“There would be a division of energy too, if the entire universe split in two,” Caleb added, after a moment. “If there’s a split for every little choice, how long would it be until the universe ran out of energy and died?”
Emily had no answer. If Caleb was right, the universe should have run out of energy and destroyed itself by now, perhaps a long time before humanity had come into existence. Unless... she shook her head. There was no way to know. Perhaps something big had to change before the universe split in two. Or perhaps there was an infinite supply of energy. Or perhaps the energy supply itself was twinned too. She simply didn’t know.
“We’d have to experiment,” she said slowly, “although I have no idea where to begin.”
“Perhaps we should check our memories,” Caleb said. “When did we last see each other? Before we came here?”
“Beneficence,” Emily recalled. “I escaped Jacqui and ran to you.”
“That’s what I think,” Caleb said. They shared a handful of other memories and discovered their memories matched. “Perhaps the changes only started when we came here.”
“After the nexus point was reignited,” Emily mused.
She forced herself to think. She hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary when she’d been taken to Heart’s Eye by Alanson, but... she hadn’t known enough to tell if something was wrong. Had power started flowing back into the mirrors? It was possible, she supposed. The school’s original wards were gone—they’d died with the nexus point—but if someone had set up a power tap that didn’t rely on spellwork, it might have survived the years without power. But how was that even possible? Spellware—insubstantial spellware—was the only thing that could survive the fury of a nexus point. Unless...
There could be spellwork inside the mirrors, she thought. I put spellwork in a pocket dimension. Someone else could have put it inside the mirrors themselves.
“We need to get to the bottom of it,” she said. She had no idea how to quench the nexus point—and she certainly didn’t want to try, not when it might be utterly disastrous. “If we check the mirrors, we can start inspecting the ones that feel odd to us.”
“Yeah.” Caleb followed her as they walked down the corridor. “Maybe we should just try painting them over.”
Emily smiled at him. “That might work,” she said. “Why did they even need so many in the first place?”
She puzzled over it as they moved from mirror to mirror. They really were everywhere, from mirrors easily large enough for both of them to tiny little mirrors that wouldn’t have been out of place in a lady’s handbag. Emily checked them, one by one, and found nothing. They were just mirrors, but... she knew there had to be a reason. Were they windows into alternate realms? Or... she wasn’t sure that was true. It would be stretching probability too far to assume that she and her counterparts would be looking into the same mirrors at the same time.
If I hadn’t lost my powers, I wouldn’t be here now, Emily thought. And in a universe where I never lost them, I would have gone to Heart’s Eye earlier.
“What do we do if we can’t get rid of the mirrors?” Caleb’s voice was grim. “Or if we can’t cover them all?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. “There has to be some way to keep them from affecting us.”
“Or maybe they lost control,” Caleb said. “That might be what killed them. Not the necromancer battering on the gates, but something they’d set up themselves.”
“We may never know,” Emily said. “We might need to find a way to remove the mirrors.”
She shook her head in frustration. They’d tried, several times. The mirrors remained firmly fixed to the walls. Indeed, they were practically part of the walls. She’d even watched an apprentice grab a hammer and try to smash the nearest mirror, only to have the hammer bounce off the mirror without leaving a mark. The mirrors felt real, but... Emily was sure they weren’t real mirrors. They were something else. She just didn’t know what.
“It may be impossible,” Caleb said. “And if it is impossible, what then?”
“Nothing is impossible,” Emily said. She could go back to the nexus point and fiddle with the spellware, trying to determine where the power was actually going. If there was some kind of spell locking the mirrors in place, making it impossible to damage or remove them, she’d find it. And then the power could be diverted elsewhere. “We just have to figure out how to do it.”
They stepped into a classroom and looked around. A handful of mirrors were positioned on the walls, their reflections looking back curiously. Emily glared, trying to spot any differences. If there were any, they were too subtle to see. On impulse, she raised a hand and waved. It didn’t look as though her reflection was reacting to her.
“It’s just a reflection,” Caleb said. He shook his head. “This isn’t going to work.”
“We can’t just give up,” Emily said. “We’ve gone too far to stop now.”
She glared at the mirror. Her reflection glared back. She was grimly determined not to fail, even if she had to search the entire building time and time again to parse out its secrets. It wasn’t just the vast amount of money she’d expended in the last few weeks. It was the simple fact the university was necessary. She couldn’t take the risk of setting it up somewhere without a nexus point. It would become a political football in the constant struggles between kingdoms—and magical communities—if she couldn’t enforce its neutrality.
And Master Highland probably won’t let me quit either, she thought. He’d take the building for himself if I let him.
They moved from room to room, making a list of each of the mirrors before checking them for stray magic. There was nothing, beyond a few vague sensations that slipped into nothingness whenever she tried to bring them into focus. She gritted her teeth as she compared notes with Caleb, time and time again. There were no discrepancies, as far as she could tell, but that was meaningless. The changes might be so subtle—or centered on something far away—that she might not notice them until it was far too late.
She couldn’t help feeling a little paranoid as they broke for lunch before resuming their search. How would she know if she was in an alternate universe, if the only real difference was something far away? Would she ever know? Or... she found it hard to believe that such universes even existed. If there was no observable difference, was there any difference at all?
Frieda popped her head into the room. “They’ve covered all the mirrors in the dorms, offices and labs,” she said. “Things are calmer already.”
“Things started to calm down as soon as everyone grasped the idea that the... disputes... might not be being caused by malice,” Caleb pointed out, dryly. “And then they started checking everything. It’s like being back in the lab.”
Emily nodded. Professor Thande’s advanced classes had been expected to recite their instructions back to him, with added commentary to prove they’d understood what they’d been told. She’d found it a little irritating, but she saw the logic. Better to have the instructions repeated than let a mistake slip through the cracks, only to explode in someone’s face when they tried to put the mistake into practice. Here, at least, it helped smooth out the problems. They’d already caught a handful of... disputes that would have passed unnoticed—at least for a while—if they hadn’t bothered to ask. If nothing else, it had done wonders for cooperation.
“It’s better than it was,” Frieda agreed. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
“Go back to Hoban,” Emily said. “None of us should be alone, at least until we’ve covered the mirrors.”
“He’s just down the corridor,” Frieda said. She raised a hand. “Be seeing you.”
“Is it just me,” Caleb observed when Frieda had left the room, “or has getting laid done wonders for her?”
Emily elbowed him, hard. “I think she’s lucky to be able to do anything.”
She felt a pang of guilt. Frieda’s childhood had been worse than hers. Constant beatings, abuse, the e
ver-present threat of being thrown out of the shack to die in the cold... Frieda had been very lucky that she’d been sold to Mountaintop, instead of simply being killed or married off by her family. Caleb didn’t know how lucky he was. His parents actually loved him. They certainly hadn’t treated him like an unwanted burden.
“I hope she’s happy,” Caleb said. “And that you find someone too.”
“That’s not likely to happen.” Emily glanced at him, sharply. “Why do you say that?”
Caleb nodded at the nearest mirror. “Do you think, somewhere in there, there’s a world where we didn’t break up?”
“I don’t know.” Emily didn’t want to think about it. There was probably a world—a hundred worlds—where she’d come to the Nameless World, only to be killed or enslaved or raped or... she didn’t want to think about it either. She might not live in the best of all possible worlds, but she didn’t live in the worst. If Shadye had taken Whitehall—and her—who knew what sort of world he would have created? “Why do you ask?”
“I was wondering,” Caleb said.
Emily looked away. She thought she understood. Caleb had good reason to regret how their relationship had ended. She regretted it too. She’d been able to relax with him in a way she’d never been able to do with Cat. But... she knew, at base, that he would put his family and their interests ahead of her. It was how he’d been raised. And it wasn’t something she wanted...
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, a little sharper than she’d intended. She didn’t want to continue the discussion. “Let’s just get on with it.”
He said nothing as they walked into another classroom, but she could sense his disappointment. She wondered, sourly, what he’d actually wanted. Did he even know? A return to the days before they’d split up? Or a simpler relationship... Emily shook her head, annoyed at herself for even considering it. She’d enjoyed being with Cat, on a physical level, but... there had been no room for a long-term relationship. And she’d wanted a long-term relationship.
And that might be hard to find, she told herself. She supposed she could look for another simple relationship, but... she wanted more. Someone who cared for her. Who’s out there for me?
She looked around the classroom. It was smaller than the others, more of an office than a classroom. A handful of metal desks were organized in a circle, facing a mirror. Her lips twitched as she saw the marks someone had carved into the metal, a handful of sigils she remembered from her first years at Whitehall. Hints of a crush, threats of dire punishment for anyone who took the chair when the owner wanted it... schoolchildren never changed, it seemed. And yet...
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the mirror. It was uncovered, her reflection looking back evenly. Her hair was in a braid, hanging down her chest and almost touching her belt... her heart skipped a beat as she realized her hair wasn’t in a braid. She normally left it hanging down naturally, allowing it to brush against her back. Her reflection... she blinked, quickly. Her reflection’s hair was hanging down naturally too. But she’d seen it. She was sure she’d seen it.
“Did you see that?” She pressed forward, reaching out with her senses. The mirror was alive, faint traces of magic crawling over the surface. “My reflection. Did you see it?”
“I saw mine.” Caleb sounded as if he didn’t quite believe whatever he’d seen. “I looked as if I’d been in a fight.”
Emily glanced at him, then resumed her attempt to probe the magic. This time, the eerie sensation wasn’t going away. She muttered a pair of detection spells, trying to bring the spellware front and center. It felt as if something was pulling back, defying her attempts to study the spell. She gritted her teeth and pressed forward. Not this time. She wasn’t going to let it get away this time.
“Be careful,” Caleb said. “I can’t pick out the spells at all.”
Emily barely heard him. The mirror held her, somehow. She couldn’t look away. There was a resonance in the mirror, as if it was reflecting her magic at her. It was impossible. No, she reminded herself, once again. The word impossible was simply a reflection of the unknown. Caleb would be shocked beyond words if he saw Earth, with its computers and aircraft and everything else, just as she’d been shocked when she’d first seen magic. Just because she didn’t know how to do something didn’t mean it was impossible. And the resonance was growing stronger.
It’s responding to my magic, she thought. She twisted her spells, trying to figure out just what she was doing. It felt as if she was picking a lock that wasn’t completely there. She’d hacked plenty of locking spells in the last few years, but... this was different. What is it doing?
She looked up, into the eyes of her reflection. Her reflection’s fingers were almost touching the mirror, her expression showing the same frustration as Emily felt... they were the same person, weren’t they? Emily wasn’t so sure. It was hard to believe the reflection was just a reflection.
On impulse, Emily reached out and touched the mirrored surface. It gave way. She found herself falling forward, pulled into the mirror. She tried to catch herself, to cry out in alarm, but it was impossible to cast a single spell. Something had her, something was pulling her through...
... And then it was far too late.
Chapter Twenty
IT WAS BRIGHT, VERY BRIGHT.
Emily closed her eyes a second before she landed on... something. It felt as though she’d fallen flat on her face in the bathroom. The impact was hard enough to stun her, just for a second or two. She gritted her teeth against the pain, realizing—in her dazed state—that her eyes were still closed. She had to force herself to open her eyes. The light grew brighter, feeling like nails driven into her eyes. It hurt, badly.
She muttered a spell, but nothing happened. The light was just too bright. It played with her mind, making it harder to concentrate... she forced herself to look around, to try to figure out where she was. There were no walls, no ceilings... she looked down and saw nothing underneath, although she was sitting on something. It felt slippery. She looked up, dimly realizing she was surrounded by silvery light. It took her longer than it should have done to realize that she had gone through the mirror. She was inside the mirror.
Shit, she thought, numbly.
Emily staggered to her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain. If the mirror was right in front of her... she might be trapped in a pocket dimension, unable to leave without the key or someone opening the door, or... her imagination supplied too many possibilities, each more dangerous than the last. Had she been shrunk? Or was she trapped in a lobster pot, a place that drained her spells as soon as she cast them? She’d been told such a prison was almost impossible to escape.
She stepped forward gingerly, her hands outstretched. There was something there, something invisible in the silvery light... she touched it and found herself unable to go any further. It wasn’t blocking her path so much as her feet were simply refusing to move. She felt as if she were caught in a nightmare, her legs caught in the mire while the monster bore down on her. She stepped back and found she could move easily, as long as she wasn’t pressing against the invisible wall. The mirror itself? Or what? Was she caught in a box?
They might be looking in at me right now, Emily thought. Caleb had seen her fall into the mirror. She was sure he would have called for help before jumping in. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to follow her without a plan... would he? She swallowed, hard. Caleb was no coward but, for once, it would be smarter to be one. If Emily couldn’t get out, Caleb would be trapped too. What are they going to do?
She stepped backwards, turning slowly. The silvery light was changing, faint gradients of light becoming apparent within the glare. There was a path leading away from the mirror. Emily inched forward, the path becoming clearer as she moved. She glanced back, but saw nothing. If Caleb and the others were trying to free her—if they’d realized what had happened—there was no sign of it. How long had it been? The mirror world was playing hell with her sense of time. It ha
d probably been only a few minutes, but it felt like it had been a great deal longer. It might have been. A skilled magician could alter the flow of time within a pocket dimension, sending someone on a one-way trip into the future. She dreaded to think what someone with a nexus point could do.
The sense of walking along a path grew stronger as she picked up speed. She was being led somewhere, somewhere else. The path narrowed, until it was barely wide enough for her to walk; she had the feeling, even though she couldn’t see anything, that she was standing atop a precipice. If she fell off, God alone knew where she’d land. She briefly considered trying to teleport out, but she had a nasty feeling it would be disastrous. She didn’t have the slightest idea where she was, let alone where she wanted to go.
And I could wind up scattering my atoms across a thousand miles, she thought, grimly. If I even have the power to cast the spell...
She thought she heard, just for a second, someone whispering in the still air. She looked up sharply, then around, but saw nothing. Anything could be hiding in the silvery light, anything at all. A shiver ran down her spine as she glanced behind her, half-expecting to see a monster breathing down her neck. There was nothing... a thought struck her and she shivered, again. What if she’d traded places with her reflection? What if Caleb and the others didn’t know she was missing? What if they thought she was still with them?
It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Emily wished she hadn’t had it as she pressed on. Caleb would notice, wouldn’t he? He knew her very well. Or... what if the only difference between Emily and her reflection was a different hairstyle? Would Caleb notice? Would anyone? Would there be any significant difference at all? She tried not to think about it as the path grew narrow, leaving her feeling as though she was walking on a tightrope. The slightest mistake...
The world flared with light, blindingly bright. Emily threw up her hands to cover her eyes, losing her balance. She fell, landing on her backside before she even had a chance to scream. Something slammed into her head, a punch—no, the impression of a punch—that left her dizzy. She opened her eyes, unsure of when she’d closed them. She was in a small bedroom, staring around in confusion. She wasn’t in the classroom any longer. She was...
Mirror Image (Schooled in Magic Book 18) Page 19