“What then?”
_”We require a Dyson variation on the mirror equation.”_
“Show me.”
Walls of mirrors shot up on all sides about me, the guisel, and Kergma, but excluding Rhanda. We rose into the air and drifted toward the center of the sphere. Our reflections came at us from everywhere.
_”Now. But you must keep it from touching the walls.”_
“Save your equation. I may want to do something with it by and by.”
I struck the dormant guisel with the Vorpal Sword. Again, it emitted a bell-like tone and remained quiescent.
_”No,”_ Kergma said. _”Let it thaw.”_
So I waited until it began to stir, meaning that it would be able to attack me soon. Nothing is ever easy. From outside, I still heard the faint sounds of singing.
The guisel recovered more quickly than I had anticipated. But I swung and lopped off half its head, which seemed to divide itself into tissue-thin images which then flew away in every direction.
“Caloo! Callay!” I cried, swinging again and removing a long section of tissue from its right side, which repeated the phenomenon of the ghosting and the flight. It came on again and I cut again. Another chunk departed from its twisting body in the same fashion. Whenever its writhing took it near a wall, I intervened with my body and sword, driving it back toward the center and hacking at or slicing it.
Again and again it came on or flipped toward the wall. Each time my response was similar. But it did not die. I fought it til but a tip of its writhing tail moved before me.
“Kergma,” I said then, “we’ve sent most of it down infinite lines. Now, can you revise the equation? Then I’ll find sufficient mass with the spikard to allow you to create another guisel for me–one that will return to the sender of this one and regard that person as prey.”
_”I think so,”_ Kergma said. _”I take it you left that final piece for the new one to eat?”_
“Yes, that was my thinking.”
And so it was done. When the walls came down, the new guisel–black, its stripes red and yellow–was rubbing against my ankles like a cat. The singing stopped.
“Go and seek the hidden one,” I said, “and return the message.”
It raced off, passing a curve and vanishing.
“What have you done?” Rhanda asked me. So I told her.
“The hidden one will now consider you the most dangerous of his rivals,” she said, “if he lives. Probably he will increase his efforts against you, in subtlety as well as violence.”
“Good,” I said. “That is my hope. I’d like to force a confrontation. He will probably not feel safe in your world now either, never knowing when a new guisel might come a-hunting.”
“True,” she said. “You have been my champion,” and she kissed me.
Just then, out of nowhere, a paw appeared and fell upon the blade I held. Its opposite waved two slips of paper before me. Then a soft voice spoke: “You keep borrowing that sword without signing for it. Kindly do that now, Merlin. The other slip is for last time.” I found a ballpoint beneath my cloak and signed as the rest of the cat materialized. “That’ll be $40,” it said then. “It costs 20 bucks for each hour or portion of an hour, to vorp.”
I dug around in my pockets and came up with the fees. The cat grinned and began to fade. “Good doing business with you,” it said through the smile. “Come back soon. The next drink’s on the house. And bring Luke. He’s a great baritone.”
I noticed as it faded that the shroudling family had also vanished.
Kregma moved nearer. _”Where are the others–Glait and Gryll?”_
“I left Grait in a wood,” I replied, “though he may well be back in the Windmaster’s vase in Gramble’s museum in the Ways of Sawall by now. If you see him, tell him that the bigger thing has not eaten me–and he will drink warm milk with me one night and hear more tales yet. Gryll, I believe, is in the employ of my Uncle Suhuy.”