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to his full height, and waved a large, bony hand imperiously. “Not at all,” he said. “Not at all. We’re merely taking advice. Taking advice is an accepted part of court protocol, recognized by every law and moral principle we have.”
    “Oh,” said Ewan. He was dubious, but he knew that he was hardly in a position to argue. “What are the questions, then?”
    “We don’t know as yet. We’re expecting the first one to arrive by express mail, first thing in the morning. We’ve agreed to take them one at a time, you see.”
    “I see,” echoed Ewan, who didn’t like the look of this at all.
    “Look upon it as a challenge,” suggested Coronado. Ewan nodded.
    “And always remember that it’s for the greater good of Caramorn.”
    Ewan nodded again.
    “And there is one more thing,” added Coronado, as he began to move away, toward the door.
    Ewan looked at him patiently, feeling that it was unnecessary to reply.
    “You might care to bear in mind that in the present desperate state of emergency all government funds are frozen. Unless something happens to give Caramorn a considerable boost, it will not be possible for the state to renew any grants and suchlike during the coming year. If this marriage does not take place, I’m afraid there’s a strong possibility that you might not be able to return to Heliopolis to continue your studies. So you do see how important this is, don’t you?”
    “Oh, yes,” said Ewan, in a low voice. “I do see.”
    “I think we understand one another,” said Coronado, making his exit smoothly and quietly.
    “We certainly do,” murmured Ewan, to the empty air. “We certainly do.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    “Mirror, mirror on the wall,” recited Helen, “what’s the most difficult question of all?”
    “I don’t have to answer that,” retorted the mirror. “And if I did I’d probably point out that the one you just asked me must be a candidate. What’s more, it doesn’t scan properly.”
    “Look,” said Helen, with exasperation. “All I ask is a little co-operation. A little assistance. Advice, maybe. For old times’ sake.”
    “Ha!” said the mirror.
    “All I want,” said Helen, controlling her voice to restore some of the natural sweetness to it, “is a few suggestions relating to unanswerable questions. It has to look reasonable, of course—the kind of question that seems simple enough but when you get right down to it is quite impossible.”
    “It’s not my field,” said the mirror. “I’m only here to report on reflections. What you need is a paradox monger.”
    “What’s a paradox monger?”
    “Someone who sells paradoxes.”
    “And where, pray, am I going to find one of those?”
    “Search me,” said the mirror. “And stop doing that.”
    “What?”
    “Trying to turn me off.” “Turn you off?” repeated Helen. “You heard me,” said the mirror. “I’m not trying to turn you off.” “Yes, you are.” “No, I’m not.”
    There was a brief pause. Then the mirror said: “Well, somebody is. Look at yourself. Can’t you see the image distorting?”
    Helen looked at her face reflected in the glass. Now the mirror came to mention it there was something odd about it. It seemed blurred. She put her hand to touch the surface of the mirror, and the image put out her hand. But the other hand was somehow paler and less distinct. When her fingers touched the glass Helen could feel a faint but rather strange electric sensation.
    “You’re not breaking down, are you?” said Helen. “You’re the last halfway reasonable magic mirror we’ve got.”
    “I’m in the best of health,” said the mirror. “Someone’s interfering with me, I tell you. I’m being got at. I feel distinctly dizzy, as if my reflection was whirling round and round.
    This was perhaps not so surprising, because even as the mirror spoke the image reflected in it did begin to spin around and around. The blurs became streaks and the whole thing dissolved into a whirlpool