focus and then faded away. Faces of great djinns snapped into view, one after another, faster than Astron could follow. Then the flickering stopped. A single image remained for him to view.
Astron stared at what he saw. A slight demon somehow familiar seemed to frown back from the plane of the sprites. About the figure was a clutter of trays and jars. In the apparent distance stood a gnarled old devil that looked exactly like Palodad. He saw the second demon scratch absently at a pockmarked cheek with a hand clutching a metal sphere and he whirled to see Palodad do the same.
Astron spun back to look at the vision, took a step forward and extended his arm. The image on the wall copied his motions. He touched his forehead and bared his filed-down fangs in a grotesque grin, watching in fascination as the face staring at him responded in kind.
'How is this possible?' Astron asked. 'For all of demonkind, none of us cast a reflection.'
'Truly not.' Palodad smiled. 'Light is altered when it is scattered from our bodies. It subsequently can be adsorbed but not reflected again.' He waved his arm at the wall. 'What you observe here is merely what I have instructed my sprites to do. They watch how you move and then each glows in the required hue and intensity to form an image that mimics exactly. They form a precise copy so that you see yourself as you appear to others.'
Astron looked back to the wall. He straightened to full height and squared his shoulders, staring intently at what he had never seen before. His head was oval and symmetrically formed, with the small knobs where the horns of his brothers would be. No tufts of hair grew from the delicate swirl of his ears, and on the supple pale flesh only a hint of scaling was visible in the glow of the sprite light. The eyes were deeply set and the nose and lips a trifle large, but as he had said, without close scrutiny he could pass for a native in the realm of men. It was for these features that he had found favor with Elezar, he knew. The prince himself was unlike most demonkind and, rather than minimize the difference, he flaunted it.
'Evidently in the grand scheme of things,' Palodad said, 'there was need to collect more than just superficials about you, cataloguer. That is why the image is so sharp and clear. Look to your left. There is more that can be displayed than physical form.'
Astron watched a second pulsing of color next to his reflection. It quickly distilled into the image of a brood- lair, with pieces of broken shell littered among the coarse grasses. Four tiny djinns, tufts of down still clinging to rapidly flapping wings, danced above the lair, while one smaller demon cowered in the straw. With a shock, Astron realized what he was witnessing. No sound accompanied the animation, but he remembered the shrieks an era ago as his brothers had swooped down upon him, claws gleaming sharp. Even worse, he recalled, was the laughter as they turned aside at the last instant, barely avoiding contact. The two more precocious of his brothers already had felt the first intuitive grasp of weaving and formed bolts of crackling pain that they sprayed upon Astron's back as they sped by.
Astron clinched his long, slender fingers as the memory of impotency flooded through him. Four brothers, all splendorous djinns, and he with no more power than a lowly sprite, able to convert the air he breathed into food and water and nothing more.
But before Astron could dwell further on the memory, the image formed by the glowsprites shimmered and shifted. He saw himself half grown, eyes wide with membranes pulled back as he examined the object he delicately cradled in his hands. The devil who stood next to him in the image had his arms folded across his chest and a face showing uncompromising pride. Astron remembered that he had not cared.
Acknowledging the magnitude of the feat that brought condensed matter of such quality through the flame had not been in his thoughts at all. Slowly he had leafed through the delicate sheets that were stitched along one side, studying intently the rows and rows of markings and occasional drawings of other objects equally strange. Some he had recognized-coins, belt buckles, forks; a random sampling of things retrieved by other demons on their journeys through the flame. And for some of these he suddenly had understood their use and meaning from the context in which they were drawn.
Astron nodded his head as he watched. He remembered the electric thrill that had arched down his spine. Who among all of demonkind would have guessed that the cylindrical fingercap guarded a human's fingertip against pricks from the tiny sword and trailing thread that bound together two pieces of cloth.
There was more merit than mere mass in an object fetched from beyond the flame, he had realized. There was knowledge as well, knowledge that might be of use to a prince who wished to astound his peers. And with knowledge came stature and regard, even for a djinn without wings or the ability to weave.
'All the artifacts that I possess,' he remembered he had said, looking up quickly at the devil at his side. 'The web of the spider, the pollen of a flower, everything in exchange for this.'
As the trade was made, the image dissolved. When it refocused, Astron recognized a scene of only months ago as measured in the realm of men. He stood in his hood and cloak beside a cottage hearth; only the last embers remained of the evening fire. At a table across the room, a human serving girl stared in Astron's direction, her eyes wide and unblinking, totally under his command.
'What are your instructions, master, while I wait for you to return,' she had said.
Astron remembered his hesitation. He knew full well what would happen to her when she was found after his departure. Men professed to feel compassion, but they dealt with demon possession with a zeal that was hard to understand. And she was not a wizard, boldly reaching into the flame to test her will against Astron or his kin. Only by accident had she looked too long into the hypnotic dance of the fire and allowed Astron to pass through the barrier between the realms.
Elezar would be satisfied enough with what has been learned, Astron had decided. The purpose of the little orb attached to the side of the door had been perfectly explained. None of the other princes would guess that it was to be rotated before being pulled.
'Return to the way you were,' Astron had said. 'I release you from my control. The prince cannot care about one mind more or less. Besides us, who in the two realms would know?'
The scene began to fade. Astron turned away to face Palodad. 'How did you find out?' he asked. 'I have told no one of what I did. Indeed, why even bother to record my affairs, rather than the lives of the princes that rule?'
'I have the relevant information on them as well,' Palodad said. 'Do not prejudge your role in the scheme of things. I am, after all, the one who reckons.'
The old demon squinted his good eye at Astron, 'The more interesting question is not how, but why. Why did you release the human female when you had no need? Even without wings, one would not expect such behavior from the clutch brother of a splendorous djinn.'
'I-I do not know,' Astron said. The vividness of the memories was unsettling. The impact of all he had seen began to numb his mind. His thoughts started to go off balance. He felt his limbs tighten. Was his the madness that came with the visit to Palodad? Was his lair so overwhelming and knowledge so great that one could not hope to keep his own clear thoughts in the old devil's presence?
Astron flicked down the membranes over his eyes and concentrated on the comforts of his own den. He had not one book by now but three. Some of the strange symbology that accompanied the pictures he was beginning to understand. Of all of Elezar's cataloguers, he was held in the highest regard. He had pledged to his prince and had a mission to perform, regardless of the great powers exhibited by the old demon at his side. And the results were needed quickly, before Gaspar lost his patience and it was all too late.
Astron firmed his resolve. He would not waver. Digging his shortened nails into his palms, he slowly, deliberately retracted his membranes and looked at Palodad.
'Questions concerning Astron, the cataloguer, will be for another time,' he said. 'I am here now by demand of Elezar, the prince.'
Palodad did not immediately answer. He pointed silently at the imaging screen indicating that he could show more, his lips curved in the hint of a mocking smile.
But Astron held his determination. The urgency of his visit locked firmly in place. He willed his thoughts to calmness and waited for the devil to speak.
'Questions concerning the one who walks will be for when?' Palodad asked at last.
'For another time,' Astron said.
'Yes, for another time, another time,' Palodad echoed. He kicked one of the metal trays aside and again dissolved in a fit of laughter. 'There is no getting away from it,' he gasped. 'It is always a matter of time.'
The devil clutched his sides and crumpled into a ball at Astron's feet. Rolling about on the hard stone slab, he
