living quarters; and the people moving in and out of them apparently belonged to the middle ranks of the place-merchants, secretaries, ladies-in-waiting, supervisors. Terisa pursued her question with the maid.
'So you don't know anything about mirrors-or Imagery?'
'No, my lady,' replied Saddith. 'I only know that any Master will tell me whatever I wish-if I conceive a wish for something he knows.'
'That must be nice,' Terisa thought she understood what she was hearing; but the idea was too abstract to seem real. No man had ever found her that attractive.
'My lady'-Saddith appraised Terisa's figure again, nodding to herself at what she saw-'the same is true for you, if you choose to make it so.'
You mean, Terisa thought, if I unbuttoned my shirt King Joyse would tell me whatever I wanted to know? Helpless to stop herself, she started laughing.
'Perhaps,' Saddith said, 'in your world women have no need of that power.' She sounded faintly distressed by the idea- jealous of it? threatened by it?
'I don't know,' Terisa admitted. 'I don't have any experience.'
Saddith looked away quickly; but before her face turned it betrayed a glimpse of mirth or contempt.
After a while, she led Terisa up another series of stairs into what appeared to be another tower. Past a landing at the end of a short hall, they reached a wide door formed of polished wood. Saddith opened it and ushered Terisa into her assigned rooms.
It took no great effort of perception to see why they were called 'the peacock rooms'. Their walls were decorated with an ornate profusion of peacock feathers, some hanging like plumes over the dark mahogany tables, others displayed in rich fans where other decorators might have put pictures or tapestries, still others forming a kind of canopy over the large, deep, satin-covered bed. The sizeable room Terisa had entered was apparently a sitting room or parlour, its stone floor masked by rugs woven into peacock patterns, its cushioned couch and chairs painted with peacock blue and almost-black purple; but the bedroom could be seen through an arched doorway to her right. A door to the left suggested a bathroom.
The lamps set around the walls were unlit, as were the candles in their holders on the tables; but the rooms were bright with afternoon sunlight which streamed in through several glassed windows in the sitting room and bedroom. That, however, was the only glass to be seen: though she looked for them almost at once, Terisa couldn't discover any mirrors, not above the dressing table in the bedroom, not even in the bathroom.
She shivered. Both the sitting room and the bedroom had substantial fireplaces, but neither was lit. The sunshine on the rugs made their colours burn cheerily; yet outside the windows the sky looked pale, unwarmed. The air in the rooms was too cool for comfort. And the absence of mirrors seemed to have the force of a premonition. How would she be able to tell that she was still here, still real?
'Brrr,' said Saddith. 'Orison did not know of your coming, my lady, and so no one thought to warm these rooms.' She went at once to the sitting-room hearth and began setting a fire, using wood and kindling from a firebox close at hand.
Terisa looked around her quarters. In the bathroom, she noticed dully the basin, tub and bucket (all apparently fashioned of galvanized tin), as well as the cunning arrangement of copper pipes which provided running water (none of it warm). In the sitting room, she tested the cushions of a chair. In the bedroom, she looked into two large wardrobes, which smelled pleasantly of dry cedar but contained nothing. She didn't approach the windows, however. In fact, she refused to glance at them. What she had experienced was already alien enough: she wasn't ready to find out what the world or the weather outside Orison were like.
She had been right the first time: there was nothing in her rooms that she could use for a
'So you don't know anything about mirrors-or Imagery?'
'No, my lady,' replied Saddith. 'I only know that any Master will tell me whatever I wish-if I conceive a wish for something he knows.'
'That must be nice,' Terisa thought she understood what she was hearing; but the idea was too abstract to seem real. No man had ever found her that attractive.
'My lady'-Saddith appraised Terisa's figure again, nodding to herself at what she saw-'the same is true for you, if you choose to make it so.'
You mean, Terisa thought, if I unbuttoned my shirt King Joyse would tell me whatever I wanted to know? Helpless to stop herself, she started laughing.
'Perhaps,' Saddith said, 'in your world women have no need of that power.' She sounded faintly distressed by the idea- jealous of it? threatened by it?
'I don't know,' Terisa admitted. 'I don't have any experience.'
Saddith looked away quickly; but before her face turned it betrayed a glimpse of mirth or contempt.
After a while, she led Terisa up another series of stairs into what appeared to be another tower. Past a landing at the end of a short hall, they reached a wide door formed of polished wood. Saddith opened it and ushered Terisa into her assigned rooms.
It took no great effort of perception to see why they were called 'the peacock rooms'. Their walls were decorated with an ornate profusion of peacock feathers, some hanging like plumes over the dark mahogany tables, others displayed in rich fans where other decorators might have put pictures or tapestries, still others forming a kind of canopy over the large, deep, satin-covered bed. The sizeable room Terisa had entered was apparently a sitting room or parlour, its stone floor masked by rugs woven into peacock patterns, its cushioned couch and chairs painted with peacock blue and almost-black purple; but the bedroom could be seen through an arched doorway to her right. A door to the left suggested a bathroom.
The lamps set around the walls were unlit, as were the candles in their holders on the tables; but the rooms were bright with afternoon sunlight which streamed in through several glassed windows in the sitting room and bedroom. That, however, was the only glass to be seen: though she looked for them almost at once, Terisa couldn't discover any mirrors, not above the dressing table in the bedroom, not even in the bathroom.
She shivered. Both the sitting room and the bedroom had substantial fireplaces, but neither was lit. The sunshine on the rugs made their colours burn cheerily; yet outside the windows the sky looked pale, unwarmed. The air in the rooms was too cool for comfort. And the absence of mirrors seemed to have the force of a premonition. How would she be able to tell that she was still here, still real?
'Brrr,' said Saddith. 'Orison did not know of your coming, my lady, and so no one thought to warm these rooms.' She went at once to the sitting-room hearth and began setting a fire, using wood and kindling from a firebox close at hand.
Terisa looked around her quarters. In the bathroom, she noticed dully the basin, tub and bucket (all apparently fashioned of galvanized tin), as well as the cunning arrangement of copper pipes which provided running water (none of it warm). In the sitting room, she tested the cushions of a chair. In the bedroom, she looked into two large wardrobes, which smelled pleasantly of dry cedar but contained nothing. She didn't approach the windows, however. In fact, she refused to glance at them. What she had experienced was already alien enough: she wasn't ready to find out what the world or the weather outside Orison were like.
She had been right the first time: there was nothing in her rooms that she could use for a
Similar Books
