Portals

by Brian S. Pratt

  Intrigued, Holk went to the mirror that translocated to the Mushroom Room and stared at the reflective surface. Seconds passed before the barest shadows of vertical lines appeared as a background shadow within the mirror. The lines ran the height of the mirror, and though remained out of focus, looked very similar to the trunks of the towering mushrooms. His face, too, began to alter. Scars from his ordeal in the Kiln gradually healed over until his face became as new.

  Holk glanced to the book, wondering if it said anything about the alteration of his appearance. Skimming through, the only thing that might have pertinence was a reference to a particular variety of mushrooms.

  …the small, red-capped mushrooms appear to have healing properties. Attempting to try them earlier today, the abrasion upon my calf that had been giving me such problems the last two days vanished over the course of an hour. Will have to keep in mind…

  This had definite possibilities. But as the journal stated, it only happened to some mirrors. Returning back to where he had been reading, he continued.

  …two kinds of mirrors. Those on the wall are indestructible. Tried repeatedly to destroy one without producing so much as a scratch. The handheld ones are less forgiving and can be broken. I already lost two, much to my chagrin. Probably an aspect incorporated by the Merchant…

  Holk paused. Merchant? “What do you mean by, Merchant? Is that someone from before you came here…or after?” Interest piqued, he skimmed through the pages until finding another reference.

  …Merchant is wily. There is a price for everything. Managed to get the brace of torches for three of the red-capped mushrooms. Most of the minor things can be exchanged for mushrooms. When asked what the price for escape from this place, he replied ‘Your soul of course.’ Have to remember to be extra careful when dealing with him…

  Further skimming found:

  …Merchant talks incessantly about the most trivial details. Discovered that if I remain patient and listen long enough, he’ll let slip information that he didn’t intend. That’s how I found out about Streyan. Saw him once, but he vanished. I believe he has many of the handheld mirrors in his possession. Wish to hook up and partner with him. Maybe together we can…

  The Merchant, and now someone named Streyan? Curiouser and curiouser. Searching for mention of this Streyan, he skimmed further.

  …almost caught up with Streyan at the waterfall. He was swimming, but when I hailed, he quickly dashed for his pack and vanished. Before vanishing, though, I saw a bulky leather wallet-like item from which he pulled forth a mirror. May be a way to carry the handhelds without inadvertently triggering their latent magic. Have to see what price the Merchant wants…

  Several pages after that reference, Holk came across a picture of a bestial creature. Walking upright as a man, it bore the visage of a tusked boar. Twin tusks protruded upward from the lower jaw. Eyes similar to that of a man, it was bipedal and heavily armored with helm, breastplate, greaves, and shield. A curved-headed axe was gripped in its right hand; it looked very formidable.

  …Ti-Ocks is what the Merchant calls these hostile denizens of this place. Came across two today, tried to hail them and was immediately attacked. If not for my trusty handheld mirror, my death would have been assured…

  Turning the pages, he scanned the writing for further interesting information. Most of it was comments describing various rooms Kiernan had encountered. Some were denoted with a curved blade signifying the presence of the Ti-Ocks. From the number of such annotations, the Ti-Ocks were in more rooms than not. Two-thirds through the book, he came to a drawing of an arch with a starburst engraved in the wall above.

  …only place I have yet to search. Been here six months now and have gone through scores of rooms. Had to sneak through a Ti-Ock mine in order to reach the mirror that sent me to the arch. Appeared twenty feet in front of it and was immediately set upon by six Ti-Ocks…

  …a week’s recuperation and a dozen of the red-capped mushrooms has restored my vigor. The Merchant has been less than helpful of late. He has stopped talking about the Ti-Ocks, a fact I take to mean I am close to escape. He has made repeated offers for my soul, says he has a “quota” and I am just being obstinate. If my situation wasn’t so dire, I would have laughed…

  …going to try and see what’s on the other side of the arch. I’m leaving everything in the storage room and taking but one mirror. With any luck, I’ll be home soon…

  That was the last entry.

  The Ti-Ocks must have cut him to shreds when he tried making it through the arch. That would explain the wounds on the skeletal remains, and the fact that Kiernan had been crawling toward the other mirror. He had been trying to reach the mirror stashed beneath the rock next to the stalagmite and return to the Prison Room. The decomposed mass upon the storeroom shelf had probably been his cache of those red-capped, healing mushrooms.

  Gazing at the arch, Holk now had a goal. But where the scribe had been cut down, Holk would not be so readily overcome. Maybe if he can find this Merchant, he could barter for a sword. And what of Streyan? What information might he know concerning the Ti-Ocks and the arch?

  Making himself comfortable, Holk settled in beneath the window and returned to the beginning of the journal. Somewhere within these pages, he hoped to discover the whereabouts of the Merchant, the Arch, and anything else that would prove vital in his bid for escape.

  Chapter 6

  Further reading failed to divulge the exact route through the maze of mirrors either to the Merchant, or the Arch of the Ti-Ocks as he began to think of it. Kiernan’s journal hadn’t been written for others, but for the scribe’s own use. Information that would have proven useful to Holk, Kiernan must have felt unworthy to note.

  The journal had made it very clear that he was entrapped within a vast labyrinthine maze of some scope. Kiernan himself had been six months in trying to find a way out before the lethality of the place consumed him. Holk vowed that he would affect his escape before meeting such a fate, and within a substantially refined timeframe.

  Before heading out to explore, Holk deposited his strip-rope, the spare strips he had been using for fuel, and the torch sconce within the small storage room. The lanterns held a small amount of oil, which he augmented with oil found within the small cask. One of the lanterns was a regular glass oil lamp that provided illumination through all four sides. The other was a hooded lantern with a bull’s-eye opening that could be closed so as to prevent any light from escaping. He took the bull’s-eye lantern.

  He also used two cloth scraps located within the storage room to wrap his portable mirrors. Without the cloth, he ran the risk of inadvertently triggering their translocation properties.

  With journal in hand, he left the storage room, shut the door and locked it. The key he deposited within his pouch alongside his flint. He lit the wick and then adjourned to the Mushroom Room. Once there, he harvested one of the little red-capped mushrooms Kiernan had stated held healing properties. Popping it within his mouth, the first bite produced a euphoric feeling that radiated outward through his tissues, bringing an ease to the aches that plagued him. Two more, and he felt better than he had since that fateful day he and his comrades had fled into the Kiln.

  The small red-capped mushrooms grew in great numbers, and before he left, eight found their way into his pack. He planned to make it a point to always have a few with him. From there, he used the small, wooden-bordered mirror, the one without the red dot, and translocated to Kiernan’s Room.

  Coming to stand next to the scriber’s remains, he said, “You may not have made it out, but together, we’ll win through. When I make it out, I’ll do my best to find your family and let them know what happened.” He then took up the lantern and began searching the room for the mirror that had to be there. Sure enough, he found one at the tail end of the cavern.

  A full length mirror with a narrow, iron border, it was by far the largest mirror yet encountered. Holk took a moment to gaze upon his features and found th
at the remnants of his experience in the Kiln had been removed by the mushrooms.

  “Now, let’s see if you’ll tell me anything about where you go.”

  He kept his gaze fixed unblinkingly upon the mirror. When after a full two minutes the image failed to alter, he figured this to be one that showed nothing. Reaching out, he touched the mirror.

  Instantly, he was assailed by oppressive heat. The air was hot, but not painfully so. A vaporous cloud of steam filled the room. He had been brought to another cavern, of that there could be no doubt, though it lacked the stalactites and ‘mites of previous rooms. Much narrower than the others, it couldn’t have been more than ten feet wide. Droplets of water fell from the cavern’s roof only to vaporize in a hiss of steam upon striking the floor. Seeing the water’s reaction made him aware that his feet were growing uncomfortably hot.

  Behind him, the cavern came to an abrupt end while the way before him extended farther into the steam. Moving ahead, he stepped quickly as the discomfort his feet felt increased.

  The tunnel continued only a short distance before dead-ending at a much wider area. Two mirrors were discovered; a circular one with a gold frame on the wall to his right, and a silver-framed, squarish mirror to the left.

  He entered the wider expanse and stepped quickly to the mirror to the right. His eye caught sight of two red, horizontal lines painted upon the rock alongside the mirror. Curious to see if the other mirror might have similar markings, he moved to the silver-framed, squarish one and discovered no markings of any kind.

  Holk was fairly certain that it had been Kiernan who had placed the markings near the gold-framed mirror, for there had been three such lines etched upon the stalagmite signifying the location of the second, handheld mirror he had found. Yet the question remained, what did this marking signify? Was it a warning, or maybe a trail marker of some kind? There had to be something special about it, or why mark it at all. Holk decided to see where the marked mirror led.

  After removing and holding at the ready the handheld mirror that would take him to the Prison Room, he reached out and touched the one on the wall. The heat vanished and was replaced by a warm, yet somewhat cooler, humid environment.

  He had been taken to another cave. Sunlight streamed in through a large opening less than a dozen paces away. From beyond came twitterings of birds and the rustle of wind-blown leaves. The way out! Moving to the mouth of the cave, he took in the panoramic view.

  The cave resided upon a hill overlooking a valley. Trees occluded a valley floor that stretched for miles with towering cliffs bordering it on either side. Excitement surged within him as he realized he had found the way from his imprisonment. A split-second later, his exuberance fled as experience gleaned from a lifetime of military service screamed that this was far too easy. Kiernan had to have discovered this way from the maze, after all it was but two mirrors removed from where Holk had found his body. Yet, the scribe had failed to make good his escape.

  Pausing near the opening, he searched the journal for any mention of a forested valley, but failed to find any. The mirror that brought him there had been marked with two lines, as a warning perhaps? The panoramic view suddenly became a lot less enticing. What danger might lurk within that canopy of trees? Did he have a choice but to brave the unknown? This may very well be the only way to win his freedom.

  He couldn’t turn his back on this chance. Stepping forward, he maintained the highest level of awareness. From the cave entrance, the hillside dropped at a steep angle for well over fifty feet before reaching the tree line. Holk took it carefully.

  Five paces from the opening, a sparkle from his right drew his attention to where another mirror lay partially exposed upon the stone wall some distance from the cave entrance. All but a forearm’s length was encased within the rock, the border glistened silvery in the sunlight.

  After casting a quick look to his surroundings, he quickly made his way to the mirror. Just as the one before, this mirror also had a pair of red, horizontal lines painted alongside it upon a prominent outcropping.

  Holk shook his head. “Not this time.”

  Unwilling to take the chance of again becoming entrapped, Holk turned his back on it. Freedom lay in the woods, not through another mirror. Stepping forth, he started down the hill toward the trees, ever alert for the sudden appearance of danger.

  What he really needed was a weapon of some kind. Searching the forest’s edge, he spied a fallen tree and made his way toward it. A few well placed blows with his foot succeeded in breaking off a limb that would be suitable, barely, as a staff. It took several minutes to trim the extra branches from it, but when it was done, he held a seven foot staff that was only slightly gnarled and bent. Though not his preferred weapon, he was not completely without skill in its use.

  From the tree, he entered the woods and set out for the far edge of the valley. It would most likely take him a couple hours to forge through the dense underbrush. By the position of the sun, he should clear the valley before nightfall.

  Ten minutes into the trees, a sense of foreboding settled over him. At first he was unsure of the cause, but then came to realize that the sounds of the forest had died. Birds no longer sang, and the wind-blown rustle of leaves in the boughs above had stilled.

  Holk paused by the side of a gnarled, old oak. Cocking his head to the side, he sought even the slightest trace of sound. All he heard was his own breath and the beating of his heart, such was the stillness of the forest.

  Shaking off the uneasy feeling, he attributed it to time spent in the caves and continued on. Not far from the oak tree, displayed between the two halves of a tree split by lightning, stretched a leathery tapestry adorned with many oddly shaped bones. Holk came to an immediate halt.

  The sight of the object before him gave him pause. Scanning the trees, he sought the presence of others. Upon failing to detect any, he went to investigate the tapestry, though it could only be considered a tapestry in the broadest of terms. Closer examination revealed it to be made from a skin of some kind. The bones weren’t just attached to it, rather, they looked to be an integral part of the construction.

  Wary in the extreme, Holk came to stand directly in front of the split trunk supporting the unusual item. After casting a quick glance to the quiet forest about him, he moved the end of his staff toward it. Before it could come into contact, a ripple coursed through the leathery tapestry.

  The movement so completely took him by surprise, that he darted backward two steps in shock. What was that thing? Could it be alive? He couldn’t see how. It was thin as parchment and the bones were bare of any type of muscle or sinew. Thinking that perhaps the momentary shudder that had rippled through it to be a product of his own over-active imagination, he decided to put it to the test, but not with the staff.

  Retreating a good five yards, he picked up a stone from off the ground and tossed it toward the leathery object. The reaction produced when the rock struck was anything but what he expected. Hitting dead center, the rock was immediately enveloped by the leathery object. Letting go of the split-trunk of the tree, the thing wrapped itself tightly around the rock as it, and the stone, fell to the forest floor.

  Holk hurried to acquire a better vantage point to view what the thing was doing. To his horror, he found its outer surface undulating like waves rippling across a pond’s surface. The bones moved back and forth, producing a grinding noise as they worked against the stone. For a full minute, he remained transfixed by the sight before the motions of the thing stilled. It then unfolded itself from about the rock and expanded back to its original shape.

  To his utter surprise, it began rising in the air. The outer edges of the thing rippled in rhythmic waves as it rose. Holk had never seen anything like it. Coming off the ground, it returned to its previous position between the two halves of the split trunk. Reattaching itself, it grew still.

  Seconds passed as he kept watch upon the thing. When it looked as if no further movements were imminent, Holk cautio
usly made his way to where the rock lay on the ground. Holding the end of his staff out toward the thing in the event it made any sudden movement in his direction, he alternated the focus of his gaze between where the thing sat in the crook of the split tree, and the rock on the ground.

  As he drew closer, he saw where pockmarks scored the surface of the stone that hadn’t been there before. Making sure the thing remained in its position, he knelt next to the rock and examined it more closely.

  An unpleasant odor wafted up from the rock that caused his nose to wrinkle in distaste and his sinuses to burn. “Gah!” he exclaimed as he back-stepped quickly away. He didn’t stop until the noxious scent could no longer be detected.

  Holk turned an uneasy gaze upon the thing. “What are you?” But an even more important question plaguing him was whether or not it was alone in the forest. He scanned the nearby trees and turned up a second one attached between a bush and a fallen log; a third was positioned high in another tree. Altogether, he found six more of the things. To his horror, he found one lying prone upon the ground not far from where he had entered this part of the forest. Had his path taken him but two feet more to the right, it would have…

  A shudder coursed its way through him at the thought of his foot being treated as had the rock. That which would leave pockmarks upon stone, would assuredly have ruined his flesh. Holk was beginning to reconsider the wisdom of trying to escape along this particular route.

  Movement off to his right drew his attention to a seventh thing floating among the trees. Still fifteen feet away, it didn’t look as if it was heading in his direction, merely floating along. Deeper in the forest, another came into view.