“It takes an enchantment to form the mirror, which combines the essence of moonlight and pure-water, that is, the reflection of truth. But you don’t have that power. Who did?”

She shook her head uneasily. She didn’t want to revisit that life and saw no reason to return, even in memories. “There was someone standing next to me, a presence, a person. I don’t remember seeing their reflection in the pond, not like yours here beside mine.”

“Interesting. We of the Shorn can use spells to hide ourselves from the mirror, if we so choose. That’s why we call it both the heart mirror and the shadow mirror.”

A new thought struck Elen, and she added breathlessly, “The dragon is your shadow, the heart of you, your essence.”

“A handsome fellow, I am sure you will agree. Everyone always said so. I fear the praise went to my head.” His reflection grinned, and he shot her a cheeky wink.

She rolled her eyes. “Here I stand, an ordinary garden viper. Nothing of beauty or elegance about me.”

“Nay, nay, do not say so, for you are everything you should be. Besides that, like all vipers, you have the ability to track your prey.”

“What is my prey?”

“You tell me.”

“I suppose it is Spore.”

“From what hints you’ve let drop, I suspect that over the years, this instinct for Spore has saved your life time and again, and the lives of others. Am I not correct?”

She sighed, tilting her head to study her sturdy features. Aoving had been pretty in a fragile way that attracted men of a certain type, and, of course, Ao’s unusual hair, once it had grown out, had attracted notice as well. In her adolescent years, Elen had sometimes struggled with despair that she could never be the flower to which bees swarmed, that she was the one people treated as a comrade. But Aoving had not prospered because of that interest. Fragile prettiness was a venom in its own fashion, that ate its owner if they were controlled by unkind hands. Being the focus of such attention had badly harmed the vulnerable Ao. After all that, once they’d made a home in Orledder Halt, Elen had no lack of willing partners when she wanted them, while Aoving had never taken a lover again, barely able to bear being touched, except by those in the throes of labor who needed a helping hand to clutch.

The haunt watched her watch her reflection. “The greatest beauty of the world lies in ordinary things. The rising and setting of the sun, on which we depend. The glorious joy of a waterfall. The first flower of spring. A field of ripe grain. The earth it grows in.” His reflection gestured upward toward the heavens. “The ordinary stars.”

“But the stars aren’t ordinary. They’re brilliant. They shine.”