CHAPTER 66

The sun was already approaching its zenith when they have passed the guards of the clofoel of Might at the entrance to the Moon Tower. The narrow spiral staircase forced them to go single-file. The clofoel of Tranquility went first, easily taking every other step; of course, he was not afraid of the Troll following him and had not even handcuffed him, relying on a Web spell instead. Milady Eornis brought up the rear, going over the details of her plan for one last time. Yes, there’s a chance of success, but it’s really minuscule, and the worst part is that everything depends on a myriad of coincidences, rather than her own abilities. In any event, her long game with the clofoel of Tranquility had reached its end – only one of them will be coming out of this tower, with only chance determining which one…

The top chamber of the Moon Tower was a round room about ten yards in diameter, the Mirror its only furniture. The crystal was set in a mithril setting with curved legs a foot and a half long, so that the whole thing resembled a small table. Six elongated windows offered an excellent view of Caras Galadhon. It’s funny, Eornis reflected in passing, that this Troll is probably the only Man to ever see the real sight of the Elvish capital, but he won’t relate it to anyone. Those guests that we intend to release are never allowed beyond the talien next to Nimrodel, so those simpletons leave believing that we actually live on those perches…

“Bring him up to the Mirror, clofoel of Tranquility, but don’t remove the Web just yet…”

Only after uttering these words did the clofoel of the World realize that the Mirror was, indeed, in a bad way. The crystal was ink-black, the blackness lit up by pulses of scarlet light at regular intervals; it felt distinctly like the Mirror was emitting one endless silent scream of terror and pain. Maybe it’s not good for it to be close to a palantír? she wondered belatedly. Whatever, can’t change anything at this point. Please endure this a bit longer, she thought at the Mirror; this will all be over in a few minutes. As if in response, the crystal almost exploded from inside with a singularly powerful scarlet flash which for some reason reminded her of the Eternal Fire… The thought came and went as other matters occupied her attention: the clofoel of Tranquility had apparently noticed (felt, to be precise) that the room was not as empty as it seemed. According to her plan, that was exactly what he was supposed to do, without any prompting from her. Imagine the irony of relying on one’s mortal enemy’s intuition and professionalism!

The clofoel of Tranquility had thoroughly scanned the room and saw nothing suspicious, as was to be expected. It’s useless to search for anything magically here – the Mirror generates a magical field of such intensity as to drown those of all other objects. A totally empty room and a low ‘table’ on thin legs… Could I have hidden an object here, a small one? Yes, I could have… sure I could! Wait – a small object? What did the Troll say? “About the size of a child’s head!” So that’s why you wanted to get up to the Mirror!..

“Clofoel of the World! You’re under arrest for treason. Stand against the wall!”

They stood facing each other, the Mirror between them; the clofoel of Tranquility had his sword out – he was not about to give that snake any chances, she was mortally dangerous as it was.

“Unclip the dagger from your belt… now the stiletto in your left sleeve… Kick them away with your foot! Now, we’ll talk. The magic object that Star fool’s dancers can’t find is attached to the bottom of the ‘table,’ right? One has to drop on all fours before the Mirror to see it – surely no one will think of that. It’s impossible to find it magically – the dancers are like a dog that has to find a perfumed handkerchief hidden in a sack of crushed pepper. An excellent idea, my compliments! By the way, what is it?”

“A palantír.”

“Whoa!” He apparently never expected that. “Whose gift is it – the Enemy’s?”

“No, Aragorn’s.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s the truth. His Majesty Elessar Elfstone is a farsighted Man, he never puts all his eggs in one basket. You think you’re the only who talked to him privately back in January? Get rid of me, and he won’t help you in your game against the Lady.”

“You’re wrong, my dear: the fewer one’s allies, the more valuable they become, so he’s not going anywhere. You, however, can look forward to a real education under the Mound: the boys there are quite creative, and I’ll make sure you won’t die too quickly.”

“To do that you’ll have to offer proof of my treason, which means turning the palantír over to the Council. Would it not be better to keep it and turn me into your agent in the Lady’s retinue? I can offer a lot, you know.”

“All right, enough talking! Face the wall, now! Sit down on the floor! On the floor, I said!

How did you attach it – with magic?”

“No, just the sticky ankasar juice,” she replied, and then added pleadingly, staring at the wall: “Please listen to me…”

“Quiet!”

The last word came out slightly muffled: apparently, the clofoel of Tranquility behind her back had already bent over, feeling the bottom side of the crystal – meaning that it was time.

While pretending to conduct a pitiful loser’s haggle, Eornis had been pushing through the dense crashing waves of the Mirror’s magic field to the sticky gray ropes of the Web spell binding the Troll. Every spell carries an imprint of its caster, making him the only one able to lift it – doing so is a mortal danger to all others, and usually useless, too. Fortunately, the Web is one of the simplest spells, purely technical and almost bereft of a personality imprint, so it’s worth a risk. Now everything will hinge on what the freed Troll will do. Of course, he’s been broken by knowledge that he had somehow told everything he knew to the enemy; the question is – how broken? If he had turned into jelly, I’m finished; but if he’s still a Man and would like to at least pay back the one who tricked him into a betrayal, I can help him. I help him, he helps me…

Suddenly Eornis ripped at the Web the way one rips a bandage stuck to a wound – in one swift movement, the only possibility here. A horrible pain knocked her out for a moment; so this is what lifting another’s spell is like, even when it’s a trifle like the Web being removed by an Elvish clofoel… By the time she surfaced from her unconsciousness a few seconds later, it was all over – the clofoel of Tranquility lay prone on the floor near the Mirror, his head turned at an unnatural angle, as if trying to see something behind his back.

The Troll must have fallen on the Elf kneeling before the Mirror from behind and simply wrung his neck with bare hands; he was now on a windowsill, clearly about to escape, which Eornis had no intention of stopping. She smirked: the esteemed clofoel of Tranquility had released the Troll and imprudently looked away, while I had no time to do anything. It happened so fast, esteemed Members of the Council! I am eternally grateful to the late clofoel: had he not volunteered to accompany me, undoubtedly I would have been dead…

Kumai had only a split second to sweep his gaze over the amazing panorama of the Elvish capital while taking his last step; all those towers and suspension bridges fell on him like a theatrical decoration while six-sided flagstones raced at him. His last thought was: what if those bastards piece me together again?

Perhaps they would have (who really knows the limits of the Elves’ power?), but they had no time left for that or anything else. The sun was already at zenith, so Eornis took the palantír out of its protective silver-shot sack and brought it right next to the maddened Mirror, which looked fit to gallop away on its bent little legs. After waiting the prescribed time, the clofoel of the World brought together the two orange sparks within the magic crystal, thus switching it to ‘send-receive’ mode…