The Magic Mirror

Mr. Lout

There was a knock at the door the next morning.

Mr and Mrs. Plow looked at each other nervously, then Mr. Plow let the fool inside.

Mr. Lout was just about what they had expected. He was older, well-to-do and a bit on the shortish side for he was hunched as he walked.

"Dear me," Mrs. Plow whispered to Mr. Plow. "Audrin would have towered over him. I guess it's for the best."

"Good day to you Mr. Plow, Mrs. Plow." Mr. Lout came inside slowly, pushing a silver tipped cane into the floor with every step. He was dragging his left foot and his hands were bandaged.

Mrs. Plow thought this was odd.

"Won't you have a seat?" asked Mr. Plow. Extending a hand towards the table. "My wife will get you a refreshment.. what will you have?"

"Nothing, please," Mr. Lout said, as he made his way to a chair and sank into it. "I'm afraid that my stay will be... brief..."

"Well if that's the case then I really do think I ought to tell you," Mrs. Plow folded her arms. "Our daughter, Audrin, has taken off. Did it last night while we were asleep."

"I don't know how we didn't hear her," Mr. Plow added. "She's not too light on her feet... sometimes it sounds like we keep a pony in the loft-" He stopped as his wife elbowed him in the ribs. "But she's very good with paperwork, sir."

Mr. Lout looked from Mr. to Mrs. Plow with what could only be amazement. "Well that beats all... my son took off yesterday."

"Your son?" asked Mrs. Plow. "I wasn't aware that you had one, Mr. Lout."

"Of course I have a son!" Mr. Lout told them. "He doesn't get out much... he has a... a disorder. He isn't well... but seeing as how I'm getting up in years I didn't want him to be alone should something happen to me... that's why I was paying for your girl, of course."

"Of course." Mr. and Mrs. Plow nodded.

"No matter," Mr. Lout said. "Apparently he took to it just about as well as your Audrin did. It's probably for the better though.. I'm not sure she could have stomached the sight of him."

"I'm sure she'd be most lucky to have him," Mrs. Plow insisted. "Our Audrin is quite a homely thing herself."

"Bah." Mr. Lout waved it away. "My Fritz has an awful attitude about himself. If the looks didn't repulse her his taste would."

"Well she could put up with that if he could put up with her disappearing at all odd hours of the day to hunt gnomes in the forest!"

"Odd hours my rear end," Mr. Lout boasted. "My Fritz sleeps well into the day! He's completely nocturnal!"

"Well our Audrin would sleep well through the night and then on into the day if she was allowed, Mr, Lout," Mrs. Plow said, "She's really a very lazy girl."

A silence fell between them in which Mr. Plow, confused by the transaction but feeling obliged to help added, "She's awfully good with paperwork."

"Well..." Mr. Lout nodded and he stood up again. "I wish you the very best.. perhaps it wasn't meant to be. If she turns up please let me know."

"Immediately, Mr Lout," Mrs. Plow agreed. "..And do let us know if your Fritz returns. We would love to meet him."

Mr. Lout offered a disgruntled snort but didn't explain it. Mrs. Plow wondered again at the bandages on his hands. What in the world did Mr. Lout do in his large, gloomy house on the hill?

　

--Meanwhile at the Graves Dungeon--

Fier woke up to a loud snore and lifted his head off of the dungeon floor. When had he fallen asleep? He must have dozed off some time in the night while Audrin was making her great escape.

There was another loud snore. He looked at the mirror, annoyed. There was Audrin in the glass, leaned against a tree trunk with her head thrown back and her mouth gaping. A little drool ran down her chin. He could see this because the ring was just under her head. Probably resting on that stupid sword she had taken from the pile of bones on their way out. He could see the dark heaping form of her beast called Dumpling as well. Fier had never much cared for dogs and he was making no exception with this furred monstrosity. As if in answer to his thoughts the dog also began to snore.

"Wake up!" he hissed into the mirror.

The snoring persisted.

"Ugh." Fier gave up and set the mirror down, better not to look at it, he decided.

With the mirror out of the way the feeling of doom crept in on him once more. His attention turned to the window. He could hear voices from below it. He crept over- though there really was no need for creeping- and peered through it.

Down below he could see the tall, statuesque figure of Graves directing a swarm of birds to the guillotine. The mass parted to reveal a cowering prisoner, with a long beard, tattered clothing and skeletal features.

"Please Graves," the man was begging. "Have mercy! I've told you all I know! I swear it's true!"

"I know." Graves gave the man a pat on the head and put on a mock pout. "And I'm done with you now."

"But I have a family!" the man stammered as the birds dragged him forward. "My wife is sick."

"HALT!" Graves stopped the birds and Fier watched the prisoner's eyes light up. Graves put a hand to his face. "Oh dear... a sick wife? Well what will she do with out you?"

"Exactly sir," the prisoner said. "Let me go home to her! Please!"

Graves considered him softly and said, "Oh alright. Release him."

Fier was puzzled. This was not like Graves from the stories Parsimum had told him long ago.

"Really? Oh thank you Graves!" The prisoner kissed his feet, tears running down his cheeks. "Merciful Graves, Wise Graves- thank you, thank you! You have my unwavering loyalty!"

"Yes yes." Graves kicked him away. "Run along now. No one's stopping you."

Ah, so that was it. Fier sank to see it. The bridge to the guillotine island had melted away. There was a chance the prisoner could jump the lava pit, but even if he made it that far he had the maze of venomous thornbrush to deal with, and what ever else lay beyond.

The prisoner paled at the sight of it and stood. He understood now, and the praise for Grave's mercy was gone. But there was still a stubborn hope left in the man. He made a run for it, he jumped and- Fier turned sharply away from the window with a grimace. The prisoner's cries were painful to listen to but brief. When they had subsided so had the snoring from the mirror.

"Ring?" asked Audrin, through a yawn.

"Fier!" Fier corrected. Honestly, this girl was denser than brick.

"You awake?" she asked.

He sighed and glanced at the window grimly. "Yes," he told her. "I'm very much awake."

"Were you screaming just now, or did I imagine it?"

"It wasn't me," was all he said, and he hoped it never would be.