It only took a few minutes to collect several half-burned bits of grass and twig from the floor of the cave and to gather a few reasonably cooperative spriggans-one of them freshly emerged from the mirror.

“Now,” Gresh told the spriggans, “we are going to try a few things. If they work, then I want to make an offer to you and all the spriggans in the World that I think is very fair, and which I very much hope you’ll accept.”

“Can’t speak for all spriggans,” one of the larger spriggans said.

“Well, we’ll see what we can do,” Gresh said. “Now, first off, can any of you read?”

The spriggans exchanged glances. “No?” one of them ventured.

“Let’s just see,” Gresh said. He pulled out a jar and showed them the label. “Karanissa, could you provide a little extra light? It’s getting dim in here.”

The witch obliged by holding up a glowing hand. Her imitation stared up at this in obvious amazement, then began studying her own hand.

“Now, look at the jar,” Gresh said to the spriggans. “Can any of you tell me what that label says?”

No one replied. Some stared at the jar; some exchanged glances with one another, but none admitted to having any idea what the label said.

Gresh sighed and lowered the jar. “So you can’t read. I was afraid of that. Can any spriggans read?”

“Don’t think so,” the big one said.

“Well, we’ll just have to hope the human reflections cooperate, or that your originals can figure out pictograms,” Gresh said, as he slid the jar back into its place in the box. “Now, I need a volunteer to go first.”

“What first?” a brighter-green-than-usual spriggan asked warily.

“I’ll show you, as soon as one of you volunteers. It won’t hurt.” He certainly hoped it wouldn’t hurt. He didn’t see any reason it should.

“Fun?” asked a nondescript spriggan.

Gresh smiled, hoping he looked sincere. “Yes, I think it’ll be fun.”

“Have fun, then.” It stepped forward.

“Thank you!” Gresh picked up one of his improvised charcoals, caught up the spriggan in his other hand, and quickly began drawing on the spriggan’s bare belly.

A few of the other spriggans gasped in horror at Gresh’s apparent treachery. Some stepped back as the captive shrieked. A couple of them fled, vanishing into the shadows at the far end of the cave.

“Ack! Tickles!” the spriggan in Gresh’s hand squealed, as it began squirming.

“Just…hold still for a moment,” Gresh said, as he struggled to complete the sketch he was drawing.

The spriggan began giggling uncontrollably and thrashing its arms and legs and ears wildly, but Gresh refused to be distracted or release his hold until he had completed the job. Finally, though, he set the little creature down on a rock and released it.

It stood there gasping, hands waving, laughter gradually subsiding into panting. Then it smiled broadly up at him. “Lots of fun!” it squeaked. “Do it again?”

Gresh smiled back. “No, let someone else have a turn-and don’t smear the drawing! Don’t touch it! Not yet!” He looked around. “Who’s next?” he asked.

This time no one hesitated. “Next! Next!” shrieked another spriggan, beating its comrades in the rush to Gresh’s knee. Gresh picked it up with one hand while he reached for another bit of charcoal with the other.

As he worked on this second spriggan-who was less ticklish than the first, but still enjoyed the experience-he kept glancing at the first, to make sure the quick charcoal sketch wasn’t being ruined. Before starting the third, he set Karanissa and her reflection to guarding the finished ones, making certain they didn’t let anything disturb his crude drawings.

Finally, after decorating six spriggans, he felt he had done the best he could. He set the two women to stand guard over them while he pulled out the jar of purple powder. He sprinkled it over the mirror, then told everyone, “Stand back! Don’t look in the mirror!”

Both Karanissas stepped back, and the spriggans scampered after them.

“Esku!” Gresh shouted.

The powder flared up and was gone.

“Now, the first spriggan,” he called. “The first one I drew on-run forward and look in the mirror, just once!”

After a moment of confused hesitation, the creature obeyed.

“Next!” Gresh called.

One by one, he sent all six to look into the mirror; then, satisfied, he carefully laid his pack over the mirror so that no one else could look in it before the Spell of Reversal wore off.

“Tickle again?” a spriggan asked, sidling up to him.

Gresh looked down at the creature. It was smiling up at him, trying to look endearing-and it was succeeding.

Besides, the thing had helped him with his scheme and deserved some reward. “All right,” he said. He picked it up and began tickling.

After all, he had nothing more urgent to do. There was no need to draw any more pictures. He had sent his message.

Or at least, he hoped he had; success all depended on the assumption that his guess about the mirror’s nature was right. If he was wrong about how it worked, he had just wasted a spell and a good bit of time and effort.

If his theory was correct, though, he had just created six spriggan images in the real spriggans’ world, each of the first five with a picture drawn on its belly, and the sixth with a message in Ethsharitic runes.

The pictures were each numbered in the upper left corner-not with numerals, but with tally marks from | to |||||. The drawings, stick figures done in scratchy charcoal, were intended to convey instructions to the inhabitants of that other world.

The first drawing showed two huge scary people threatening a crowd of spriggans; one of the two giants was still in the process of emerging from an oval intended to represent a mirror.

The second showed two spriggans carrying the mirror between them.

The third showed them placing the mirror in an open box.

The fourth showed them closing the box.

The fifth drawing was the most complicated, showing two scenes-at the top two scary giants coming out of a mirror were heavily crossed out with a big black X that had sent the canvas-spriggan into hysterical screams of laughter, while below that four happy, smiling spriggans stood around the safely closed box. He had had trouble with that one; fitting all of it on a single spriggan had been difficult, and he had used his finest bit of charcoal-tipped twig for the job.

Those five were intended to convey his message to illiterate spriggans, but he hoped they wouldn’t be needed. The sixth spriggan’s belly had a message written on it: “SHUT THE MIRROR IN A SOLID BOX, AND NOTHING ELSE WILL COME OUT OF IT.”

That hadn’t been easy to fit, either. He had debated whether to write the runes forward or backward and had settled on forward-yes, they would probably be reversed on arrival, but so would the images of Karanissa and himself.

Now, if the message got through, and someone in the other world heeded it, then that should solve the spriggan population problem-if the other mirror was safely sealed away where no true spriggans could look in it, then no spriggan images would emerge in the World.

Assuming, of course, that he had correctly deduced the spell’s workings.

The only way to test it was to wait and see. If anything else came out of the mirror, then he would need to try something else.

Even if it all worked perfectly, that only solved half the problem. The other half was that he had promised he would deliver the mirror to Tobas, and right now there were several thousand spriggans who did not want him removing the mirror from this cave. He was fairly certain that there was no magic he could use to force them-if a sixty-foot dragon wasn’t enough to chase them away, then he had no idea what would do the job.