It all started with Daine's midwinter's gift.

Thayet, noticing that the fourteen year old was becoming more like a young woman than a child, had decided to give her something which most girls would have been delighted with: a tiny purse mirror. Whether or not the queen meant it as a snide joke was a matter of some debate in the banqueting hall that month – with Alanna making a point of asking if she had intended it as a gift for Numair, and not for his young student.

"He likes preening far more than she does," The knight gestured to the mage's peacock green robes with an exaggerated wince.

Standing beside her teacher, Daine looked like a drab brown sparrow. Her clothes fit well, because the animals tore them up so often that she was constantly being sent to the seamstresses. Her hair was tidy because if she didn't tie it back then the frizzy halo made it hard for her to see who was standing beside her, and her hands and face were washed because Numair had threatened to dump her into the horse trough. So far in her courtly life she had managed to look vaguely presentable due to such accidents and interventions, but with hardly any effort on her own part.

"Well, why should she fuss in front of a mirror?" Alanna asked, realising she wouldn't get a rise out of the queen. "She keeps herself tidy enough. I don't think she cares what she looks like."

"She will, one day." Thayet glanced sidelong at her friend. "Even you did, eventually."

"That's a malicious rumour and a lie." The Lioness planted her hands on her hips and pulled the ugliest face she could muster, when her husband wasn't in need of a glare. The queen hid a smile behind one creamy hand.

"I apologise. I must be recalling some other redhead fainting when she had her ears pierced."

"That part is especially untrue." Alanna gave up pulling faces and laughed. "Well, maybe you're right. I just wish the court painter had been nearby to sketch Daine's face when she unwrapped your present! I've never seen anyone look so bewildered."

In fact, Daine had been completely unaware that her face held any expression at all. She had opened the neat wooden case and seen the disk nestling carefully in a velvet wrapper, and if anything she had been terrified. It seemed expensive beyond words and... and otherworldly. If she had touched it, she thought, she would have spoiled it. In a panic, she drew back from the box and held her breath, hoping that the condensation from her surprised gasp hadn't touched the shining case.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Mari had asked, craning her neck to look inside.

"N...no." Daine shook her head and closed the box so quickly it slammed. Blushing, she smothered the gift back in its wrapping cloth and shoved it into her belt purse. Her stammered thanks to the queen was almost incomprehensible.

As soon as she knew she would not be missed for a few minutes, Daine fled back to her room and hid the mirror under her bed. The cats who napped in the cosy space complained loudly at being disturbed, until they discovered that the cloth the box was wrapped in made a delightful rasping sound when they dragged it back and forth on the floor rushes. By the time Daine got back from the Midwinter banquet, the box was halfway across the room.

"Oh!" She gasped, and dived to pick it up. Apart from a claw mark which no-one would own up to, it seemed to be unharmed. She sat on her bed and opened the case with nervous fingers, not realising that it was upside down. The mirror tumbled out and fell onto her blanket with a soft thud. Breathing shallowly, she unclipped the clasp and looked at the mirror.

It was beautiful. A string of seed pearls looped around the edges of a shining bronze disk, which shone so clearly that Daine knew it must be spelled.

She had seen the same spell in Numair's rooms, and had told him off for renewing it so often that one of the starlings she called into the room had flown into its unforgiving surface. Numair would willingly tint his glass window panes unsettling colours to stop such accidents from happening, but when it came to the mirror he was childishly stubborn. It was expensive, and he had saved up for it with his players' wages, and it made the room look bigger, and... and ... and...

...and, after a string of heated arguments, he had grudgingly started draping his robe over the looking glass.

"I don't know why you're making such a fuss." Daine pointed out, adding rather pertly, "It's not like you ever wear your mage robe."

"It could snow." He said stiffly, and opened a book to a particularly difficult page. "Have you memorised this yet, Magelet?"

"No!" She folded her arms, refusing to let him sulk over something so churlish. "I've been too busy healing poor confused birds and working out how it can snow in the middle of summer!"

He scowled and muttered something under his breath. Daine opened her mouth to ask him to repeat what was clearly a very pointed insult when something tickled the back of her neck. She raised her hand to swat it away, and then shrieked when it slid down her spine. It was cold – very cold! When she lowered her hand the snowflake was already melting, but another flurry quickly landed in her palm. She looked up, blinking the flakes out of her eyes, to see that a tiny cloud was lurking in the ceiling rafters shedding snow wherever it drifted. Kit, fascinated, clambered up to the top of a cupboard and poked at it with one outstretched paw. A roll of thunder drifted across the pulsing cloud.

When she looked back down, Numair was wearing both his cloak and a very smug expression.

Daine decided not to tell him about her own mirror. At best he would make some snide comment, and at worst the whole silly game would start up again. That snow cloud had followed her around for weeks¸ hiding until she was sure that it was gone and then dumping an entire blizzard on her head without warning. Numair seemed to have forgotten about it entirely. He didn't banish it; in the end she had spotted it ambling away out of the window to join the other autumn clouds, for all the world like a fat fluffy lamb rejoining its flock. Daine slammed the window on it and sent the next cat who asked her to cure its fleas to visit Numair's wardrobe first.

For a few weeks Daine kept the mirror hidden in her room, but more often than not a cat or a bird (or a certain dragon) would tease it from its hiding place, and she would find them playing with it in the corridors or the yard. When she had to beg a magpie to recover it from his nest she decided to carry it in her belt purse instead. That way she could keep an eye on it and, she thought a little bitterly, it was what she was supposed to do, anyway.

That night she got to Numair's rooms a little early, before her teacher had arrived. The fire was easy enough to build, and since they were practicing meditation that night she decided not to worry about finding the candle stubs under the chaos of mess Numair called home. Instead, she sat down next to the fire and folded her legs.

The flickering light distracted her. Scowling, she realised that the mirror was uncovered yet again!

He must be swanning around trying to impress someone, she thought, realising that it must be why he was late. It was always either a woman or a book, and he didn't need to look impressive in the library. Sometimes he even forgot to wear shoes.

The Daine in the mirror scowled back at her, and the girl waved to herself ruefully. Well, she wouldn't call any animals tonight. Perhaps she had been wrong to scold Numair so much about the mirror. She made a mental note to apologise, or at least tease him less, and found her hand wandering to her pocket. She had never dared to really look in her own mirror, but since she was already under the unsettling stare of her own reflection, Daine decided she might as well have a peek.

She clicked open the case, and looked at her grey eyes outlined by firelit skin, curiously arched eyebrows, and a grubby forehead. Sighing, she held it up to the mirror so the reflection could see, and pulled a face at the creature's expression. Placing the mirror down on the floor beside her, she closed her eyes and, as still and peaceful as her own image, began to meditate.

When Numair pushed open the door of his room he thought that he was alone. Defying the silence, the fire was warm and the shutters were closed. Calling a soft mage light so he could see better, he walked to the fire and felt something crack under his foot. Stepping back hurriedly, he looked down and saw the shining shards of a broken mirror seconds before the dark shadow in front of the hearth groaned and moved.

"Daine!" He cried, and knelt down beside her. The girl moaned again, and Numair had to grab her arm to stop her rolling towards the broken shards. How hadn't he seen her? But she'd been lying in the shadows, and so still, and now he was touching her wrist it felt cold and stiff. "Daine," He whispered again, and dragged her upright. "Please tell me you fell asleep. Daine, please wake up now. Daine..."

"Sh'up 'Mair." She mumbled, and her head lolled back. The man bit back a laugh and lifted her up so he could carry her to a chair. She curled up like an infant, but she still looked pale and waxen, and Numair wondered if he should fetch a healer. Normally when his student fell asleep meditating she didn't look so ill.

Her eyes opened a little, and she focused on something on the floor. "Broke it." She muttered, and rubbed at her eyes. A strange expression crossed her face for a moment, closer to snide delight than weariness. Then she lowered her hand, and she looked normal again. "Did I... I fell 'sleep, didn't I?"

"It looks that way." Numair cupped her chin and turned her head from side to side, frowning. Daine shook him off before he could see if she'd hit her head, but since the gesture was more reassuring than the lack of bruises the man didn't mind. Smiling a little in relief, he said, "You're very cold, Daine. Maybe you should go to bed."

"I'm awake now, though." She pointed out, and knelt on the floor to start gathering up shards. A thousand fingers reached up when she reached down to every piece, and she sounded upset. "I broke my mirror."

"A mirror?" The mage looked down at the shards distractedly. Nudging one with his boot, he watched the shimmer of bronze firelight dancing across the surface. "Daine, don't you know better than to meditate between mirrors?"

"No!" She sounded close to tears, so tired that her voice was a raw nerve. "No, Numair. It's one of the ten thousand thousand things I still don't know about magic."

He opened his mouth to retort, and then the inexplicable sense of danger faded, and he saw only his tired, ill and increasingly irritable friend trying to sort out a mess that he had made himself.

"I'll clean it up." He picked her up a second time and held out a hand until she surrendered the fragments. The stubborn line of her chin was offset by the gratitude in her eyes. As much as she wanted to help, Daine really did feel strange. Her head ached, but her skin felt electrified, as if every nerve was closer to the surface than it had ever been before.

"Thank you." She said, and meant it when she added, "I'm sorry for worrying you. I'll be better in the morning."

"I'll see you in the morning, then." Numair looked down at the shards he was carrying, at the bronze firelight whirling across them, and only remembered to say, "Sleep well!" long after the door had closed behind her.

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