by Chris Miller
“You can’t defeat your own reflection,” the voice whispered with a cackle. “That is the riddle you must solve to break the mirror’s link.”
I had to find a way to keep my reflection from reacting to my attacks, to beat it at my own game.
“How do you defeat your own reflection?” I repeated to myself. The only way to do that, I figured, was to attack blindly. I closed my eyes and approached the mirror. Falling forward, I plunged my sword into the mirror. My blind reflection did not counter the attack. I was through.
A surge of power raced through my arms, jerking me and the blade forward like a powerful magnet. I wanted to pull the sword out, but I couldn’t. Whatever power the mirror had over me was not letting go. I opened my eyes to find the heat of the blade melting the center of the mirror, smoldering with white-hot light. The mirror was cracking under the pressure of the sword, each crack revealing a bright white light behind it.
Finally, the mirror exploded from the sword’s blade, shattering in every direction. Instantly, my blade was released and I was thrown across the room, landing on the floor near the steps. It was done.
My father was gone…forever.
I ran up the stairs into a library engulfed in flames. Black smoke filled the room, replacing the chaos of the fight that once filled it. Covering my mouth with my sleeve, I followed the smoke toward the windows.
“Trista! Desi!” I shouted. “Are you still here?”
“Ungh, ungh,” a weakened voice grunted from behind the curtain of smoke.
“Hang on, I’m coming,” I called out, crawling across the floor. “Keep talking so I can hear where you are.”
“Ungh,” the voice groaned.
Moments later, I spotted the shape of a single figure collapsed on the floor in a huddled, trembling lump. To my surprise, it wasn’t Trista, Desi, Vogler or Belac. It was a man, wearing nothing but a loin cloth, and he appeared to be injured. His back was turned toward me and his arm was stretched over his face in an attempt to keep the smoke away.
“Gone, it’s gone,” the man said. This time I recognized the tone of his voice.
“Dad? Is that you?”
“Hunter…” he replied weakly, turning so I could see the right half of his face. His eye was red and swollen from the smoke. For the briefest of moments his expression seemed to brighten at the sight of me, but almost immediately the look faded. “Stay away from me…save yourself.”
There was no way I was leaving him. Not like this. Guarding my own face from the smoke, I raced to his side and lowered myself beside him. If he was hurt, I wanted to help.
“You came back. How did you…?” I stopped, suddenly spotting the lashes across his back. The skin was cut open and black blood flowed from wounds that looked to have been inflicted by Desi’s whip.
“Leave me…” he managed to say.
“I’m not leaving you, Dad. We’re getting out of here together. The windows are just over here…. We can make it…just take my hand.”
“I can’t, Hunter,” he said sadly. “I…I can’t.” He lifted his left arm, which had been hidden from view and I saw why. It was in horrible shape; the skin was yellow and starting to peel away from his arm, which was also swollen and larger than it should have been. His fingers looked like they had been melted together in places. My first thought was that he had been injured by the fire somehow, but when I saw the shackle latched to his wrist and a boulder attached to the other end, my concern began to grow. In my absence, someone had tethered him to the boulder that Belac had been attached to.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” I said, still not fully understanding what I had just seen. “I can save you. I can cut you free.”
“No, Hunter, you can’t.”
For the first time since I had found him, Dad lowered his right hand from his face and revealed an even more horrifying sight. His face was contorted and misshapen, as if a giant tumor had overtaken the entire left side. His eye was yellow, bloodshot and much larger than the right side, which still looked every bit like my dad. The sight took a moment to sink in. It was almost as if my father had been mutilated on his entire left side. He was starting to look like…Belac. It didn’t make sense, unless…my father…was….
With a frightening groan, the ceiling of the library began to cave in, interrupting my thoughts. A giant section of it cascaded down a mere twelve feet from where we sat. It would only be a matter of time before the rest came down as well.
“There isn’t time, Hunter,” Dad said out of the right side of his mouth. The angry flames danced in his tear-filled eye. “Save yourself. Just leave me here.”
“I’m not leaving!” I said boldly, though the sight of my father sickened me. No matter what was happening to him, I couldn’t leave my father behind in this deadly blaze. There wasn’t time to think, I had to take action. Igniting my Veritas Sword, I severed the shackle that anchored my father to the boulder and helped him to his feet. He was weak, but he could walk.
“This way!” I shouted over the crackling flames, pulling him across the broken glass toward the windows. We jumped through them and onto the swampy ground outside. Moments later the entire ceiling fell, pushing a hot blast of air through the windows and nearly knocking us over. I could only hope Desi and Trista had made it out before us.
We hobbled a safe distance away and watched what was left of Belac’s castle…or my father’s castle…burn to the ground.
“You should not have saved me…” Dad said. “You should have let me…. Arrrgh!” Clutching his chest, he keeled over, collapsing to the ground on his hands and knees. I leaned over to help him but he motioned with his good hand for me to keep away. When the pain subsided he rolled to his back and breathed deep, heavy gasps. When he did, his left side—the deformed half—lay closest to me. From here, he looked every bit like the monster Belac had been. I shuddered.
“Hold on, Dad,” I said. “You need help.”
“It’s too late for that,” the deformed side of his face seemed to say on its own. His voice sounded different…more bestial and Belac-like. The large yellow eye examined me and a wicked smile crossed the left side of his face. “Nothing can save your father now. You should have left him alone.”
The sound of Belac speaking through my father sickened me.
“Dad? What’s happening to you? What’s wrong?”
“Hunter…I’m here,” Dad’s voice spoke softly, but from where I sat his lips didn’t move. It was as if each half of his body were being controlled by its own personality. One half was Belac, the other was Dad. I moved around to the other side of my father’s face, preferring to see it over the grotesque features of Belac.
“We need to find help, Dad. There were two girls with me. Did you see where they went?”
“Gone,” Dad’s side said, weakened by whatever sickness was coursing through him. He shook his head and struggled to fight through it. “Trista’s gone.”
I was both surprised and relieved to know he remembered her name from the other world. Until that moment, I didn’t know if the man I met in the mirror was the same man I saw before me…or if it was some kind of trick. The fact that he knew Trista’s name was evidence that he was indeed my father. Or at least part of him was…. It was the other half that frightened me.
“Gone?” I asked, “What do you mean? Where did she go?”
“After you…brought me back…I saw birds…they covered her…and she was gone,” Dad managed to say. Every word was a struggle to get out. He gasped deeply for air and tried again, “They flew away…she wasn’t…there.”
Despite his broken description, I had heard enough to piece together a picture of the event in my mind. The news was not good. Raking my fingers through my hair, I let out a deep, anxious breath. Vogler had taken Trista and I blamed myself. A cloud of gloom hung over my head, my face reddened and my fists clinched. I was mad, but not at Vogler; I
was angry at myself. How could I have let this happen? You’re an idiot, Hunter. You were so worried about keeping Vogler away from your father’s mirror that you let him take away your only true friend. What were you thinking?
Looking away from my father, I fought to hold back tears. My heart felt like a dead weight in my chest, as if it had stopped beating altogether. I closed my eyes and a picture of Trista jumped into view, Vogler hovering over her, his eyes hidden behind the mirrored glasses. He was smiling.
I wanted to do something about it—to run off and save her, but I had no clue where he had taken her. For that matter, I had no clue if she was even still alive. There was nothing I could do about it now; Trista was in the Author’s hands. I pushed the thought aside and tried to refocus on my father but the wound of his message had left a hole in my heart. There would be time for regrets later. Right now, I had to figure out how to save my father; if I didn’t I might lose him as well. I took another deep breath and tried to regain my composure.
“What about Desi, the other girl, did you see her? Did the birds get her too?”
Dad shook his head, and forced himself to speak again, “She’s not…who you think…Graagh!”
The sound of Belac’s growl cut my father short from saying all he had intended.
“He knows who she is,” Belac interrupted. “He’s working with her…. He’s come to kill us both…to kill YOU! Just look at our castle…our sanctuary! It’s ruined. EVERYTHING is ruined…and it’s all…his…fault!”
Dad’s eye followed Belac’s gaze to the smoldering ruins. It was true; the castle was burning to the ground and there was nothing we could do to stop it.
“No,” Dad answered himself. “He is a good boy…he is…a….”
“He’s a fool! Don’t you see? He’s one of them, come to find the Eye…. He should not have come here! We should kill him before he finishes us both.”
“Kill him?” Dad questioned. “But…but…he’s my son….”
“Yes…but he’s not mine,” Belac answered with a sinister tone.
“No, I…I can’t let you do it…I….”
“You have no choice; I do what I want…. We do what we want!”
“Belac, please….”
Dad’s voice wavered and broke off with a sudden gasp. The pain was back. His hands shot up and he started clawing madly at his own chest as if he were trying to dig something out of it. The skin on his good arm began to crawl and lump around as if something inside him were trying to crawl out of him too.
“Dad?” I asked as he dropped his face into his hands. “Dad, what’s going on? I came here to find you. To help save you.... Let me help you. What can I do?”
When Dad looked up, the expression on his face had changed to a determined stare. He looked right at me but I didn’t like the look he was giving. Then, Dad said something I thought I’d never hear him say.
“You’re right. We have to kill him…. It’s the only way….”
“Dad?” I asked, completely caught offguard by how easily he had been swayed by the lies of Belac. “You aren’t serious are you? I’m your son…. It’s me, Hunter.”
“Yes,” Dad repeated. “He must be destroyed.”
“Let’s crush him like a bug,” Belac said.
My father and Belac frantically searched the ground until they spotted a stone that was sticking out of the mud. The Belac side was much stronger and dug it up in almost no time at all. The stone was the width of my chest and probably twice my weight. Belac eyed me angrily as he lumbered forward with the stone in his arm. I fingered my sword and pulled it out in defense, but I couldn’t decide what to do. Would I be able to kill my father if it came down to it?
Belac paused for a moment at the sight of the Veritas Sword, then grinned when he saw the look on my face. He knew what I knew…I couldn’t kill my father. He continued forward. Dad’s hand and Belac’s held the stone together. I stepped back in fright as my father approached, but I slipped on the soggy ground, falling flat on my back. Before I could recover, my father and his stone were already overhead.
“Please, Dad, don’t do this,” I begged.
With a powerful groan Belac hoisted the stone up overhead; my father’s arm held it with him.
“Let me do it,” Dad said to Belac, closing his eye so as not to watch the result of what was about to occur. Belac smiled and eased his grip on the stone, giving full control to my father.
“Forgive me, Hunter…” Dad replied, as he raised the stone even higher. “But there is no other way.”
He looked up at the stone and released his grip, letting it fall directly on his own head. With a horrific crack the impact of the boulder knocked him out cold. The stone rolled backward and fell to the ground with a thud. My father and Belac wavered for a moment, their eyes rolling back before they fell head-first into the mud beside me.
“Dad! Dad!” I said, scrambling to my knees and turning him over on the ground. “Dad, please be okay!” A deep gash on the back of his head was draining black blood from his body at an alarming rate. I grasped my Veritas Sword hilt and set it against the wound. The miraculous power of the Code of Life did its job, healing the cut and stopping the bleeding.
His eyes stared blankly at the sky overhead. He had done it; he stopped Belac from killing me, but at what cost? My father lay calmly on the ground now, so calm in fact that it made me uneasy. Was he dead? Was all my searching for nothing?
“Please don’t die, Dad, not like this…not now. I need you...I need a family again, a real family.”
There was no reply, just his blank skyward stare.
“Dad, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
A light rain began to fall. Just a few drops at first, splashing over his motionless form, but it began to build. In the distance the sound of rumbling thunder could be heard. In no time at all, it became a downpour. Dad’s Belac-features slowly began to wash away under the rain until he was entirely himself again.
I felt so alone, so defeated. I started to cry. I lay my head against my father’s bare chest and hugged him for the first time since I was a boy. It was then that I noticed he began to breathe. His chest rose and dropped in a silent sleep. My father wasn’t dead…he was still alive.
“Dad, you’re okay! You’re alive!” I said, looking into his face. There was still no response. He may have been breathing but he wasn’t okay. The rain continued to pound down on us. We needed shelter and we needed it now.
A flash of lightning silhouetted the hillside, revealing a stone stairway a few dozen feet away. I knew those stairs; they led to the Lost Refuge at the top of the hill. There wasn’t much left of the place, but with the castle still burning it was our only hope of finding shelter. I removed my backpack and pulled it on backward, so it covered my chest. Then, I pulled my father’s arms over my shoulders and hoisted his limp body onto my back. I would carry him with me…all the way if I had to.
It was a steep climb, a feat made twice as difficult by having to haul the weight of my father through the drenching rain. But inch by grueling inch I climbed upward, wondering what my father’s last words about Desi meant. She’s not who you think she is. The statement confused me.
Another angry flash of lightning lit the top of the hillside, which was still a long way off, and the storm was not easing up. If there was ever a time for the Author to intervene, this was it. I needed help.
Chapter 22
The Other Man
My body was weak, especially my knees, by the time we reached the hilltop. It had taken every ounce of strength in me to half-carry, half-drag my father’s limp body up the steep staircase. Every footstep presented yet another opportunity to slip and lose my balance on the wet rock and mud.
Though the climb was difficult, the weight on my heart strained me the most…the weight of having lost Trista. I couldn’t get over it. I was only just
beginning to realize how much she meant to me. I could only hope she was okay, that somehow Vogler had let her live. If not, I would never be able to forgive myself.
Cresting the hill, I scanned what remained of the Lost Refuge. Despite its title, the destination itself was anything but a refuge; it was little more than a scattering of stones. Every piece of the once massive structure lay strewn across the landscape. No two stones sat atop each other; there was no cover here from the storm. The only exceptions were a crumbling tower and a toppled doorway, which had once been a portal back to Aviad’s bookshop. The doorway was buried beneath a pile of boulders now, a new touch probably erected by Belac after my last visit to ensure nobody else ever escaped through it.
The sight brought back a question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind ever since I had rescued my father. How deep did the connection go between Belac and my father? Would he remember my visit with Stretch? Would he remember what he had done to us? Did he remember how close he had come to crushing me under one of the boulders in these very ruins? The answers would have to wait until he recovered…IF he recovered.
Skreeee!
The night air and driving rain were accompanied by a distant haunting sound that seemed every bit like Vogler’s birds. It was probably only the wind howling against the tower, but my imagination made it so much more. With Vogler on the loose, nothing was safe.
Skreeee, skreeeee!
The noise continued, but I tried to ignore it. With options for shelter severely limited, I stumbled through the field of rubble toward the ruined tower, carrying my father on my back the whole way. Once we arrived, I pushed my way in through what remained of its door and collapsed to the ground from sheer exhaustion.
The tower itself was still standing, but it was far from stable. I looked up the tower’s shaft to the crumbling roof overhead. There were two levels to the tower—the lower ground level and a platform or loft of some kind, about a dozen feet up. A rugged wooden ladder with only three remaining rungs leaned against the edge of the wooden planks that made up the floor of the loft. Above that, a criss-cross of rotting wood beams stubbornly held their position, lending a false sense of stability to the structure. Finally, at the very top, whole sections of the roof had collapsed inward, leaving giant gaps where the rain fell in. As long as we steered clear of the drips, we might actually manage to dry ourselves in the space. The tower walls would provide ample shelter from the howling wind and driving rain. The place was as good as we could hope to find under the circumstances.