Mirrorscape by Mike Wilks

walls. Before them rose a wide staircase that branched and divided into galleries all the way to the top.
    Then, in an instant, Mel’s world changed. For the first time he came face to face with a great work of art. He had listened to Fa Theum’s descriptions of paintings, but nothing could have prepared him for the raw thrill of actually seeing one. It seemed to him that it was not just lifelike but was even more real than the concrete objects all around him. It was as if he could step through the canvas and enter the immaculate world depicted there.
    As he stared, he felt a great happiness enfold him, as he felt the borders of his life expand until they stretched forever. He knew then that he had come home.

The Apprentices
    Mel stood transfixed at the foot of the stairs. There, just above him, at the head of the broad, first flight, on a great crystal throne, sat an enormous, robed figure with the head of a giant eagle. Around its feet were gathered a menagerie of hybrid creatures and, above it, soared more strange and wonderful birds and insects than Mel could count. They all gazed down at the new arrival with a piercing, unblinking and malevolent stare.
    â€˜One of Ambrosius Blenk’s. Impressive, isn’t it?’ Dirk Tot’s voice jolted Mel from his ecstasy.
    â€˜The master did that? Really? ’
    â€˜Really. Look, Mel, it’s late and I must report. Minch will look after you now.’
    As Dirk Tot strode away through a side door, Mel looked up at Minch. He did not need to be told that the fat servant did not like apprentices – it was evident in his sour expression.
    â€˜Shoes,’ said Minch curtly.
    Mel followed the man’s imperious gaze down to hisown feet and, with a sinking feeling, saw the muck he had trailed inside. ‘Sorry.’ He blushed and quickly removed them.
    â€˜Follow,’ ordered Minch as he set off up the stairs.
    Mel padded after the servant in his bare feet. At the first landing he paused to examine the painting more closely. Up close there was even more detail visible than from below. There was no trace of brushwork. His own drawings seemed pitiful in comparison.
    Movement attracted his eye. At the foot of the stairs he saw a young girl, probably no older than he was, on her hands and knees with a bucket and soapy scrubbing brush attacking the mess he had created. She saw him looking at her and glared back.
    â€˜ Boy! ’ snapped Minch and gestured brusquely for Mel to follow. They climbed the stairs and turned down one corridor after another until Mel was hopelessly lost.
    â€˜Stop,’ ordered Minch. ‘Wait.’ He produced some keys and unlocked a store room. He looked Mel up and down. ‘Small.’ He entered the room and soon emerged with a pile of clothing. ‘Kit,’ he announced as he pileda shirt, doublet, hose and boots in the household colours in Mel’s arms.
    Mel stood for a moment with his jaw hanging open. ‘Are these for me?’
    Minch sighed. ‘Come.’ He set off again at once, Mel half-running to keep up. More corridors and stairs followed until they arrived at a door through which Mel could hear the murmur of many voices. Minch pushed open the door and announced, ‘Refectory. Apprentices,’ before turning and leaving.
    Mel found himself looking into a large, brightly lit room with a coloured mural running around the walls. Running down the centre of the room was a long oak table, around which sat a dozen apprentices on wooden benches with their half-finished suppers before them. They all wore additions to their livery such as coloured caps or patterned scarves or sashes and all of their clothes bore paint stains. There was an evident hierarchy in the refectory, with the younger apprentices at the end of the table nearest the door and the older ones at the other. Seated at the head of the table in an ornate, upholstered chair, was the eldest of all. He was skinny andmuch taller