Imagers assented: Gilbur and others declined with varying degrees of courtesy. The Congery began to break up as Masters left the open centre of the chamber, moving towards the doors beyond the pillars. After a few backward looks and a murmured comment or two, they left her and Geraden alone.

He continued staring at the stones under her feet as if he were ashamed.

She blinked at him, feeling vaguely stupid. No one was going to answer any of her questions? No one was going to tell her why Master Eremis thought she didn't exist? Surely she had a right to protest?

As a little girl, however, she had occasionally made the mistake of protesting, of trying to stand up for herself. It isn't fair why do I always have to go to bed you never want me around! The reactions she had received taught her at an early age the folly of what she was doing. Her parents had wanted her to impinge on their consciousness as little as possible. Her father, in particular, had seldom been gentle when she had called his notice down on herself. Following his example, most of his servants had treated her with bare tolerance. And the numerous private schools to which she had been shuttled at his whim all had specific instructions where she was concerned. A passive child was only dismissed from attention: an assertive one was punished. And it was punishment which had first convinced her that she might not be real. Over the years, she had learned to let

herself feel less and less of the emotions that led to demands and rejection.

So instead of indulging herself in some kind of outcry, she did the next best thing: she watched the flush of Geraden's shame and said nothing.

When he finally raised his head, he looked miserable.

'I'm sorry, my lady. This isn't what I thought was going to happen at all. I knew they would have to be convinced-especially Master Gilbur. But I didn't think they-' He grimaced. 'It isn't fair to drag you into this and then refuse to answer your questions. It just isn't fair. And it's my fault again, of course.'

To keep him talking, she asked, 'How is it your fault?' Glumly, he muttered, 'I didn't tell them about your mirrors.'

There seemed to be no point in reminding him that she couldn't possibly understand what he meant, so she said, 'Why didn't you?'

He shrugged. 'I meant to. But at the last second I had the strongest feeling-' His voice trailed away, then came back more strongly. 'I just don't trust Master Eremis. Or Master Gilbur either, for that matter. I don't want to tell them anything.'

Terisa considered him for a moment. 'But you're still not going to answer my questions.' Thanks to her years of training, her tone betrayed almost no bitterness.

With a wince, he replied, 'No. I can't. You heard him. I think he's wrong-but that doesn't make any difference. He can have me dismissed. I've been trying to become a Master since I was fifteen. I can't give it up.' Again, he said, 'I'm sorry.'

Glowering, but unable to meet her gaze, he stopped. His dire expression made him look younger than he was-in fact, younger than she was herself. Unexpectedly, she found that she wasn't angry at him, not even down in the secret places of her heart where she kept her dangerous emotions hidden. He seemed to be upset as much on her behalf as on his own. That was a degree of consideration to which she was unaccustomed.

In response, she surprised herself by inquiring, 'Do you think I exist?'

He looked at her sharply, the glower suddenly gone from his face. 'Well, of course. Isn't it obvious? In fact, you're the proof of what King Joyse and Adept Havelock have been saying all along. Masters like Eremis and Gilbur believe the mirrors create what we see in them. Those things only exist when they're translated out of the glass. But that never made any sense to me. And now it sounds like nonsense-now that I've gone into a

mirror for myself and met you.' Excitement improved his appearance considerably. That was a shock-when I stepped into the glass expecting to find the champion and found you instead-but it convinced me you're real. Everything in the mirrors is real.'

Then he caught himself; the excitement faded from his face. He became distant and wary, ashamed again. 'But I'm not supposed to answer your questions.'