‘It would seem,’ said Pran quietly, ‘that the King’s Loremasters have contrived to unleash something terrible upon the world, no doubt at His behest. The Thane must be warned immediately. Both of you, come with me. Quickly.’

He led them to his chamber, and to Theuli’s dressing-mirror which hung on the wall, a low bench before it. ‘Deborah,’ he said urgently, ‘this is very important. Try to find the Thane using this glass.’

Both of the girls were still tired and shaken. But something of Pran’s urgency got through to both of them. They seated themselves on the bench before the mirror, and Deborah began to concentrate, guided by Éha’s Pixie instinct. ‘Just think of the Thane,’ Éha encouraged her. ‘Try to see his face.’

Flustered, Deborah said, ‘I don’t know what he looks like!’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ the dark-haired Pixie told her. ‘Just let your instincts guide you. Let it come by itself.’

And the image came. The Thane was sitting before a fire, speaking with others who were in shadow.

‘Now,’ said Pran, ‘look for a reflective surface . . . one that he will notice.’

The girls searched the image until they found something that might suffice. It was a small washbasin.




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