The Crow Behind the Mirror_Book One of the Mirror Wars

by Sean M. Hogan

  “I don’t understand, why me?” Eric asked as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the ritual page, now crumbled in his fist. “Why did you give this to me?” He had to know. Why did Able choose him among the countless? For what higher purpose, if any, did my sacrifice serve?

  Able gazed up at the clearing sky, shooting stars and comets streaked across the black night in lightning bolts of pure light. An aurora borealis light spectacle floated above like the crashing waves of an ocean of living rainbow. The stars forming constellations of fallen gods and mythical heroes locked-in eternal struggles until the universe itself faded into the nothingness from which it was birthed. For once a glimmer of humanity shined in Able’s eyes.

  “I’ve grown tired of running from world to world, clinging to existence,” said Able. “If life is meaningless, cruel, and unforgiving... Immortality is surely hell. Besides I’m bored, there’s simply nothing to look forward to anymore. I guess part of me still clings to the hope that there was something... Some point to all this. What was my lot in all this chaos I ask myself? You see, the sand wipes everything clean, even great statues of stone erode away in time. So, passing down knowledge to mere mortals is a waste. What’s the use if it’s just going to be forgotten? I needed someone to carry on what I’ve learned. For better or worse, you’re my legacy.”

  Those final words struck Eric like a knife in the gut. He lunged for an ax resting next to the campfire and charged Able, roaring at the top of his lungs. “I’ll kill you, you little bastard!”

  The horse spooked, rose on its back legs, and gave out a panicked cry. In one fluid motion, Eric ripped Able from his saddle and slammed him to the ground. He raised the ax above his head, aimed, and sent the ax hurling down.

  Thud!

  Everything went quiet.

  Eric’s rage subsided with a few deep controlled breaths.

  The wind stopped along with the falling snow. The blizzard’s fury died out.

  Then the high-pitched sound of a child’s laughter broke the silence. No, it was a darker more twisted and hollow laugh than anything Eric had ever heard from a child before. Able’s laugh.

  The ax’s blade lay imbedded in the middle of the boy’s skull, the wooden handle sticking out from his forehead like a unicorn’s horn. Dark blood streamed down the bridge of his nose and trailed off the sides of his cheeks.

  Able broke out in a horrible, wicked convulsive laugh now. It was if he was possessed by the devil himself reveling in the fall of man. The absurdity of grace. The hypocrisy of perfection. Then he stopped and gazed up at Eric with all the coldness in this world and the next.

  “You’ll get to know it in time, the shape of your sin,” said Able. “I wonder what it looks like. Mine is well... quite unpleasant.”

  Eric froze, his eyes unable to hold back the stench of his fear. His sin. The monster of his own making who he had left behind in that prison cell—who beat him back to his village and murdered every last soul whoever spoke his name out loud—was still out there. Somewhere in the blackness of night, she was waiting for him.

  CHAPTER 10

  Lizard King

  SHARON OPENED HER EYES. Muted flames from a fireplace illuminated the dark room, the sole light source. She saw a shadow move over her and felt something wet and warm graze her forehead. The young woman with pale gray eyes gazed down at her as she lay in bed, delicately dabbing a damp cloth over the gash on her forehead and wiping away the dried blood. She wore a simple faded autumn green dress and tan laced bodice over a white blouse.

  “Where am I?” Sharon asked, her head still spinning, blending her thoughts into a half-dream mess.

  “Shhh, it’s all right,” the young woman spoke softly. “You’re somewhere safe. You had a bad spill. You injured your head.” She gave Sharon an uneasy smile. It seemed forced and drained of any joy.

  “I have to get back.” She tried sitting up in bed, but the young woman gently restrained her.

  “Get back where?”

  “Home. To the mirror. I shouldn’t be here. The crow tricked me.”

  “It’s not safe to travel in your condition. Besides, there may be reekers still out there.”

  “Reekers? You mean those wolves?”

  The young woman’s eyes lit up with a flood of emotion.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong, Sharon. It’s just that I haven’t heard anyone use that word in a long time.”

  Sharon frowned. “How do you know my name?”

  She held up Sharon’s high school I.D. card. “I apologize for going through your personal things. But I needed to know who you were and when I stripped you of your wet clothes this fell out.” She held up a black, damp leather wallet.

  “My clothes?” Sharon peeked under the fur covers and found herself stark naked.

  “Don’t worry you, I wrung them out and put them next to the fireplace to dry. If they aren’t dry by morning you can borrow some of mine.”

  “I would appreciate that... Thank you... for saving me, ummm...”

  “Michelle.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Michelle.” She offered her hand and Michelle shook it.

  “And my brother’s name is Matthew.” Michelle motioned over to the doorway.

  Matthew peeked out from behind the door frame and gave Sharon a shy wave and smile.

  She waved back.

  Michelle’s expression changed as her gaze fell to a photo in the wallet. In the picture, Grace held a five-year-old Sharon in her arms, behind them was the beach and ocean. They were both smiling. “You’re lucky.”

  Sharon scoffed. “I haven’t been lucky a day in my life. I’m the queen of bad luck. And after today I think I’ll have to go track down a leprechaun and force him to give me an exorcism and a rabbit’s foot enema.”

  Michelle glided her thumb across the face of the photo. “You look happy together, you and your mother. It must be nice to have someone to return to. The most precious thing one can possess in this world is family.”

  “I don’t think my father got that memo,” she whispered to herself.

  Michelle put back the photo and placed the wallet next to Sharon’s side. “When Matthew was a baby and I was just a little girl, a wolf...” She stopped herself, took a moment and continued. “A reeker took our mother and father from us. Just like they almost took you today.” She glanced at Matthew. “It’s just us now.”

  Matthew walked over and hugged her. She wrapped her arm around him.

  “I’m sorry,” said Sharon, unsure what other words to use.

  “We barely made it out with our lives.” She clenched her hands into fists, scrunching up her worn green skirt. “If I could, I’d kill every last one of their monstrous kind.”

  “You’ll get no complaints from me.”

  “You said you came from the mirror?”

  “Yeah, all I did was touch the damn thing and—poof—I’m in the middle of the woods freezing my ass off.”

  “Strange, I was under the impression that only Mirror Guardians could use the mirrors.”

  “Did I travel back in time or something? Or am I in another one of the crow’s dreams? I can’t tell anymore,” said Sharon, her thoughts still fuzzy.

  Michelle’s gave her an odd look. “You should get some sleep.” She stood up, suddenly. “We’ll answer your questions in the morning.” She took Matthew by the hand and led him out the door.

  Stopping to take hold of the doorknob, she glanced back at Sharon and took in a deep breath of air. “Goodnight.” She closed the door behind her.

  Sharon watched the flames dance in the fireplace for some time, basking in their warm glow before dozing off.

  ***

  A long shadow extended out toward her bed, snaking across the wood floor and dancing in the fire’s light.

  A whisper leaked in from outside. “She’s right you know.”

  A dark figure floated to the window, quietly pushed opened the glass shutters, and levitated inside.
Joy landed without a sound, tiptoeing into the light and stalking toward Sharon like some dark, twisted version of Peter Pan, the infamous child thief. He stood over her and stared at her for the longest time, admiring her beauty. Then, satisfied, he knelt before her, resting his ear on her chest, and listened to her heart beat.

  “You need to conserve your strength for what lies ahead,” Joy spoke with intoxicating warmth, closing his eyes and breathing in Sharon’s exhaled breaths. He fed on her scent, memorizing it as if he was a vampire tasting her blood for the first time. “No sense in rushing things and risk causing more harm than good.” He touched the tips of his index and middle finger to his red lips, kissing them, and pressed them against her lips. A goodnight’s kiss. Tears swelled in his eyes, tears of pure absolute joy. “Changing one’s reality takes a lot of time and energy. Such a task would be better reserved for a later date.”

  Joy levitated back to the windowsill, perching outward toward the night. He glanced back at Sharon, smiling, always smiling, endlessly. “Until then, sweet dreams, beautiful.”

  ***

  Sharon slept a dreamless sleep, empty black thoughts sailing on a sea of void. She woke peacefully in the morning but stayed in bed till noon, too sore to move. She took the opportunity to gather her thoughts and memories, and distinguish between the real and the dream. The memory of that boy in the black hospital gown and his icy touch came flooding in. How he saved her from the reekers and how the branches slipped right through him. Is he a ghost like the crow? No, maybe he is the crow, both one and the same. Perhaps all lost souls rode on the backs of crows, silently ferried to the land of the dead. Perhaps once, every now and then, one would lose their way and become lost between the realm of the living and the hereafter. Trapped in purgatory. But why did he bring me here? If he meant me harm, he could have just sleepwalked me into oncoming traffic. No, he brought me here for a purpose. But where is here? And why me?

  Sharon sat up and planted her feet on the hardwood floor. She took her clothes Michelle had laid out for her on the foot of the bed and dressed herself. Good, they’re dry. I would have hated wearing a dress. Next to the fireplace was a pair of simple medieval looking black boots. She put them on. A bit snug, but they’d have to do. Did I go back in time or something? I was saved by a knight, after all. She walked over to the window and gazed out. The sky was still pink. The moon bigger, closer than the one she knew back home. Traveling back in time might account for a larger moon. Since the moon is gradually leaving Earth’s orbit, so the further back in time the bigger the moon. But a pink sky? She didn’t have an answer.

  The wind picked up, growing colder as it passed through the white mountains. She could just make out the temple in the distance. The temple was oddly Egyptian in design, monolithic and unfathomably old. Going back now would be pointless without the crow. Though maybe I don’t need the crow. Michelle mentioned something about Mirror Guardians last night. Maybe I could find one to take me back home. She still had hope. She wouldn’t let the crow win.

  ***

  Sharon descended the stairs and headed into the den of the cabin when the mouthwatering scent of baked pastry reminded her how hungry she was. Matthew was already at the table, greedily stuffing his face with a crescent-shaped pastry pocket treat. It smelled similar to a chicken pot pie. Michelle, trading in her suit of armor for an apron, reminded him to use his manners before inviting Sharon for lunch.

  Sharon sat down and forced herself to eat small bites, savor the taste, and not wolf it down.

  “Come meet me outside when you’re finished,” Michelle told her, taking off her apron and stepping out the front door. “I have something to show you.”

  ***

  Sharon stared at the reekers, hanging from the side of the cabin, now just empty husks of skin and fur. Their gaping mouths were full of teeth and pairs of pale dead eyes protruded out of their skulls. Up close they looked almost African in origin, their antlers spiraling like a gazelle or a Dorcas deer’s horns. Maybe that’s it. These reekers are a completely new species. I didn’t travel back in time but to another world. These creatures must have shared a common ancestor that came through the mirror long ago and, in isolation, evolved into predators. Sharon wondered what she might evolve into if she stayed here long enough.

  Whoosh. Thud.

  Michelle let an arrow fly, impaling a bale of frostbitten hay a few yards away. A slab of leather served as her target.

  “Thanks for the meal and spare boots,” said Sharon. “I wish I could repay you somehow.”

  Michelle focused on her target. “No need.” She let another arrow fly. “Thanks to you I can feed Matthew and me for three months at least. Reeker fur and antlers catch a high price down in the city.” She gave Sharon a devilish smirk. “You make great bait.”

  “Glad I could be of service,” she said dryly, sizing Michelle up in her plain emerald green dress. “So, no suit of armor today, my heroic knight? What, are the crusades over early this year?”

  “I only wear armor when I go hunting,” replied Michelle as she fired another arrow. “You were foolish to trek these woods unprotected. Especially now that the weather has gotten so bad.”

  “You think that was foolish.” Sharon laughed. In one week, she had already punched a girl, got suspended from school, vandalized a mansion, and narrowly dodged becoming wolf kibble. She couldn’t imagine what she could accomplish in two. “Give me a little more time, and I’ll blow your mind.”

  Sharon gazed up at the gathering murky clouds. More snow is coming for sure and a drop-in temperature. “But yeah, it’s a literal ice age out here. So where is here exactly?” she asked, the gravity of traveling to another world finally donning on her.

  “We’re deep in pig-run territory,” answered Michelle.

  She raised an eyebrow. “What’s a pig-run?”

  “So, you really are from another world.”

  “I guess that makes me an alien. But don’t worry. Aside from the occasional cow abduction and probing of rednecks, I come in peace.” Sharon flashed the Vulcan hand sign. “So, what can you tell me about your world?”

  Michelle’s face tightened as she pulled back on her bowstring with all her might, sending the arrow crashing into the target with a thunderous thud. “My world, Tuat, is a cruel and wretched place where the strong rule and the weak are subjugated.”

  Tuat? The word sounded Egyptian. The mirror, the newspaper clipping with her father, the temple, and those reekers. Sharon was noticing a correlation. But Michelle and Matthew both looked more European in ethnicity. And Michelle’s suit of armor was clearly late medieval in design. The metalwork far too impressive to be the work of some amateur. No, whoever made it spent decades learning how. The mirror must have been used as a gateway or portal for the migrations of humans to this Tuat place. And there had to be more than one migration. “I take it I came at a bad time?”

  “You could say that, if there ever was a good time to come to Tuat,” replied Michelle. “Ever since the endless winter descended upon Tuat, the three kingdoms that divide up our world have been at war. Kingdoms ruled by nothing more than glorified tyrants who refer to themselves as gods.”

  “So, is that why you guys live all the way out here? Alone and isolated?”

  “Yes. Matthew and I try to lead uncomplicated, unmolested lives and do our best not to become collateral damage.” She faced Sharon. “I suggest you adopt the same policy while you stay here.”

  Sharon nodded in agreement.

  Michelle motioned for her to come over. “Regardless of who you are or where you came from, you should at least learn how to protect yourself.” She handed Sharon her bow and moved her hands to the proper positions. “Focus on the target.”

  Sharon took aim, pulled back the bowstring, and let go. The arrow landed a few feet from the barrel of hay.

  “Again,” Michelle commanded her.

  Sharon fired another arrow. She hit the bottom of the hay.

  “Better. Again.”
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  Sharon did as she was instructed, firing arrow after arrow until she finally hit the leather target.

  “Good, tomorrow I’ll take you to the city,” Michelle said, heading to the cabin. “Someone there should know where to find a Mirror Guardian. In the meantime, I want you to keep practicing.” She smirked back at Sharon. “There’s nothing worse than a damsel in distress.”

  ***

  The night grew cold and cruel. The wind picked up, hurling the snow and hail viciously sideways, pelting the cabin and laying siege to its walls. The wood ached as the temperature dropped, sounding off in audible cries. Matthew brushed the bristled mane of a dark brown horse while it drank from a trough in the barn.

  Michelle pushed open the barn doors and stepped inside. She raised her lamp in Matthew’s direction, painting him and the horse in a halo of firelight and stretching their shadows to the size of giants.

  “After you’ve finished with your chores I want you to wash up and go to bed,” she said.

  Matthew squirmed. “But it’s still early.”

  “Tomorrow we’ve got to make a trip to the city. And we’ll have to leave by dawn if we want to get there before nightfall.”

  “Because of the girl?”

  “Yes.”

  Matthew’s eyes lit up and he half-smiled. “Her clothes were pretty funny. Do you really think she’s from another world?”

  A rush of pale overtook Michelle’s face, her cheeks draining to the color of a blind cave fish.

  “What’s wrong?” Matthew asked, his expression now matching his sister’s. He followed her line of sight, she was looking above and beyond him. Something was behind him. He spun around, tightening his muscles in a brace for whatever horrors that lay in wait. But only a bare wall stood behind him. Matthew let out a breath of air. Then something caught his gaze. Movement between the cracks of the wood planks. Light mirrored back in two darting eyes.