look into your mirror and tell me what you see in there.”
“I did not bring my mirror,” said the Wizard of the Crow.
“Why the hell did you come here?” exploded Sikiokuu, no longer trying to cover up his chagrin. “To waste my time, or what? My instructions that you bring your mirror were loud and clear.”
The Wizard of the Crow was about to remind the minister that his presence here had been forced, but he thought the better of it. Nyawlra’s life, after all, hung in the balance. If the minister were to keep sending his men to the shrine every other day, Nyawlra would continually be in danger. So instead of open defiance, he employed a different tactic.
“It is not their fault,” the Wizard of the Crow said. “They told me to bring my mirror, but I assured them that I could use any mirror ready at hand. In most cases it is actually better, more effective, to use the mirror of the person afflicted, for such mirrors have the added advantage of having already captured the shadows of their owners.”
“That’s good,” Sikiokuu said, somewhat mollified. “In my apartment are many rooms, and each has a mirror. When we work late and we are too tired to go home, we spend the night here. Our apartments are really extensions of our offices. Which reminds me, oh, please forgive me for being such a bad host. Would you like a drink? Beer? Whiskey? Wine? Whatever you like!”
“No, thank you. I don’t drink. Alcohol is not my personal savior.”
Sikiokuu went into some other room, laughing. Even when he came back carrying a mirror he was still laughing.
“Alcohol is not your personal savior?” Sikiokuu asked, handing over the mirror. Then, all about the business at hand, he became deadly serious. “I want you to look at this mirror. Look all over it until you see Nyawlra. If you find her, I shall make sure that whatever you want is yours: money, shares in a company, a farm in an area formerly for whites only, a building plot or two in Eldares-the choice is yours. Okay? And remember that if I ever rise to a higher office I will make sure that you become
He talked as if words came out first and thought followed, although just now it was more like thought had become tired of following words and got stuck in only one desire: the way to Nyawlra’s lair. Strange that the tone of one man’s voice could carry such a mixture of prayer, bribe, threat, fear, and ambition.
It was clear to the wizard that Sikiokuu was desperate, capable of anything, so he resolved not to antagonize him. He must do whatever was necessary to deflect Sikiokuu and his henchmen from any thoughts of going back to the shrine.
“Give me the mirror,” he said. “But I must advise you: I have never done anything like this before. So don’t be surprised by the unexpected.”
“Just try and see what you can see through the mirror. Trying over and over again is the gateway to success.”
Even with the mirror in his hands, the Wizard of the Crow was no clearer about the details of his performance except that he had to protect Nyawlra. He stood up and started walking about in the office, deep in thought. Sikiokuu remained seated but his eyes followed the wizard’s every movement. Now the wizard sat down again and cleared his throat.
“I want you to dim all the lights save one by which to see the mirror,” said the Wizard of the Crow. Even before he had finished his command, Sikiokuu had jumped to his feet and started turning lights off, except the one dramatically illuminating the table.
“Sit on the other side of the table, facing me,” said the Wizard of the Crow.
The Wizard of the Crow held the mirror just above the table.
“Listen very carefully. It’s my turn to ask you a few questions.”
“Ask whatever you like. No one was ever convicted for asking questions.”
Sikiokuu saw the mirror begin to shake in the hands of the Wizard of the Crow.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Can’t you see?”
“What?”
“I don’t really know. But let’s find out. What did you say when I told you that I had some questions for you?”
“I said that no one is ever convicted for asking questions.”
The mirror shook violently, even as the Wizard of the Crow tried, with both hands, to rest it on the table.
“When you say that no one is ever convicted for asking questions, what do you mean?”
“Even a little child would know what I am talking about,” Sikiokuu said, resenting the wizard for seemingly belittling his intelligence.
“The mirror is not a little child. And it wants to know.”
“Okay Okay. I am saying that one is never prosecuted in a court of law for asking questions. You don’t put a person in prison for asking questions.”
The mirror responded by shaking so uncontrollably that it was with much difficulty that the Wizard of the Crow prevented it from flying toward Sikiokuu.
“Why is it shaking so? What have I said to upset it so?” asked a frightened Sikiokuu.
“Mr. Minister. You have to look into your heart. Are you very sure that one is never prosecuted and convicted for asking questions? Even in Aburlria?”
Sikiokuu thought about the question. He was beginning to grow a little concerned about the wizard and the mirror.
“Well, sometimes we do actually imprison people for asking questions, but only those that question established truths or that undermine the rule of law or how this country is governed.”
The mirror became still. “The mirror has stopped shaking,” said the Wizard of the Crow as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I told you to listen to my questions carefully. You must answer truthfully, for you have seen that a mirror is not something to be trifled with. Does this mirror belong to you?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the only one who uses it?”
“Why?”
“What did I tell you? A mirror is so ordinary, and yet it is a most incredible instrument. A mirror captures shadows of ourselves. Shadows that pass through the mirror don’t go away. Traces remain, reflections of ourselves, our hearts, the effects of our actions on ourselves. The only problem is that shadows can intermingle, preventing now one, now another, from being seen clearly. This could very well be the case with this mirror if others have touched it. In addition, Mr. Minister, there might be some shadows you don’t want seen by eyes other than your own. That’s why I am asking whether others besides you have used this mirror. But if you don’t mind my seeing their faces, it is all the same to me. I am very discreet.”
Sikiokuu recalled the faces of the women, especially other people’s wives, to whom he had made love in his bedroom. One of them had turned out to have been a regular bed-maker for the Ruler. The Ruler was very protective of his bed-makers. He did not want to know of any other person having touched them before or after. How many husbands had he exiled abroad, giving them jobs far away, that he might have unfettered access to the woman? One person, a prominent businessman, had lost his head for dating, and boasting about it, a lady known to be one of the Ruler’s favorite bed-makers. Without further ado, Sikiokuu launched to grab the mirror.
“I will get you another one,” he said.
Again Sikiokuu dashed into another room, looking for a mirror that only he had used, and brought it to the Wizard of the Crow.
“And you are now absolutely sure that you are the only one who has used this mirror?”
“I am not one hundred percent sure. But let’s try it.”
“And you know that traces of your own shadow have been retained in the mirror?”
“Where am I going to get a mirror that I have not used before? Divine with the mirror you now have and let me deal with the consequences.”
“You know that if you lie or don’t answer questions honestly you may interfere with the search for the object of your pursuit?”
“I will answer all your questions, but remember that I am not here to take a
