Victoria Sa-Maste

In my dream, there was a sea, warm and gentle. There was the glare of the sun on the water, the flickering shadows of seagulls, the multicolored sails. And I was there somewhere, swimming,  running, and flying. I enjoyed the sunshine and the wind and the salty splashes on my face.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder and brought me back from the dream to reality.

 I had fallen asleep in the library, right at the table, among the scrolls and heavy ancient folios. It had happened to me many times before.

I raised my head and ran my hands over my face. The stubble crunched under my fingers, tickling my palms. 

"You need a rest, Archie," Angrew admitted, sitting down in the chair in front of me, "you don't care about yourself."

I waved my hand carelessly. "If I can't be stabbed with a sword, chronic sleep deprivation is hardly too harmful."

 "Who knows?” he shrugged.  “I've never seen the inhabitants of the Looking Glass tired, but for you, it's become the norm."

I brushed my hair with both hands and leaned back in my chair.

"There's very little time left and we're still in the same place. This letter," I waved my hand at the table, "has nothing concrete in it either.”

"There are three quarters of the library to search,"  the prince pointed out.

"And less than a month to do it," I stood up and stretched. "I think we should take another look at Merlin's personal notes."

"Perhaps," Angrew agreed, "but you need to eat first."

"Jock will bring me something to eat," I replied.

 "No way!" exclaimed my friend. "Merlin's papers aren't going anywhere, and you’d better have an hour and a half of distraction. They say a fresh mind can produce good ideas."

"You're quoting me!" I laughed.

"Sometimes you have good ideas," he chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. "Let's go! They've cooked something really delicious for dinner."

On my way to the dining room, I stopped at my apartment to shave and change.

Six years had passed. Six long years had passed since I was imprisoned in the world of the Looking Glass. It wasn't easy, though this place was not so bad - beautiful ladies, not burdened with excessive modesty, many interesting interlocutors, good fencing, excellent cuisine. But those days were gone.

On the wall above my bed, hung a sheet of paper on which, like a true Robinson, I marked the days of my confinement. There was also marked the X-day, the day of the Great Full Moon. That was the limit, the deadline, the point of the last hope. After that day, there would be no Arthur Corney  left in the real world, which meant that the main condition would never be fulfilled. It’s hard to believe, there were only twenty-one days left until that day.

And nothing had changed! Okay, we had managed to do something. We had restored most of the ornaments. Actually, I wasn't sure if we had done it right, but we did our best. All that was left was to bring the lines to life. That was where we got stuck!

Who were "we"? Myself, Angrew, Puddigate, Louis and Roge. All the rest, as was expected, became disillusioned and gave up in the first two or three months, when it became clear that there was no imminent progress.

Even I had given up a few times over the years, and  hadn't set foot in the hall or in the library for months. But Angrew would come up with another idea, and I would light up again and go back to work, each time hoping that now, just as soon as we finished this corner, the passage would open. 

 After the ornament was finished, but the passage remained closed, I threw all my energy into seeking the last, small but important piece of the plan that promised a path to freedom. Since then, I had become obsessed, giving up all my usual pleasures and falling out of favor with the fine ladies, since I spent all my time in the library, depriving them of my company.

Well, if I failed, the ladies would have me forever, and if I won, they could find more interesting company.

A week earlier, I had celebrated a kind of anniversary, or  whatever you want to call it. It was on this day that Norn had offered to find the legendary Sword of Oel for him. The circle was complete.

And the previous day, if I was not mistaken, the Faceless Destroyer had taken power in Irrat.

It was such a strange feeling to know for sure what was going on, but to have no chance to influence the situation, to warn, to change anything.

Sometimes I thought about what would happen if I didn't find the way back before the Great Full Moon. Not to me – with me it was clear. What would happen on the other side of the Mirror? Would Alex be able to get the rest of the Keys? What would happen if he met the Faceless One? Would the Lace hold?

I had no answers to these questions.  So I pushed such thoughts away and tried to concentrate on the tasks at hand.

I would make it. I had to get back!

Jock persuaded me to take a bath, and so I was clean, shaved, perfumed, and dressed in one of those extravagant outfits I had grown accustomed to over the years. This time it was something burgundy with gold embroidery and an ivory undershirt.

I was just buttoning up a long row of little jeweled buttons when Jock flew into the room panting: "Your Highness! Hurry up!"

Even though everyone in the Looking Glass knew I was as much a prince as Angrew was a loader, they still addressed me as “Your Highness” and “My Lord”. The habit was a great thing!

I turned to him. "What is it? Am I late for dinner again?"

"Yes. No. It's about the Mirror."

"What about the Mirror?" I asked.

"The Mirror has been activated. The next prisoner will be here soon. You need to be in the Pentagonal Hall."

"Me? Why?"

"You are the last to pass through the Mirror. It's your turn to meet the new one. Hurry! The process has begun."

I didn't ask any more questions and started running. My apartment was a long way from the Guard-Ancha and besides, I had to climb the stairs. Jock didn't lag behind me, and instructed me how to meet the newcomer. Most of his words slipped past my ears, because I kept remembering the day I'd passed through the Mirror myself. The despair, the anger, the hatred that had possessed me then. Mara's wild eyes, the burning candles... Again, the despair and the rage.

"Do you remember everything, my lord?" Jock asked me as we reached the door.

"Of course," I nodded.

"Go on. He's already there."

I opened the door and took a step into the Pentagon Hall.

Not him, but her. Fragile, small, dressed in pants and a green blouse, she stood with her back to me, pounding desperately on the glass. The wave of copper-gold hair swept down her back.

"Don't do it," I said softly. "You can break the Mirror."

She turned abruptly and looked at me with crazy eyes.

My heart jumped to my throat and stuck there, blocking my breath. I forgot all the words I wanted to say to the newcomer. I looked and recognized her and couldn't believe my eyes. Because it couldn't be true. Or...

But how? What magic?! Gemma... Alive and unharmed, except for a little scared. 

"Arthur?" she uttered, looking at me with her eyes wide open and filled with tears.

The next thing I knew, I was holding her in my arms. She was alive and warm, and her tears were the balm that healed my lingering wounds.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered between sobs. "Kordgan said you were gone.”

I lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "We were both deceived. Let's talk about this later. Come on. We're expected."

"Expected?" she asked in surprise. "Who is waiting for us?"

"There are many people here. I'll tell you on the way."

 Gemma gently pulled away from my embrace, walked back to the Mirror, and began to fix her hair. 

I smiled at her and asked, "By the way, how should I introduce you to the community?"

She hesitated, looked away. "I am Princess Victoria Sa-Maste of Irrat."

She paused, as I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. I already knew what she would say next: "I am married, Arthur."

At that moment, I wished I had left her precious husband in the same place and condition as he was when I first met him. Alex's wife! Oh, my God!

"Let’s go, Your Highness," I said in an emphatically formal tone, "we can't keep a society as splendid as ours waiting."

A few hours later, I was back in the comforting silence of the library, having barely endured that endless lunch with Gemma sitting across from me when there was no way I could not see her face and hear her voice. I was glad to get away. Besides, I really had a lot to do.

I put another pile of heavy books on the table and opened one: "On Some Peculiarities of Mass Transfer between Parallel Worlds". I placed the mirror in front of the book so that I could read the reflected letters comfortably. I did this for six years, it was much better than analyzing mirrored scribbles. 

I started to read, but I couldn't understand a word. I tried again, but my brain refused to work.

I only saw her beloved face framed by the red hair and remembered the words she had said: "I'm married, Arthur."

It hurt. 

"Don't think about her," I told myself. "Just forget about it and do something."

Easier said than done. I tried to read the text again and again, but I couldn't make sense of it. 

With a clatter, I closed the book and headed for the exit. I hoped Louis or Roge were not too busy. I was looking for an outlet for my anger, and good fencing would come in handy!

At the door I bumped into Gemma.

"It's you?" I exhaled in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Angrew told me I could find you here," she explained. "We need to talk."

"I honestly don't know what we need to talk about, Princess!"

"Damn you, Archie! Don't act like a child."

"Sorry, but I have a rule about not flirting with my friends' wives. And you're too close for me to hold back!"

"What? That's nonsense. You don't even know Alexander."

"I do know him," I said, "but that doesn't matter now. Excuse me, I have to work."

I turned and went to my table. "Go away!" I pleaded in my mind. "Get offended and go away!"

She didn't. She followed me to the table, and as I sat down in the chair, she pushed the books away and sat down on the tabletop, blocking my escape route.

"You won't be able to ignore me forever," she said.

I raised my head and looked into her eyes. "Give me some time to come to my senses."

"You have two minutes,  egoist that you are," she snorted.

I sighed. "That was really selfish, sorry. I remember that feeling after you went through the Mirror. I have a rough idea of what you've been through in the last twenty-four hours. You need to know: Alex is fine. He is alive and free.”

Her face lit up with a moment of joy that was immediately replaced by disbelief. Gemma grabbed my hand: "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I was there, with him," I said, raising my hand to keep her from asking questions. "I'm not lying to you, and I'm not crazy. I can explain everything."

Then I told her the whole story, explaining how I had gotten into the Looking Glass world.

"That's how it happened," I finished my story.

She nodded absentmindedly and asked, "What happened then?"

"What happened to Alex?" I shrugged. "I don't know, I never saw him again."

"Not to him, silly," she chuckled. "I'm asking about you."

"Nothing interesting, actually. I went back in time six years, fought a demon, found the Great Master's Key. Then I met Morgana and got trapped here. That's all."

"Really?" she asked with a smile.

"The rest is unimportant," I replied a little more sharply than I should have. For some reason, I was still angry with her.

Gemma looked away and sighed deeply. "I think I need to explain myself," she said quietly but firmly.

"You don't," I waved my hand. "Everything's clear."

"Nothing is clear," she protested. "I have to tell you the truth or you'll think badly of me for the rest of your life."

"So many years have passed. There is nothing to discuss!" I exclaimed irritably, though a bit falsely. I was curious, but at the same time I didn't want to hear the details of her and Alex's private life.

She put her hand on my cheek, forcing me to look into her eyes.

"We've never lied to each other, Arthur," Gemma said seriously. "I want there to be no more unspoken words between us."

I tilted my head. "You're right. I am listening."

She was silent for a few minutes, looking over my head. There was a portrait  of Yurhek, the Tamer of the Great Shadow, on the wall behind my back, but I doubted she was thinking of that hero.

"Back in the Twilight Zone," she said finally, "after you were wounded, I thought they were going to kill us. But suddenly the Horned Ones were gone. I dragged you to the gate and called for help. Then, back at the base, Kordgan told me you hadn't survived the operation. He said that you..." her voice trailed off, "you died. I didn't believe him, I wanted to see you. I was so stunned! I only came to my senses at home, in Oeldiv. My father was in my room. He said he understood my grief, but I had to pull myself together and put the personal aside, because a terrible thing had happened, a tragedy for the family and for all of Oeldiv".

Gemma fell silent again for a long time. Her fingers were fiddling with a pendant in the shape of a golden crescent, studded with rubies, on a long, twisted chain. I'd seen something like that somewhere before.

"About the same time the Horned Ones attacked us, my sister killed herself," she said quietly.

"Your sister?" I was shocked. "That Lady Perfect?"

I had heard a lot about that lady: Gemma had once talked much about her family in general and her sister in particular. She called her sister the Perfect Lady of the Light, mentioning that she had all the qualities that were valued in Oeldiv and that Gemma herself lacked - restraint, tolerance, mercy, wisdom, and so on. Her sister served the Light - she had taken up some kind of service - and she was passionate about it. In general, in my opinion, she had not a single reason to commit suicide.

"She was discovered by the maid when the latter came to wake her up in the morning. Too many sleeping pills. They found a note on the bedside table: 'This is unbearable.’ Nothing else. It was horrible!"

"Oh, I see."

"You don't," she shook her head. "In Oeldiv, such a thing would be considered impossible. Everyone is happy, at least officially. And suddenly something like this! They wouldn't have been so surprised if it had been me," she grinned bitterly, "I've always been a black sheep. But they didn't expect Vic to do it. But she did. And then Father said that only he and Kordgan knew about my sister's death.”

 "What about the maid?"

"They altered her memories and sent her on a well-deserved vacation," Gemma said stiffly. "Our pious men can be very cynical and very practical when they need to be. Officially, Victoria was alive and well, traveling to the inner worlds of the Lace. That's how it goes."

"But they couldn't keep her death hidden indefinitely."

"Oh, they had a plan. I think it was Uncle Kordgan's idea. My father was deeply grieved and couldn’t think of anything else. In short, they decided to replace one sister with another!"

"How?" I couldn't understand the idea. 

"Easy! The king is dead - long live the king! Victoria was too much a part of the Quard-Maste's political calculations and the subtle game Kordgan was playing with the Irrats. Her death meant the end of my uncle's ambitious plans, and he could not allow that to happen. So Victoria had to live! Even after her death. Even at the cost of her younger sister's life. They decided that I should become Victoria," Gemma sighed, looking at me with a pleading expression in her eyes. "Father spent a lot of time explaining to me the importance of this change for Oeldiv, for the Lace. Under other circumstances he would never have succeeded, but at that moment I didn't care how I would live, or if I would live at all. I said yes.”

I didn't tell her about my suspicions about her uncle. Instead, I asked, "How could you do it? You had said you and your sister were not alike. Anyone could see the change."

"You're right," she agreed, "it would be impossible in Oeldiv. But in Irrat, no one knew her by sight."

"Now I see," I muttered.

"Victoria was betrothed in absentia to Alexander Sa-Maste of Irrat. They did not know each other and were not too eager to fulfill their childhood assignment. As far as I know, my sister regarded the engagement as a formality, nothing more, and had no intention of marrying at all, being quite happy with her priests and shrines. But then a messenger from King Mabert appeared and demanded that Victoria be brought to Irrat. Otherwise, the Sa-Maste would renege on all previous agreements.” 

"And then she killed herself?" I assumed.

Gemma nodded. “She seemed terrified at the prospect of leaving the Temple of Light and moving to the Dark Edge. Or maybe she was just afraid of men...”

"And you went to Irrat instead of her, didn’t you?" I admitted somberly.

"What else could I do?" Gemma said defiantly. "Besides, I became the Keeper of Secrets after my sister's death and couldn't ignore my duties before Oeldiv. I left immediately after the funeral. Victoria was consigned to the flames under my name, I was there, my face hidden under a veil," she shivered. "It was a terrible feeling."

"Kordgan told me not to go to the funeral. If only I hadn't obeyed him."

Gemma fiddled with a lock of her hair thoughtfully and looked at me with a very strange expression.

"I have just understood," she slid off the table, crouched next to my chair, and grabbed my hands. "It was Kordgan. It was he who did it!"

"Gemma, what are you talking about?" I asked.

"He had ordered the Horned Ones to kill you!"

"The Horned Patrol doesn't obey Kordgan. How could he do that?"

"I don't know how, but it's not without him," she declared unequivocally.

I stroked her flaming hair and said softly, "It doesn't matter now." I thought for a moment and added, "Nothing matters here.”

"You've become a philosopher," she smiled sadly and slid into my lap like a light snake, wrapping her arms around my neck, and hot drops rolled down my collar. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Don't say that, baby."

I hugged her and stroked her hair. She was another man's wife, the one I'd like to call my own. The only woman I ever truly loved, but forever not mine. It was agony, and it was happiness, and for some reason I wanted it to last as long as possible. And she cried and cried and finally fell silent and laid her head on my shoulder. Her curls tickled my face, and I was afraid to move so as not to disturb, not to frighten this miracle.

That was how Angrew found us when he entered the library to see how the work was going.

"Oh," he exclaimed hesitantly, "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's okay," Gemma said, lifting her head. "I assume you and Arthur have  a meeting here ? I won't bother you."

She stood up, stretched, found the mirror on the table, and started to fix her hair.

"Did you find anything interesting?" Angrew pointed at the books on my table.

"Actually, I didn't have time to look. I just don't think there's any point. The problem lies somewhere else." 

"I completely agree with you," Angrew nodded.

"What are you talking about?" Gemma wondered.

"It's a little complicated," Angrew replied, getting a deadly look from my lady.

"All right then. I think I'll take a look at the apartment I was promised. Who can show me the room?" Gemma said. 

I'd rather do it myself, but that would be a clear violation of the rules of the game called Looking Glass.

At that moment, two o'mirrors appeared, Jock and a woman of the same race.

"See you later," Gemma smiled, ran her hand down my back and left with her new servant.

"All the problems in the universe come from women," Angrew remarked, looking at the beautiful lady.

"This one is special," I replied thoughtfully.

"Then she is twice as dangerous," my wise friend patted me on the shoulder, "I know."

Who else would know but him... I had heard the prince's story from both Alex and Angrew himself, and I knew that the cause of all his troubles was definitely a woman. 

"If I understand correctly, this lady is your friend's wife," Angrew said. He knew my story very well. "But it looks like you two have more than just friendship."

I remembered what he had seen when he entered the library. Hell knows what it looked like!

"It's Gemma," I tried to explain. "For years I thought she was dead. I had no idea that Alexander's wife and the girl I loved were the same person."

Angrew nodded sympathetically. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I spread my arms. "I have no idea."

"Then let me give you some advice," Angrew went to the cupboard where the drinks were kept, poured some local alcohol into the glasses, and handed one to me. “Let's drink first."

So we did, and I felt better.

"Advice," Angrew continued. "Here in the Looking Glass world, the laws and morals of the real world don't matter. Officially, we're all dead, and the bond of marriage, if I remember correctly, is 'till death do us part’. So from that point of view, your beauty is as free as a bird, and nothing prevents your reunion. But," he raised his forefinger, "if we succeed and get out of here, she would be someone else's wife again, and her husband would be your companion. On the other hand, such circumstances do not stop anyone even in the real world, let alone in the Looking Glass."

"Good advice," I hummed, "What's the point?"

"The point?" he asked again. "No matter what you do, you still have bills to pay. Act so you won't regret it later."

"A certain philosopher said the exact opposite: do whatever you want, you'll regret it later anyway."

"That's a reason to drink," Angrew concluded and emptied his glass.

So he and I got drunk, each regretting his own. 

When I finally reached my apartment, I fell into bed without even taking off my shoes.