“What shame?” Opal scowled. “You had something stolen from you. That isn’t your fault!”

“Ah, but it meaning so much to me—that is my fault, without doubt. It has seized me—rooted itself in me like mistletoe on an oak. No, I could never be such a noble tree as Skyfather Perin’s oak.” He laughed brokenly. “It does not matter. I told no one. I made it my secret mistress, that mirror and what it contains, and I went to it afire with shame and joy. I spoke to no one because I was afraid I would have to give it up. Now it is too late. It’s gone.”

“Then it will be good for you,” said Chert. “If it is an illness, as you say, then you can be cured now.”

“You don’t understand!” Chaven turned to him, eyes wide and face pale. “Even if I survive its loss, it is a terrible, powerful thing. You do not think Hendon Tolly and that bastard traitor Okros stole it for no reason, do you? They want its power! And what they will do with it, the gods only know. In fact, it could be only the gods can help us.” He dropped his head, folded his bandaged hands on his chest—he was praying, Chert realized. “All-seeing Kupilas, lift me in your hands of bronze and ivory, preserve me from my folly. Holy Trigon, generous brothers, watch over us all…!” His voice dropped to a mumble.

“Doctor…Chaven,” Opal said at last, “do you…can you do things…with any mirror?”

Chert gaped at her in astonishment—what was she talking about?—but Chaven stirred and looked up, hollow-eyed but a little more composed. “I’m sorry, Mistress. What do you mean?”

“Could you help our Flint? Help him to find his wits again?”

“Opal, what is this nonsense?” Chert stood, feeling bone-weary in every part of his body. “Can’t you see that the man is ready to drop?”

“It’s true I am too tired to be of any use just now,” said Chaven, “but it is also true that after abusing your hospitality in many ways, there are things I could…explore. But we have no mirror.”

“We have mine.” Opal revealed the small face-glass she had been holding in her palm. She had received it as a wedding present from Chert’s sisters, and now she held it out to Chaven, proud and anxious as a small child. “Could you use it to help our boy?”

He held it briefly, then passed it back. “Any mirror has uses to one who has been trained, Mistress. I will see what can be done in the morning.” A strange light seemed to come into his eyes. “It is possible I could learn something of what Okros does as well.” He passed a hand over his face. “But now I am so tired…!”

“Lie down then,” said Opal. “Sleep. In the morning you can help him.” She giggled, which alarmed Chert as much as Chaven’s blubbering. “You can try, I mean.”