The Water Mirror Read Online Free PDF Page B

messengers from Hell had visited the City Council in the past months and offered it the
     help of their master in the battle against the Empire. But the councillors had ruled out
     any pact with Old Nick. So long as the Flowing Queen was protecting them all, there was
     no reason for it. Ever since the National Geographic Society expedition under the famed
     Professor Charles Burbridge in 1833 had proven Hell to be a real place in the interior
     of the earth, there had beenseveral meetings between the
     ambassadors of Satan and representatives of humanity. However, no one knew any of the
     details, and that was probably just as well.
    All this shot through Merle’s head while she walked the last paces
     up to the door of the workshop. With infinite caution she placed her hand flat on the
     wood. She’d expected it to feel warm, but that proved to have been wrong. The wood
     was cool and in no way different from any of the other doors in the house. Even the
     metal door handle was cold when Merle ran a finger over it.
    She considered whether she should enter. It was the only thing she could
     do. She was alone, and she doubted there was anyone in this house who would come to her
     aid.
    She’d just made her decision when the latch was pressed from the
     other side. Merle whirled around, meaning to flee, but then she sprang into the
     protection of the left-hand door, while the right one swung to the inside.
    A broad beam of glowing light splashed across the smoke on the floor.
     Where Merle had just been standing, the swirls of smoke were swept aside by a draft of
     air. Then a shadow crossed the light stripe. Someone walked out into the corridor.
    Merle pressed herself as deeply as she could into the protection of the
     closed side of the door. She was less than six feet away from the figure.
    Shadows can make people menacing, even if in realitythey aren’t at all. They make midgets large and weaklings as broad as
     elephants. So it was in this case.
    The mighty shadow shrank, the farther the little old man got from the
     source of the light. As he stood there, without even noticing Merle, he looked almost a
     bit comical in his much too long trousers and the smock that had become almost black
     with soot and smoke. He had disheveled gray hair that stood out on all sides. His face
     glistened. A droplet of sweat ran down his temple and was lost in his bushy side
     whiskers.
    Instead of turning around to Merle, he turned back to the door and
     extended a hand in the direction of the light. A second shadow melted with his on the
     floor.
    â€œCome, my child,” he said, his voice gentle. “Come
     out.”
    Merle didn’t move. She hadn’t imagined her first meeting with
     Arcimboldo like this. Only the calm and serenity in the old man’s voice gave her a
     little hope.
    But then the mirror maker said, “The pain will stop soon.”
    Pain?
    â€œYou needn’t be afraid,” Arcimboldo said, facing the
     open door. “You’ll quickly get used to it, believe me.”
    Merle scarcely dared breathe.
    Arcimboldo took two or three steps backward into the passageway. As he
     moved, he held both hands outstretched, an invitation to follow him.
    â€œCome closer . . . yes, just like
     that. Very slowly.”
    And Junipa came. With small, uncertain steps she walked through the door
     into the hallway. She moved stiffly and very carefully.
    But she can’t see anything, Merle thought
     desperately. Why was Arcimboldo letting her wander around without help in a place that
     wasn’t familiar to her? Why didn’t he wait until she could take his hand?
     Instead he kept moving backward, farther from the door—and in fact at any moment
     he was going to discover Merle, hiding in the shadow. Spellbound, she stared at Junipa,
     who was falteringly stepping past her in the hallway. Arcimboldo, too, only had eyes for
     the girl.
    â€œYou’re doing very