main | table of contents The Reflecting Eye Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 21 Rivals She suddenly awoke from a disturbing dream. But in the morning light streaming from her bedroom window, everything that she had dreamed had evaporated like so much sublimed ice. Only an uneasy feeling lingered, as if she had heard some sort of unconscious warning but she did not know what it was, why it was, or what it was for. But when she had gone downstairs to get some breakfast, those whispers had come back. And with those whispers, she felt the remnants from those dreams knocking softly on her consciousness. She had left the old mirror on her dining room table, face down and words up. The whispering became louder in her ears as she neared the mirror. When she was finally looking down on it, nothing seemed amiss; it was just an old object. It was at that moment that the something in the back of her mind burst into her consciousness and she realized what was wrong and the whispering stopped. The strange writing on the back of the mirror had changed. She had no way of proving it aside from her gut feeling. She still did not know what the strange unnatural writing said, but whatever it was, it had caused her to dream those dreams. It was then that she went to get a sheet of paper and a piece of crayon to make a rubbing of the back of the mirror. If it changed again, she would have proof. But if she had the proof, how then would she explain the change? * * * “Verity?” “Hm?” Georgette and Patrice, the two ladies who manned the reception desk in the entrance foyer of the Rothburne Institute had organized a fairly large Feasting Day party in one of the halls of Monteport College. The hall itself was painted a tedious beige and lined with sconces that provided weak light. Most of the light came from the uncurtained windows at the head of the room which also contained a long buffet table. The rest of the room had large round tables, large enough to seat ten people, which were draped with linen the same tedious beige as the walls. Perhaps this dining hall had originally been intended to entertain staid college professors. The hostesses were seated several tables away, visibly enjoying themselves. Verity and Gammell had arrived a little later than most of the guests and were sitting with a group institute administrative personnel gossiping among themselves about the latest crash and burn inter-office affair. “You’ve hardly touched your food,” said Gammell. Verity glanced at her plate which had two sandwiches—one of them half-eaten—a slice of tomato and mushroom quiche, and a small berry tart. Gammell’s plate was almost empty except for the tart which at the moment was rapidly disappearing into his mouth. “I guess I’m not that hungry,” she said. She picked up the half-eaten sandwich and took another bite. “You looked preoccupied with something.” “I am.” She continued eating the sandwich until it was gone. By that time, the administrative employees had completely finished their lunch and had left to get to Corvus early. “Do you know any foreign languages?” “Why do you ask?” “I might have something that needs to be translated,” she said vaguely. “I learned how to read two other languages when I was in school,” he said. “But I don’t know how to speak them properly. What language do you need translated?” “I don’t know. I can’t tell what language it is.” “Ah.” “I don’t have it with me at the moment. Maybe I’ll show it to you later.” “The college probably has some foreign language professors that may help you if it’s a language I don’t know.” “I’m not sure I want to show this to a professor.” “Why?” She shrugged and said instead, “I’m sorry this party is such a bust. I wish I knew more people around here.” “It’s not your fault. People tend to stick together with other people like themselves. It’s easier and more comfortable that way, even if the result is a lot less interesting.” By the time Verity had finished eating, most of the people had filtered out of the dining hall to attend the service at the cathedral. They disposed their plates and put on their coats for the cold walk across the main square to the Corvus. The cathedral itself was only half-filled with people on Feasting Day. The main service would be held the next day, Fasting Day. All the cubbyholes on the side walls were now filled with lit candles making the walls look like it had captured all the stars in the sky. The people attending the Feasting Day service at the Corvus were all dressed as casually as Verity and Gammell—heavy coat, sweaters, boots for walking in the snow. They chose a spot near the back of the crowd of people kneeling at the front half of the Corvus. A few minutes after they knelt down on the cold, hard floor, a priest and priestess entered the chapel from a side door. Both of them carried a long white wax taper which they placed on holders at the altar. The priest and priestess then stood on either side of the statue of the crow-headed Aunat who looked out over his worshippers. The two religious leaders stood, arms loosely at their sides. The service itself consisted of an opening prayer led by the priestess. The main sermon was conducted by the priest who expounded, from memory, the passage from the holy texts about the nameless one’s year-long toil to create the world and then his disappearance at the end of the year to see if the world still held up after he returned for the next year. Afterwards, the priestess closed the service with another prayer. Verity listened to the voices of the priest and priestess echoing in the vault of the Corvus. She felt nothing from those words that she had heard from childhood. It wasn’t exactly boring, but this kneeling in supplication to a nameless one she wasn’t even sure existed seemed to miss the point of, well, everything. Perhaps she should have never come. When the service ended, Verity stood up, eager to escape the suddenly confining cathedral. It was as if the entire world had abruptly shrunk during the service to the size of just the main room with all the worshippers. It was as if it had tried to stifle what she was trying to feel and think. “Ah, Ms. Tage, what a surprise to find you here. You didn’t strike me as the religious sort.” She recognized that voice. And with it, she also remembered Aeneus’s very first advice to her. “Good day, Dr. Greene,” she said politely. Coldly. She hoped fervently that he got the message. Miram Greene had come to the service alone wearing a dark coat and a fine ivory scarf. An expensive watch glittered at his wrist and he had meticulously combed his graying hair over his balding spot so that at first glance, he still appeared to have a full head of hair. “If I had known you would be coming here, I would have offered you a ride here myself.” “I have my own car.” The doctor glanced at Gammell who stood beside her. “What are you doing here?” “Attending the Feasting Day service just as you are,” he replied. “Is there something wrong with that?” “No, of course not,” the doctor said placatingly. He turned his gaze back on Verity. She felt as if slime had suddenly oozed onto her skin. “I’ve been invited to a Feasting Day event in the southern part of the city. Since you’re new here, I’d like to take you to it. It’s being organized by a friend of mine. Have you ever been to the Monteport Park? It’s a wonderful place.” “Sorry, but I’ve had prior plans.” “Plans? What plans? You know, I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t think you’re not available at all. You’re trying to avoid me. It’s bad form to refuse an invitation just because you don’t want to go.” Verity didn’t like his line of reasoning at all. “If you really want to know, I’m going to another party with Gammell.” “Gammell?” Greene’s voice was incredulous as he swept his eyes back on his patient. “But he’s crazy.” “I would appreciate it if you don’t bring up my medical history in public,” said Gammell. His eyes glittered as he stared hard at his doctor. “I agree with him. Patient confidentiality and all that. Records are supposed to be kept private. It’s an ethical responsibility, especially for doctors,” said Verity. Visibly nettled, Greene said, “Knowing him, he’s going to take you to a gathering of crackpots. You’re a smart woman, Ms. Tage. I know that the people at the event I’m going to will be much more interesting.” “Well, I’m afraid I will have to decline your generous offer again.” “Then why are you going with him?” “I asked her first,” said Gammell. Greene’s lip curled up in a snarl. “Don’t try to be clever with me. I only tolerate you during the appointments.” “That’s not very nice,” Gammell replied, “after all the money my sister spent on your fees.” The doctor shook his head and tried to paste a smile on his face. “So why him?” Verity wanted to escape the disaster of a conversation. She was going to try the same trick again. Even if the adamant doctor didn’t believe her, at least she would escape again. She looked at her watch. “Oh sorry, Dr. Greene. We have to be somewhere soon. Excuse us.” As she started to move away, Greene suddenly grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away, but he held fast. “Why him?” he whispered in her ear. Gammell intervened, pulling the doctor’s hand off her. He gave the doctor a hard look. “We’ve got to go.” A strange calm expression came across Greene’s face as he shook his hand away from Gammell’s grip. “You know you’re treading on dangerous ground, Gammell. I can have you locked up with a mere word. And don’t forget that I eventually always get what I want.”