The Crow Behind the Mirror_Book One of the Mirror Wars

by Sean M. Hogan

  “Report, Tusk-raw,” commanded Khaba.

  Tusk-raw, the large spotted pig-run, rose to his feet. “Looks like they were telling the truth. The girl’s not here.” He glanced over at three bodies.

  A man, a woman, and a little girl lay face down in the snow. Motionless. Their clothes soaked with blood.

  “Burn it down,” Khaba ordered his horde of pig-runs with a growl. “Then we’ll move to the next village.” As he wiped the blood from his ax he spotted Dew-paw by his side.

  “They were unarmed,” said Dew-paw, his voice trembling. “Where is the honor in this?”

  “There is no honor in war,” replied Khaba. “To hold such delusions invites defeat. Besides, humans deserve no such courtesies. Or have you forgotten the atrocities committed along the River of Crying?”

  Dew-paw’s voice steadied. “I have not.”

  “Good, because that horror is what awaits us again if we lose this war.” Khaba turned his back on him and headed for his army. “The ice has spread to every corner of our world not touched by the barrier of the Pyramid of Life. Two thirds of the lands within its protection are controlled by our enemies. The last third, our third, is mostly desert. We don’t have enough farmlands to feed us for much longer. In one year’s time, we will all starve.”

  Dew-paw scurried after him, struggling to keep pace. “But how can we claim our cause to be just if we become what we fight against?”

  “I already told you not to hold such delusions,” Khaba snapped back at him. “Don’t you get it? If we don’t find that girl, we’re going to lose this war.” He pointed to the forest ahead. “That false Mirror Guardian took her north, toward the Sacred Forest. If we don’t capture her before she goes in too deep, before our enemies do, we’ll never get her back.”

  Dew-paw shook his head. “But how will killing innocents help us find her?”

  “Innocents?” Khaba’s eyes widened with fury. “They murdered our parents.”

  “Not these humans,” said Dew-paw. “They weren’t the ones.”

  “It’s either them or us. I choose us.”

  “This is not like you, Khaba. This is not what our parents would have wanted. Winning like this will not give their deaths meaning.” He placed his hand on Khaba’s, as if he was a small three-year-old boy trying to get the attention of his father. “Have that boy’s words changed you so much?”

  “You are too familiar, Dew-paw.” Khaba growled, brushing the pig-run’s hand aside. “Remember your place. We may be brothers—but never forget I am still your king, your god.”

  Dew-paw shrunk back and averted his eyes to the ground. “Forgive me, my lord.”

  “For I can assure you, I have not forgotten my duties and responsibilities to my subjects, to our parents. I will never again let that hell befall my people. Even if I must become a monster in the process.” He roared to his warriors. “I don’t care how long it takes. Find her!”

  ***

  “It’s all about your thoughts,” said Joy, ducking under a branch. “You are what you think. I think therefore I am.” He glanced back at Sharon as she trailed after him. “Nothing exists beyond the reality of your own mind. The prison our consciousness imposes upon us. So why think unhappy thoughts? It serves no purpose.”

  Music filled the air, a sweet melody emanating from a flute.

  “Ah, just the sound I wanted to hear,” said Joy, as he pushed ahead through a thicket of vines.

  A small two-foot-tall elfish creature, more plant than animal, sat on the stump of a tree. He played a flute in his little solo concert for a gathering of a group of rodents, birds, and bugs. They all sat quietly listening, swaying along with the music, entranced by the soothing melody.

  “What is he?” Sharon asked, stopping to gawk at the strange little elfling, losing herself in the music as well.

  “He’s a member of the third race of Tuat, the tree-sprites.”

  “Are they the ones who killed that family back at the stream?” she asked.

  “Most likely, yes,” he answered. “Those arrows were of the tree-sprite variety. Usually, tree-sprites are known for their peaceful nature. In fact, it was once considered a good omen to spot one. But with all the conflict between the other races, they’ve gotten very territorial—declaring war on all intruders, human or pig-run.”

  “Are we in danger?” she asked.

  “As long as you’re with me they won’t become aggressive. For some reason, they’re scared of me. Moki here is the only one I’ve managed to coax out.” Joy pointed to the tree canopies.

  In the shadows of the leaves, dozens of yellow glowing eyes with black pupil slits spied down on them, blinking in and out of existence.

  Sharon took hold of his arm and squeezed tight. “How long have they been following us?”

  “Since we touched down in the Sacred Forest.”

  Moki stopped playing his wooden flute and raised his yellow gaze to Sharon and Joy.

  The small animals broke from their trance and scattered into the forest.

  “So, it’s you again, the boy with red thoughts,” said Moki, scowling at Joy. “I told you before—outsider—I’m not telling you where it is.” He rocked back and forth in a rhythmic gesture, snapping his fingers compulsively. “Red thoughts, bad thoughts, red thoughts, bad thoughts, red thoughts, bad thoughts...” He chanted like he was warding off evil spirits.

  Sharon gave Joy a perplexed look.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Did I forget to mention he’s a little different?”

  She sighed. “Maybe that’s why he’s the only one you could find?”

  “Go away red thoughts, you are not welcome,” said Moki. “Go away, go away, go away...” he chanted at a feverish pace.

  “You might want to reconsider telling me where the Tree of Life is, Moki, considering this girl’s life depends on it.” Joy gestured to Sharon, nudging her with his elbow.

  She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Well, go on,” he whispered.

  “Right,” she said, muscling up the courage to walk up to the small elfish creature. “Hello—Moki—is it?” She inched closer. “My name’s Sharon, Sharon Ashcraft.”

  Moki’s gaze met hers.

  She smiled in response.

  He averted his gaze.

  “I’m a little lost, Moki. I thought you might want to help me.” She knelt down to his level. “You see, I accidentally touched one of those magic mirrors and got trapped in your world. But for some reason, it won’t work for me again unless I move my soul to the outside. And I can’t do that until I find the Tree of Life and perform the ritual. So, do you know where the Tree of Life is, Moki?”

  Moki remained silent.

  She spotted something in the corner of her vision. A patch of blue wild flowers next to her foot. She plucked a flower from its stem and lifted it to her nose and took in its scent. A familiar smell, sweet with a hint of subtle bitterness like overripe fruit.

  “My father used to give my mother blue flowers when she was having a bad day,” she said, presenting the flower to Moki. “Somehow it would always bring a smile to her face.”

  Moki took the flower in his tiny hands, held it up next to Sharon’s blue eyes, and smiled. “Blue thoughts, good thoughts,” he recited with a childlike grin. “You have the bluest thoughts I have ever seen, pretty girl. As blue as magic. But they are tiny, like this flower. You let the bad ones cloud out the sun so they don’t grow,” he said, holding out the flower for her as if she would understand if she just got a closer look. “You can’t grow a garden without sunlight. Just let the clouds go and they will blossom, you’ll see.”

  “Sure...” she said. “I’ll keep that under consideration. So, does this mean you will help me?”

  “Of course, I will help,” said Moki. “You are the one I’ve been waiting for, after all.”

  “Me?” asked Sharon.

  “Yes—Gabriel said you’d come one day,” he said with a few nods. “He said that if I came to thi
s exact spot every day and played… eventually, a girl with very blue thoughts would hear my song and ask me for help.”

  She squinted at him. “Who’s Gabriel?”

  “That answer is for later. But for now, if you want to find the tree, all you have to do is say hello. It will listen.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  Moki extended his hand.

  She mirrored his movement.

  The air in front of them started to glow, blue ripples pulsing out from their hands.

  “The Pyramid of Life is not a barrier or a wall but a solid life force,” said Moki, “powered by a solitary soul. The soul of a single tree in the center of our Sacred Forest.”

  The blue parted like a waterfall, revealing a beautiful meadow by a glowing blue pond and a huge golden tree.

  “So, this is where you’ve been hiding it,” said Joy, stepping over. “In plain sight. Clever, using the barrier like a mirror to reflect light.”

  Sharon stepped on through.

  ***

  Sharon touched down on the meadow, the grass she walked on shimmering with a life force all its own. The air heavy and dense, making it difficult to catch her breath. Hundreds of blue flowers lit her way, reflecting light like tiny individual moons. Luminescent bugs darted in random patterns in the sky, singing their unique mating calls with a flutter of wings. She peered out toward the golden tree. Then something ahead made her freeze in place.

  A unicorn stepped out from behind the enormous golden tree. Flowers sprang forth and grew where ever her hooves touched soil. She dipped her head down and drank from the blue pond. Her pure white fur and silver mane sparkled in the sunlight like a sea of diamonds. She raised her head. Her golden horn spiraled light outward like the unraveling of a firefly’s wax paper wings.

  The unicorn set her sights on Sharon with eyes blazing with the intensity of two golden suns.

  They just stared at each other for a brief timeless moment.

  Joy stepped through the portal and into the meadow, crunching leaves as he pressed his weight down behind her. “I knew bringing you here was a good idea.”

  His words stole her gaze from the unicorn.

  “It took me weeks just to get Moki to talk to me and you… you get the tree’s secret location out of him in a matter of minutes.”

  When she turned back, the unicorn was gone. “Did you see that?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat.

  “See what?” he asked with a shrug.

  “Never mind,” she said, not sure if Joy would even believe her. Hell, I’m having trouble believing my own eyes. Did I really just see a unicorn?

  “Time to get to work,” he said, pointing to a circle of blue painted rocks near the pond.

  She walked over and stood in the middle of the circle. “Why did the tree-sprites put these rocks here?”

  “To them the circle is sacred. It is a portal to the soul and a key part of the ritual.” He headed to the pond, picking up a grapefruit-sized, hollowed out seedpod. He broke it in two and, using one side like a cup, he scooped up the magical water. “The first step is loosening your soul’s hold on your flesh.” He handed her the seedpod.

  She stared down at the glowing liquid, unsure.

  “Go on, drink it.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe?”

  “Yes, of course. You’re not the first to taste these waters.”

  “So, after we perform this ritual I can use the mirror to get back home? As simple as that?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, you only live once.” Sharon took a sip. Her eyes lit up. “Wow, it actually tastes sweet. Almost like sugar water.”

  He pulled out a dagger. “There is one catch though,” he said, stalking toward Sharon, the blade pointed her direction.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, stepping back.

  Joy grinned like a hungry alligator. “Any ritual worth its salt demands blood.”

  Sharon turned to run, but she was too slow.

  Joy lunged at her, grabbing her right hand and slicing her palm with a quick slash down the middle.

  She grimaced in pain as she let out a muffled shriek and jerked her hand back, dropping the seedpod. She formed a fist and sent it hurling toward Joy—slugging him hard across the face.

  He fell backward from the force of the blow and landed on his ass.

  A trickle of blood fell from her palm. She cupped her hand against her chest. The blood droplets splashed before her feet within the stone circle.

  The stones lit up, illuminating the circle. Blue light poured out and covered her body in a layer of aura. Her entire body went numb.

  Joy wiped the blood from the corner of his swollen lips. “They say the water that flows from the Tree of Life can make the subconscious conscious, the spiritual physical, and turn illusion into reality.” He grinned a bloody smile. “But do you know what the best part is?”

  Her world spun violently. “What the hell did you do to me?”

  “Those who drink this water lose all their memories. It’s the price one pays for eternal bliss.”

  “You tricked me—you bastard!”

  He shook his head. “I saved you.”

  She fell to her knees, her balance faltering and her legs unresponsive to her will. “You poisoned me...” She felt like her body was being devoured by pure energy, a wicked disease of blue spreading over her as she burned from existence.

  “Don’t be silly, Sharon, I like you and this way we can be together forever.” He got up to his feet, walked over to her and knelt down. “Besides, since neither of us knows where your father is, this is our only option. But don’t worry.” He brushed aside the loose strands of hair from her eyes. “You’re just going to take a little trip into the Dreamtime.”

  “Please... stop it... I don’t...” Her thoughts trailed off, her mind lapsing into a dream-like state as she hit the ground.

  The world around her started to change, the colors melting and blending together like collecting streaks of wet paint. When the colors receded, pooling and draining beneath her, they left only formless black behind.

  Joy melted like a wax sculpture. “Let it go, Sharon.”

  Then even he was gone and she could only hear his voice.

  “Your painful memories. Your past. Let it wash away like the dirt from your hands. And in time you will forget yourself. Then this world will be our own Eden, you’ll see.”

  She gazed down at her hands and watched the black liquid bubble up and swallow her fingers one by one.

  “Sweet dreams, beautiful.” She felt his warm lips press against her forehead as he gave her one last goodnight’s kiss.

  The oily liquid rose past her head and Sharon drowned in a sea of black.

  CHAPTER 15

  The Dreamtime

  BLACK FEATHERS DESCENDED from the gray sky, sprinkling down like tiny snowflakes on the still, ebony sea. They melted the way gold coins do floating on molten lava, adding more to the infinite darkness.

  Sharon’s lungs ached for precious oxygen. She gasped for air only to choke on the oily liquid. She was under water—that much she knew—her body rising with the upward push of the currents as if she was an air bubble released from the seabed. She struggled to right herself, thrashing her arms and legs, but dared not fight against the current. Her strength was waning. If she passed out now she’d be dead. She paddled up or what she believed was up, her balance lost and her vision shrouded in black.

  Sharon burst through the surface of the water. Her mouth gaped open with the desperation of a dying fish as she gasped for life—stealing gulps of the heavy odorless gray sky and filling her lungs with glorious air.

  She caught her breath as she waded with the sloshing waves. Am I dreaming again? Something about this dream felt different this time. Her mind was clear, focused, and aware—as if she was still awake.

  Ahead, an object grabbed her attention. An island of black rock and sand, piercing out of the water like an iceberg.

  She
swam toward the island and within a few minutes her feet hit solid ground. Walking up to knee-deep shallows she gathered herself and regained her strength. Her gaze rose to a large, black as roasted wood, tree stump.

  On the stump sat a ghost-white boy with jet-black hair. It’s the same boy from before—the boy who saved me from the reekers. But he looked different this time. More crow-like with two long crow wings protruding from his back. He wore a black satin sash draped around his waist that covered most of his lower body. Feathers blanketed his legs and forearms. His feet were crow’s feet. The boy had become a dark angel, a Crow Boy.

  The Crow Boy’s eyes rose and met Sharon’s gaze.

  She lost the air from her lungs.

  His eyes were gold, the whites of his eyes inverted to solid black.

  Both their gazes became linked for a breathless moment.

  The expression in the Crow Boy’s eyes—hopeless and devoid of spark. He extended his arm, opening his hand in the process. An invitation.

  She headed up the small island and climbed to the Crow Boy’s severed tree. Cautiously, she stepped toward him, entranced in his gaze. She mirrored him, extending her arm as well.

  Their fingers met, interlocking in embrace.

  He pulled her hand in and placed it over his bare chest then closed his golden eyes.

  She closed her eyes too, following his lead.

  Slowly, she felt their heartbeats fall in sync—as if they were singing a duet together, their hearts the instruments.

  Then, suddenly, Sharon’s heartbeat fell out of sync, beating like a furious drum.

  Whack! She ripped her hand from the Crow Boy’s grip and slapped him across his face.

  The Crow Boy opened his eyes, his silent expression turning to one of shock.

  “You think you can just manipulate me to get whatever you want?” she screamed, tears swelling in her eyes, her cheeks red-hot. “Go to hell. All of you can go to hell.” She clenched her fist, cocking her arm back for another strike. A punch this time. “I never had a choice!”