povídka

There were mirrors everywhere, making the place a crazy house of dizzying refraction: mirrors on the ceiling, mirrors on the walls, mirrors in the angles where the walls met, the ceiling and the floor, even little eddies of mirror dust periodically blown on gusts of air through the room so that all the bizarre distortions, fracturings, and dislocations of image that were bouncing around the place would from time to time coalesce in a shimmering h…

Standing at the narrow window of his bedchamber early on the morning of the / second day of his new life as a captive, looking out at the blood-red waters / of the Sea of Barbirike far below, Aithin Furvain heard the bolt that sealed / his apartment from the outside being thrown back. He glanced quickly around / and saw the lithe catlike form of his captor, the bandit chief Kasinibon, / come sidling in. Furvain turned toward the window again. / “As I was say…