Lord Hasan beckoned them deeper into the room until finally stopping in front of a tall cabinet. He opened it, revealing a mirror and nothing else.
Hector was still confused and waiting for answers from Garovel.
‘Have a closer look,’ was all Garovel said.
Hector did so. And indeed, he soon noticed something. The mirror. He could see himself in it, but there was a kind of fog behind the reflection. And maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him, but it looked like the fog was moving.
His reflection was strange, too. It mirrored his movements, but it did it too slowly, as if the image were on a delay.
‘The fuck?’ thought Hector.
‘Creeped out yet?’ asked Garovel.
‘A little. What is this thing?’ Yeah, that fog was definitely moving, Hector decided. He backed away from the mirror again and saw that Lord Hasan had pulled up a chair in order to sit in front of the thing. The man was also holding a candle in one hand and a book in the other.
Lord Hasan said something in Valgan.
‘He said you can sit wherever you like while we wait,’ said Emiross.
‘Wait for what?’ asked Hector.
‘Patience, dear boy,’ said Garovel with the echo of privacy. Then he turned to Emiross and said publicly, ‘Pen and paper?’
‘On the table by the window,’ Emiross said.
Garovel nodded and floated over to it. Hector followed suit and sat down there, still awaiting instruction. The window next to him didn’t lead outside, instead offering a pleasant view of an underground courtyard. Hector spotted a few Rainlords conversing by the central fountain. Blackburns, he was pretty sure.
‘Okay, Hector,’ said Garovel privately, ‘now you need to write a letter to Roman.’
Hector blinked. ‘A letter? Like a snail-mail letter?’
‘Heh. I mean, obviously, I could tell you, but what would be the fun in that?’