Once again they stood before the Mirror, unable to make any movement. And those on the other side of the mirror wall had been making faces and having fun, sticking out their tongues and pointing their fingers.

"That's enough fooling around," Tim's doppelganger said imperiously at one point, and the merriment died down. "We have more important things to do."

"Let's start by setting fire to the library," the tilfing's doppelganger chuckled, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the fun. The whimsical play of shadows in the subterranean cave made him look like a real devil.

"Why limit yourself to the library? Let's burn the whole forest to the ground! Let the fire reach to the sky!" the peirot's doppelganger laughed demonically.

"Don't waste your time on trifles, Ir-Ob and Raan-Math," the drow doppelganger said sternly, and the darkness swirled around his head. "We'd better make sure that everyone is afraid of us. And even the teachers would think twice before giving us bad grades. Am I thinking right, Mit?"

"You're all small-minded," Tim's doppelganger grinned wickedly. "With the power we have now, we can run the school ourselves."

"And what are we to do with them?" Ir-Ob nodded toward the Mirror.

"Let them stay here forever, they can't stop us now. Don't be bored without us," Mit waved a sneering goodbye, and turned to leave the cave, followed by the others.

"We have to stop them," Tim whispered through his lips as he tried to break the charms. But it was in vain - his friends, aware of the futility of their efforts, froze as lifeless statues and answered him no more. There is no hope for salvation - it may be tens, or even hundreds of years before someone appears here and guesses to break the Mirror, freeing them. If he comes at all.

Trying to roll onto his other side, Tim felt a sharp pain - as if a hammer had hit his head. He grimaced involuntarily and gingerly groped the bandage on his head; it was no longer bleeding, but he shouldn't touch the bruise site just yet. He'd stumbled and banged his head on a rock! As Satre said he wouldn't have needed a healer if he'd have fallen a little lower and hit his temple. But now he could appreciate the insidiousness of illusion: the hole in the floor, the edge of which he had tripped over, was small enough and he could have easily stepped over it. Unless, of course, he was absolutely certain that he was walking on the clouds like on a sidewalk.

Now he will try not to make the same mistakes again, having learned firmly that he should not believe in mirages, no matter how pleasant and attractive they might be. That was the end of their expedition: who in such a situation would have continued on the trail, leaving behind a wounded comrade? Thanks to his friends - without them it would not have been possible to get over the "skating rink" and climb the ledge at the beginning of the minus second tier. The pain pulsing inside his skull clouded his consciousness - the climbs were especially difficult to overcome. Their backpacks remained there, in the hiding place - it was good that they had made a place for it beforehand. When they reached the exit of the dungeon, Mez'A'Shib looked warily out into the tunnel before he signaled to follow him. Fortunately, the dwarves didn't elicit details, only sent Ri-Bo to the medical aid station to bring Satre from there. Naar-Tam gave Rugud the scrolls found under the statue, which the dwarves seemed to be quite interested in since no one had ever brought them anything like that before. Satre, who arrived shortly thereafter, treated and bandaged Tim's wound, then gave him a healing potion to drink, and urged him to go to bed immediately upon returning in his room. In case anyone came across them on the way there, the explanation had been made in advance - Tim had fallen from a tree, where he had decided to climb for some reason. Tim didn't remember if they had to explain this to anyone - the potion soon was beginning to work, the pain was slightly dulled and he was pulling himself to sleep. Therefore, when he got to his own room, he immediately fell onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

He wish he'd noticed what time they came back. Now, judging by the mazarine eye, it was midnight. What a pity his arrogance had caused their expedition to end so quickly! His friends would certainly not hold it against him, but he would not soon forgive himself. In principle, he could compensate by giving his share of what was found - if they would take it. How are they now, by the way? It was too far to the drow's room, but getting to the others wouldn't be a problem - unless they'd gone to bed, of course.

But when he tried to sit up on the bed, the throbbing pain returned. He would reach for the vial that Satre had given him to take regularly - it was now on the table. But first he would have to lie still for a while until the pain subsided slightly.

A light, on the edge of perception, knock on the door distracted him from contemplating the ceiling. Tim wondered which friend had decided to visit him first. In his mind Tim sent a command to the door to open, and - what a surprise! - Selkise entered the room.

"How badly does it hurt?" she asked in a serious, even slightly stern voice, not wasting time greeting him.

"It's nothing, just a scratch!" Tim joked cheerfully, but then he puckered up, blurring the effect of the joke.

"Liar. Let me see for myself!" saying in an irreconcilable tone, she pulled a chair to the bed, sat down on it, and with two fingers around the wrist of his right hand listened for some time to something that only she could hear. Then she touched his forehead. The coldness of her palm burned at first, and then it was as if it absorbed his inner heat and pain. And Tim felt surprisingly comfortable and at peace with himself.

"Thank you. You are a real healer!" he thanked her from the bottom of his heart.

"I try as hard as I can," Selkise replied without a smile, not giving in to the praise. "Tell me what you encountered down this time there, on the lower tiers."

"But... how do you know!?"

"Where else would you get a wound like that? If you fell out of a tree, you'd probably bruise your bottom. And why would you climb it?"

You can't deny her perceptiveness, she's got him in a game of chicken again. If he'd had his head all right, he wouldn't have given in so easily. And when the pain went away, he just relaxed, and that was the result.

"It's not easy to cheat you," he admitted reluctantly.

"Why should it be? Am I your enemy? And didn't I promise to keep quiet about everything I heard?"

It's hard to argue with logic, and Tim had to start the story. The details of their first visit to the dungeon were already known, so Tim began with the map that had led them through the labyrinth. When he reached the Mirror in his narrative, Tim remembered the strange word written on it.

"Do you happen to know what 'Yuenhee' means?"

"Yuenhee?" Selkise wondered. "It's one of the girls' names on Olmari. It's not really a name for children now, but it was popular in my great-grandfathers' time. Why did you mention it?"

She was horrified when she heard the details.

"You, boys, are incorrigible in their stupidity! Do you have any idea what you've done? With the magic of blood you can do many terrible things and even open the door to the realm of the dead! All you have to do is to write the name of the one you wish to see on the glass with your own blood, and his soul will come to you from there. When you called that name and touched the glass, you put the magic into action, opening the door again. But there was no one to warn you: that world is full of dangerous creatures! That's why our wizards have to put up guard before they go there. You have to thank your friends because it wouldn't be you who came back from there. If you came back at all."

"But the one who wrote in blood... did he really stay there?"

"Ask an easier question. Maybe he had an amulet of protection. Or a helper who would interrupt the ritual if it got out of hand."

"Is it really possible to communicate with any soul in this way?"

"Theoretically, yes. But in reality, only Great Masters can do it. Unless you're related to the deceased by family or spiritual ties, in which case it might work for the apprentice, too. But I wouldn't try it," she summed up with her lips pressed together.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Tim didn't mention the discovery under the statue just in case, and the description of the cold in the tunnel and the 'skating rink' didn't particularly interest her - unlike the illusions behind the painted wall.

"Are you sure you saw the same thing?" she asked toward the end.

The question puzzled Tim - he hadn't even thought about it, taking the visions for what they were. But hardly any purely earthly images could appear to his friends from other planets! Swamp frogs, for example, are not likely to be found in the dungeons where the drowes live, though some source of water must be there - no life is possible without it, and dark elves are no exception. To tell the truth, he had never bothered to find out what animals lived in the Earth's underground waterways, but somehow it seemed that frogs weren't supposed to be there. Frogs always live on the surface.

Well, when he'll see his friends, he ask them to tell more details about their visions.

'I seem to have bored you a little," Selkise interpreted his silence in her own way. "Rest!"

She touched his forehead again, and a warm wave coursed through his body, lulling him into oblivion.

By the time Tim woke up, it was already dawn. The nightmares no longer plagued him, the pain was gone, and he felt as if he had been born again. He was even able to get out of bed effortlessly. Maybe he doesn't need the potion now.

After thinking for a while, he still took a sip or two of the tincture. Most likely, in addition to the medication, it also contained soporifics, because a couple of minutes later he felt sleepy again. But the effect was weaker this time, maybe because he had had a good night's sleep, and his body did not want to go back to bed. It turns out that Selkise's magic is much more effective than the medicines from the medical aid station! She's a real White magician - it'll be a long time before he can do something like that. If he can do it at all - not everyone has the ability to heal. And he still hadn't made good on his promise to talk to his friends about her participation in the expedition. She didn't reproach him, didn't even remind him, but that didn't make him feel any better. And Tim felt a little ashamed that he hadn't kept his word. He will definitely do it, but not tonight, or his friends will wonder why he suddenly bothered to add a girl to their team. It's better not mention the night visit of Selkise at all, or he'll be the object of ridicule and friendly taunts.

Tim could not be alone with his own thoughts for long as Ri-Bo and Naar-Tam came to visit him.

"We brought something to eat!" they poured the contents of their pockets onto the table. "We thought it's better for you not show your face in the dining room, or anywhere else, otherwise you'd be bothered with questions. How are you feeling now?"

"More or less. I might be able to take the bandage off tomorrow. Did anyone ask for me?"

"Nah, not many people saw us yesterday!" Ri-Bo reported cheerfully.

"Only three, actually: Taeron, Shiimaa and Jaamite," Naar-Tam explained. "But they did not ask us any questions. Maybe they simply didn't notice the bandage because they saw us from afar."

But then how did Selkise know? Probably from Jaamite, they were sort of friends. Though Tim had never seen her in the tunnel leading to their rooms. But maybe she's just shy of showing up in the boys' compartment.

"We took another walk to the dwarves yesterday, after we had made sure you were all right," the peirot admitted, "to tell them more about what happened, and what we saw along the way. Rugud promised to get a mag-detector for us, and also protection rings, amulets, and even glasses enchanted with True Sight, so we wouldn't be fooled by illusions."

"Did our gift make him so generous?" Tim chuckled.

"I suppose so. If he really give us what he were promised, we'll bring him some more sheets!"

"When's the next expedition, have you discussed it?"

"No, it's not time for that yet! Kobold has a new potion to make. And in the next few days the dwarves will be busy preparing for the feast."

"What feast?"

"You're really something! It looks like your head was pretty badly hurt! It's New Year's Eve! Today is the eighteenth day of the ninth month!"

Tim had indeed overlooked this fact. On Earth the New Year was still too far away (he had been invited to study magic in April), and he never could not make friends with the local calendar: the days were perceived simply as numbers in the calendar grid.

"Perhaps it would be a holiday dinner again!" Ri-Bo licked his eyes dreamily.

"So we won't have class until next year."

"Yeah. The teachers need a break from us, too!"

"They didn't do much with us. We only met with each of them twice! Not counting, of course, the lunch on the day we arrived at school."

"So, on New Year feast we will see them for the fourth time!"

They chatted some more, and then the friends left, wishing him a speedy recovery from his 'battle wound' and promising to stop by again in the evening, and to bring some more food from the dining room as well.

But even if Tim was going to enjoy the peace and quiet, it still wouldn't work out. He had never had so many guests as he had that day. Chilajt and Mikpir arrived first, and they were strongly surprised where and how he could have fallen so badly. Chilajt kissed him again, right on the bruised spot - it's saying that it promotes healing, or at least that's how gorgon people do it. Gook-Luk and Patpako came in next, and the girl, chattering away, kept trying to find out more about what had happened, so Tim's head began to hurt. At least her companion had kept silent the whole time, and only in the end asked permission to try a healing spell on him. Of course, Tim agreed - why not, it couldn't get any worse. It really didn't get any worse, though he didn't feel much relief. But not to disappoint Patpako, he said it had gotten a little better. It wasn't until the guests left that he really felt better.

But soon the elves arrived, five of them at once - Eliavin and his twin sister, Gillmir, Faelinn, and Iwiel. Fortunately, they did not tire the 'sick man' with idle chatter; after making sure that nothing serious had happened to Tim (as it turned out, someone had managed to spread a rumor that the boy had broken his head and was now almost dying), they wished him a speedy recovery and quietly departed.

Even his neighbor, the gaarsh, had paid him a visit, on the pretext that he should check one of the formulas of Green magic, which had been crossed out in his textbook for some reason. He didn't inquire after his well-being (such questions are considered improper on his home planet), only thanked him for his assistance. On the other hand orcs, who came soon, did not feel any shyness: they piled the whole table with meat crackers, at the same time expressing noisy delight that their 'teacher of literature' was alive and not even badly hurt. It was hard to say how long Tim would have been able to endure all this, but Rumara intervened, saying that enough for today, the human needed to get his head in order. Because, unlike some people, he also thinks with it.

That's right, Tim grinned to himself.

There were no more visitors until the evening, except for Naar-Tam and Ri-Bo, who had brought sweets again. They were surprised to find that they weren't the only ones who had come up with the idea of treating the "sick one" with goodies.

And only when the sun had set below the horizon and the stars began to appear in the sky, the tentative knock at the door announced the arrival of Mez'A'Shib. He seemed to have picked a good time - no one could be expected to visit, and no one would bother to talk quietly and discuss some important things. The news that the drow had brought with them was both frightened and alarmed.

"Pulsok got some voluntary helpers," he said with a sour expression. "Kunfor at the top and Germeht at the bottom, both with armbands on, keeping an eye on who goes where."

"They can't do anything to us during the day anyway."

"That's true, but it's not very nice to be watched. Persons on duty, ashlimu nishmah (an intricate swear word uttered by the drow, the ring could not translate), may the deepest crevice be their last resting place! To talk to the kobold, I had to trick, pretending to go to the dining room, and as soon as Germeht was distracted by Alkitmi, I snuck into another tunnel. Tullum already knew about our adventure - he must have had time to talk to the dwarves. All I had to do was to clear up a few details. I paid for the potion and left an advance for the next."

"Recoup the loss from my share."

"What for? I took from the pile, and the rest was divided equally. A pity, of course, that the second expedition didn't bring much."

"And all because of me. That is why I propose to compensate for the loss at least this way."

"Don't be silly. Any one of us could be in your shoes. When I fell off the cliff at the beginning of the minus second tier and then, on the 'skating rink', there were no serious consequences, but it could have been different, right?"

"I certainly would not have demanded payment for disrupting the expedition."

"Why should I? Just because I'm a drow? Of course, if it had been Shin, she would have taken the lion's share without a reason. But not all drowes are like she. Don't worry, we'll get more next time! Kobold promised to brew a potion that would work like True Sight. Otherwise we might fall into another trap."

"By the way, since you mentioned the Potions Science..."

Tim climbed into the wardrobe and pulled out a folded quadruple sheet from under a pile of bed linen.

"Here, look at this!"

"What is it?"

"A class schedule from five hundred years ago! I happened to find it in one of my books as a bookmark."

Mez'A'Shib studied it with great interest.

"Yes, it used to be so much more fun. May I take the sheet with me and show it to the kobold? No one else, and I'll return it at once," he promised hurriedly, as if afraid of rejection.

But Tim immediately agreed.

"Of course. Tullum would be amused to know that there were once alchemy teachers here."

"Almost certainly. And now the second piece of news I heard from him: the teachers had been quietly advised not to delay our studies and to complete them within the next year."

"But why?"

"How should I know? Kobold himself does not know, he found out it by chance from Iskitt, who stopped by the laboratory for scientific interest."

Tim was literally shocked to hear this. Of course, he had nothing against going home sooner. But, on the other hand, would he (and his classmates, too) have time to learn all the wisdom of sorcery in such a short time?

"And the teachers agreed to this?"

"Most likely," Mez'A'Shib shrugged. "I agree, it's all very strange. I've noticed that when I think about it, it gives me a headache. And then I catch myself thinking, I don't want to think about it. Have you ever had anything like that?"

"I have," Tim said grudgingly. "We'll have to ask the others if they've had the same experience. By the way, did you notice that in all the time we were at school, none of the previous graduates showed up here? Do you know why?"

TO BE CONTINUED...