The Mirror's Tale

by P. W. Catanese

  Parley’s head sank between his shoulders» “I never dreamed of such a horror. So what did Khorgon do?”

  “He decided to capture the Ulgonog instead of destroying it. Why? So he could boast of it, I suppose. Or perhaps he thought he could make it serve him and become all the greater for it. Khorgon’s apprentice, a wise and trusted Dwergh, tried to dissuade him, but the proud sorcerer would not listen. His plan was to weaken the Ulgonog, and then trap it. And he had a powerful weapon to help him: an amulet that shielded his mind from the demon’s prying eye. With this amulet around his neck, Khorgon crept into the lair of the Ulgonog and attacked with all the spell-craft he could muster. They say the ground shook and rumbled, and smoke and fire billowed out of the earth, and lightning seared the heavens, and everything stank of sulfur and charred flesh. Khorgon himself was nearly exhausted. But, finally, when he thought the time was right, and the Ulgonog was about to lose its earthly form and dissolve into nothing, the sorcerer brought forth his trap.”

  “But … what sort of trap … could catch a demon?” Parley asked, out of breath.

  “Not the sort you’d expect. This was a cage made of gold and glass. It had the form of a mirror.”

  Parley stumbled at the word, so that Kholl had to reach over and steady him. “A mirror?” Parley sputtered, “Not the same … !” He looked over his shoulder at Harth, who nodded gravely as he followed.

  “Yes. But in the end, it was the sorcerer who was trapped. Because the Ulgonog sensed that it was beaten, that it was about to fade from existence without the protection of the physical form that the sorcerer had ruined. So it did what Khorgon wanted: It let the mirror draw it in. The mirror that was meant to be its dungeon became its refuge instead. A place to rest and heal. But like a sly snake, the demon slithered around and probed its prison, seeking a way out. Eventually it discovered a flaw in the powerful spell that contained it. The Ulgonog whispered to Khorgon like it whispered to a thousand victims before. The mighty sorcerer foolishly set his protective amulet aside, and he was quickly seduced. Then Khorgon turned to evil. He used his magic to murder and enslave, bewitch his friends, transform animals into horrific monsters to terrorize his foes—”

  “Wait, please … I need rest,” Parley panted. He stopped and leaned against a pillar of rock. “And water” He took a long sip from the skin. “Tell me, how can you know all this? What, did Khorgon tell it?”

  “Khorgon’s apprentice,” Kholl said. “He witnessed everything, and barely escaped after Khorgon was possessed. But perhaps Harth should tell you that part.”

  Parley turned to Harth. The younger Dwergh was gulping water, and he wiped his mouth and brushed drops off his beard.

  “That apprentice was my father’s father,” Harth said. “He took the amulet with him when he fled, so Khorgon could not find him,”

  Parley rolled his eyes toward the dark rock above. “Honestly, this is more than my simple mind can handle,”

  “You’ve heard most of what you need to know,” Harth said, picking up the story while Kholl drank. “Once the Ulgonog—the mirror—possessed Khorgon, an age of terror began. And it lasted until Khorgon was used up, completely mad. Then Khorgon disappeared, taking the mirror with him. Somehow the mirror passed itself to a new owner. And once that victim was drained of life, the Ulgonog did it again—often sleeping for years in some secret place where its previous owner hid it away and probably perished at its side. But every time the mirror surfaced, dreadful things happened. New victims were possessed. Their evil deeds are legend to the Dwergh: Pankho the Cruel. Tilos the Beheader. The Robber King.”

  “And the Witch-Queen,” Parley whispered. “It was this … mirror that drove her mad”

  Kholl grunted. “Yes, the Witch-Queen. Forgive us, Par Lee. We should have suspected what was happening. But the Ulgonog was always the scourge of Dwergh, and never your folk. If we were wiser, we could have ended this a hundred years ago” The old Dwergh dug his calloused hand into his beard and rubbed his jaw, brooding. Then his gaze turned back to Parley; “What sort of boy is this baron’s son, the one at The Crags?”

  “Bert?” Parley said, stiffening. “He’s a good lad. With a good heart. He’s mischievous, but what boy isn’t? And just a little….” Parley clamped his teeth on his bottom lip, biting off the word.

  “A little what, Par Lee?” Kholl said, firm but quiet.

  “I don’t know,” Parley said. “Ambitious? Eager to … rule?” He looked wide-eyed at the Dwergh. “But he’s just a child. What use would a child be to such a … monster?”

  Harth picked up his sack and slung it over his shoulder again. “Come. We need to hurry.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Two of the baron’s men rode ahead of Will and two behind him. Between them the carriage rumbled along with nobody on board except Matthias on the driver’s perch. Will and Andreas were on their horses beside it.

  “How are you feeling?” Andreas said, leaning over and keeping his voice low.

  “Not bad,” Will replied. He took a deep breath and held it before exhaling. His jaw ached, and he knew it came from clenching it tight for hours. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea, he thought. The ache in his jaw became an urge to yawn, and he opened his mouth wide. The yawn seemed to last a minute. Sleep was elusive the night before, while the party rested under the stars. Every time he dozed off he woke a short while later, gasping for air, pawing at an invisible weight that pressed down on his chest.

  The way narrowed as it climbed and became the Cliff Road. Will and Andreas had to spur their horses to the front of the carriage, because there was little room on either side. To the left, the thick forest swallowed the rising land. And to the right, the valley fell away as the cliff grew, sheer and tall.

  This was the coolest day in a while, and the gloomiest. Thick clouds hung low overhead. Will looked up, wondering if it might rain, hoping it wouldn’t. Andreas would make him ride in the carriage, but Will felt better, braver, on his own horse.

  He heard something snap in the trees beside them. He turned to peer into the thick woods. A moment later, a shadowy form rushed across a narrow space between some trees. Will craned his neck toward the spot, staring. And just when he thought he’d only imagined it, he glimpsed a second shape. This time he saw it long enough to judge its speed—the same as theirs. Tracking us, he thought. He looked at Andreas, and saw the knight staring at the same spot through narrowed lids.

  “Did you see …?” Will said.

  “Yes,” Andreas replied.

  “What was it?”

  “Wolves, I think. Just looking us over, I’m sure. They’d never attack a party like this.”

  That should have made Will feel better, but his nerves still jangled. That glimpse had hinted at the creature’s size. It looked awfully big, even for a wolf. And the shape—he’d never seen anything like it. It was vaguely canine, but with shoulders as thick as a bear’s and … spikes on its back? Had he really seen that or was his nervous mind playing tricks? He shivered and scanned the forest, both eager and afraid to see more.

  A twig cracked in the trees. There was a rustle, and Will saw a branch shake as something struck it. He heard a metallic whisper nearby. Andreas had drawn his sword. Will wondered if he should draw his as well, but his hands clutched his reins so tight he wasn’t sure he could let go.

  Behind them, past the carriage, one of the soldiers shrieked. “What’s that? What’s that thing? There’s something in the trees!”

  “More than one!” another cried.

  “Did you see its eyes? Did you see those teeth?” the first said, his voice quaking.

  Andreas edged his horse between Will and the woods. His eyes darted ahead and behind, and he looked with regret at the precipice to their right. The cliff was so high now that the tallest trees in the valley barely reached the level of the road. “What would the general of the east say about this situation, Will?” he called out of the side of his mouth.

  Will couldn’t talk until he
’d gulped. “He’d say we chose bad terrain. And we should’ve—” but he didn’t get the rest out, because he spotted a nightmarish face in the woods, between a pair of trees. It wasn’t running this time. It just stared. At him.

  It was no wolf. And it wasn’t a bear or a badger or anything else he’d ever seen before, alive or dead. Its eyes were glazed white, and its nose was a gnarled black lump. Its mouth was horribly wide. Dreadful yellow teeth as long as fingers jutted from the jaws at strange angles in such disarray that the thing could never entirely close its mouth. And as if all those fangs weren’t enough, more teeth had punched through the skin of its throat and snout. Strings of rubbery drool dangled from the gaping maw.

  There was only one thing Will could imagine it might be. A name sprang suddenly to mind, the only one that made sense: the Beast of The Crags.

  The beast lurched down and out of sight. Will saw branches shake farther ahead—the beast had darted ahead of the party.

  “Get in the carriage” Andreas said calmly He raised his sword. “Driver, men—everyone stop!”

  Matthias, who’d gone as gray as the clouds overhead, pulled back on his reins and stopped the carriage. Will swung his leg over his horse and dropped to the ground. He heard a shout from ahead and behind, almost at the same time. Beyond the riders in front, a fearsome creature had leaped out of the woods. It crouched low to the road, whipped its head from side to side, and snapped at the air. Now that Will saw the entire thing in daylight, out of the murky trees, his mind didn’t want to believe what it was seeing. The beast had a leathery hide with ragged tufts of hair. Along its spine and its sides, knobs and plates and spikes of bone had erupted crazily from the flesh, forming a skeletal armor. Its tail ended in a heart-shaped lump of bone that looked as if it could crack a man’s skull as it lashed back and forth.

  The horses panicked, dancing madly backward while the men fought to control them. Behind the carriage, Will heard whinnies and shouts, and he knew that a second beast was on the road. A trap, his mind shouted. They planned this!

  “Get inside, Will!” Andreas shouted, and Will remembered what he was supposed to do. But as he turned toward the carriage he saw something explode from the trees and rush directly at him. Another one! How many now? His brain screamed at him to run, but his feet felt as if they were nailed to the road.

  “Move!” Andreas commanded in a voice so loud that it must have torn the flesh inside the knight’s throat. Will broke for the carriage. It was only a few steps. But he knew he’d hesitated too long, and the thing would reach him first.

  The beast crouched and sprang. Andreas swung his sword, but his horse reared in fright, and the blade sliced the air above the creature’s head. All Will could do was let his legs collapse underneath him, fall to the ground, and hope the beast would pass over him. He threw his arms across his head and felt something hard and sharp tear his sleeve, and heard the clack, clack of teeth gnashing. The beast had leaped too high. The claws of its rear legs scraped across Will’s shoulder as it sailed over him and sent Will tumbling along the ground, farther from the safety of the carriage.

  Will uncovered his head, uncertain even of which direction he was facing. He turned left and right, and realized what happened: The beast had leaped across the road entirely. Its hind legs were over the edge of the cliff, and it scrambled to get back onto the road. Andreas had dismounted, and he charged at the creature with his shield in one hand and his sword poised over his other shoulder. Will heard growls and snaps everywhere and the terrible whinny of a horse in agony.

  “Come on, Will!” shouted Matthias. The carriage rocked back and forth as its pair of horses lunged and reared, and Matthias struggled with the reins. Will ran for the door, wrenched it open, and pulled it shut. But it bounced open again. He looked down and saw the end of the sheathed sword that he wore sticking out at the bottom of the door, blocking it. He twisted his body, pulled the sword in, and slammed the door. Then he looked through the window to see what had happened to Andreas.

  The beast heaved itself up just as Andreas brought his sword down. There was a clang as the blade struck a knob of bone on the top of the thing’s head. The beast snapped at the knight, gnashing its jumble of teeth, and gathered itself to spring at him. Andreas brought his shield up as the beast leaped, and there was a thunderous crash of skull against metal. The knight fell on his back and the beast landed nearby on its side. The creature was up again a second later before Andreas could recover. The knight would have died there if not for a frantic horse with no rider that dashed by, its eyes huge and its teeth bared. The beast snapped at it, and the horse reared up on two legs, pawing at the air with its hooves. The horse stumbled backward, too close to the cliff. One hoof slipped over the ledge, and the rest of the poor animal followed.

  Andreas was on his feet again, thrusting his shield at the beast. “Go!” he shouted to Matthias, and “Clear a path!” to the men ahead.

  Matthias was eager to obey. He seized his whip and cracked the air over his horse’s tails. The carriage leaped forward. Will leaned out the window to see if Andreas was all right. A breath stuck in his throat as he watched the beast ignore the knight and race after the carriage, digging clumps of dirt with its wicked claws as it ran.

  Will’s hand came up and clutched his neck. “It wants we me.”

  The carriage rumbled past two of the baron’s men, who’d forced another one of the creatures to the side of the road, so the driver could pass. That beast leaped up the slope and into the trees. It emerged again beyond the men and joined the other in pursuit of the carriage. They barked as they ran. To Will’s horror the bark sounded like a word: “Death! Death!”

  There was a loud crash of wood splintering and nails popping. The carriage rocked high to one side and nearly tipped. Will heard a shout and saw Matthias tumble past the window. He had a moment to consider his plight: alone in a carriage with no driver, pulled by terrified horses, careening along a narrow road at the top of a cliff. And then, as a blast of hot stinking breath washed over him, he realized he wasn’t alone at all.

  CHAPTER 30

  Will turned to see the face of the beast inches from his own. It barked at him, loud as thunder. And there was no mistaking it: “Death!”

  The head stretched toward him, mouth open wide. Will leaned back to avoid being caught between the rows of jagged teeth that gnashed together.

  The beast had smashed a hole in the door on the left of the carriage. Its head and one of its legs were through, and it was trying to wriggle in the rest of the way. The hole splintered at the edges and widened as the creature thrashed back and forth. A second paw muscled through. Every one of the black claws was like a blunt dagger. The beast drew itself in another foot, and it lunged at Will again, forcing him to scramble to the other side of the carriage. He felt a tooth scrape his knee.

  Will tried to draw his sword, but the space was too cramped. He reached to his other side, where a knife was slung, and unsheathed it. The carriage lurched again, and he heard a heavy thud and a snarl from above. Another one on the roof! But still the carriage rolled faster as the crazed horses ran. The beat of their hooves sounded like a hailstorm.

  The wood crunched as the first beast squeezed its broad shoulders through the hole. Will pressed his back against the other door. The beast strained forward, stretching its neck, and Will turned his face to the side as the jaws snapped shut again. Flecks of hot drool spattered his cheek. It suddenly felt as if his heart had stopped midbeat. He couldn’t move his arms, and his legs were shaking. He was dimly aware that a high-pitched moan was slipping out from his mouth and that he was crying.

  Then words came to him: What’s on the other side of my fear?

  He still had the knife. With both hands on the grip, he screamed and shoved it as hard as he could into the underside of the monster’s jaw.

  The beast roared. Will glimpsed the blade inside its gaping mouth. The creature thrashed wildly and slipped out through the hole it had made. The car
riage bounced high, and Will heard a gruesome crunch, and he knew the rear wheel must have run over the fallen beast.

  Something hard and sharp slammed into Will’s back. He fell to the floor of the carriage, grimacing from the stinging pain. He looked back to see a clawed paw reaching through the other door, swiping at the space he’d just left.

  And then something went wrong with the carriage. It wobbled crazily as if a wheel was loose. There was a snapping, wrenching noise, and the sound of hammering hooves changed direction and grew more distant. The horses have broken away from the carriage, Will realized, as he lay on his back. But it’s still rolling!

  The carriage veered left, bounced off something unyielding—a tree or a boulder—and swerved right. And then, a strange quiet came. The only thing Will heard was the squeak, squeak of wheels spinning madly. His body floated as if he were light as air.

  I’m over the cliff, he thought. And in the moment that followed, he had time to wish that he’d seen his brother again before the end.

  The carriage came to a violent stop, sooner than he thought possible. He was hurled sideways into the cushioned seat. The carriage rolled until its front pointed up, and Will tumbled down to the back. He glanced at the door. The monstrous paw was gone. His breath came in great, heaving gasps as he lay there and waited for the next horrible development that would surely come.

  But for a long while nothing happened. The carriage rocked gently as if there was a baby inside that needed sleep. Will bent his elbows and wrists, his knees and ankles. Nothing seemed broken, though he couldn’t begin to count the bruises. His instincts told him that all was not yet well, so he stood slowly until he could look through the hole that the beast had torn in the side of the carriage.