by Sam Ryder
Something grabbed me, but there was no pain, no feeling of claws puncturing my skin.
And then I was airborne again, landing hard on unforgiving ground that felt…
So good.
Because there was no liquid. No blood. I gasped for air, still tasting copper. I spat to the side, my chest heaving. My arms and legs were tangled up with other arms and legs. I lay on my back, staring up at a silver-lit ceiling. Where I saw myself looking back at me.
TWENTY-FOUR
REFLECTIONS
“You good?” Beat asked, propping her head on her hand. Vrill was positioned upside down in relation to us, having spilled through the false wall backwards. She seemed to be okay too.
“I think so,” I said. “I’m not dead, so that’s something. Can the shreek follow us?”
I glanced at my reflection in the ceiling. It was unnerving, especially because my reflection wasn’t bedraggled and covered in blood like I was. That version of me looked like an underwear model, his muscles rippling as I shifted position.
“No,” Vrill said. “I’ve never seen the dangers in one room appear in the next.”
Well that was something. Not dead—check. No shreek—check. I was liking this room better already. Except for the creepy inaccurate reflection of myself on the ceiling.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” I said, feeling a swell of emotion. These two strong, remarkable women were the closest things to friends I’d had in a long time—maybe ever.
“Thanks for distracting the shreek so we could find the exit,” Beat said. “It was pretty fucking awesome.”
I felt warm at the compliment, especially coming from her, who was pretty fucking awesome herself. “Thanks,” was the best response my tongue-tied voice could offer.
“Save it for later,” Vrill said, bringing us back to the present. “Most of these rooms have a time element. The faster you solve them, the less likely you are to die.”
She spoke with such experience. I wondered exactly how many times she’d faced the dangers of Annakor as she sought to locate magical artifacts for the Three. I wondered how exactly Darcy had died.
I shoved to my feet and looked up to find my reflection doing the same, but in reverse, looking down at me. Obviously, it was a mirror, lit from the back somehow, though I couldn’t figure how the reflection was me but without all the wear and tear from my latest adventure. Even his shoulder was uninjured, the skin smooth and unbroken by so much as a scratch.
I followed the mirror until it vanished into the shadows. The rest of the room remained shrouded in darkness. Now I wished we hadn’t lost our torches in the last room.
“Any ideas?” I asked, peering into the gloom.
That’s when I finally realized something. The only reflection on the mirrored ceiling was mine.
A chill ran through me, and I wished I had more than a loincloth for warmth.
“Do you guys think it’s weird that only my reflection shows up on the ceiling?” I asked.
Beat and Vrill glanced up at the ceiling and then back at me. Beat spoke first. “Unless you’ve grown breasts in the last few minutes, I’m the only one with a reflection in the mirror.”
“What?” Vrill said, her almond eyes narrowing further. “I only see me.”
We stood in silence for a few moments, each puzzling over this new information. What did it mean, if anything?
“Come on,” Vrill finally said. “We should explore the rest of the room before the monsters arrive.”
“How?” I asked. “We lost all our torches.”
“I’ve got a feeling that won’t be a problem.” To demonstrate, she took a few steps forward. The backlit mirror on the ceiling seemed to follow her. At least that was how it appeared, the shadows receding before it. Really, I knew, the lights were just coming on, as if motion-activated.
It was kinda cool, in a freaky I’m-about-to-be-murdered-by-Freddy-Krueger kind of way. Beat and I exchanged a quick glance and then followed our more experienced leader. The light continued to expand above us. However, as we left the previous area behind, the light dimmed and then darkened completely. It was like being lit by a spotlight on stage, the operator tracking your every movement. Surreal.
More lights appeared ahead, these ones from other mirrors that stood upright in our path. My reflection looked back at me, and given I couldn’t see Beat’s or Vrill’s reflections, I assumed they were seeing something different than I was.
I stepped closer to the mirror, my reflection doing the same, until we were face to face, almost touching.
I ran a hand over my bald scalp and my reflection mimicked the movement. Everything was the same except for the lack of blood and wounds. It was me fully healed, as if I’d just been rebirthed from the primordial ooze.
Something felt off.
Holy shit, I thought when I realized it. My reflection wasn’t blinking.
~~~
I had less than a second to react as the form—me but not me—burst from the mirror, which rippled like the disturbed surface of a pond. I managed to bring my hammer up, but my weird doppelgänger had one too, slamming it down on the shaft of my own weapon, sending tendrils of pain through my hands, wrists and forearms.
I wasn’t the only one in a fight for my life. Nearby, Beat was grappling with…well, with nothing. At least nothing I could see. She might’ve been pretending, but the strain on her face looked real enough as she struggled to hang onto her spear while fighting with her own screwed- up version of herself.
Vrill was swinging her blade around like a swashbuckling pirate and it was clear it was meeting resistance, though not anything I could hear or see.
Plus, I had my own problems. The sleeker, brighter version of me swung the hammer once more.
Instead of blocking again like it (I preferred to think of it as an it) might’ve expected, I ducked, feeling a rush of air from the near miss. I jabbed the head of my own hammer into its gut and it doubled over. Its mouth didn’t fly open with a gasp, which was when I realized it wasn’t breathing—didn’t need to breathe. Freaky-deaky.
Despite the powerful blow I’d dealt, it recovered almost instantly, its arm shooting out and grabbing the shaft of my hammer. It was Hulk-strong, nearly ripping the weapon from my grasp when it yanked back sharply. Somehow, however, I managed to hang on, falling forward. My evil twin had its own surprise move. It dropped its hammer and punched me in the face.
Stars exploded before my eyes and the bones in my nose crunched. Warmth flowed from my nostrils down my lips, dripping off my chin. Instinctively, I released my hammer and brought both hands up to my face.
I realized my mistake just as the thing swung my own hammer at my head.
If the blow had connected, I was dead. Luckily, Beat stumbled into me at that exact same moment, locked in a struggle with her own foe only she could see. I saw everything in slow motion, her head replacing the spot my own had been a moment earlier, the hammer arcing down toward her, and then—
It passed right through her and my heart skipped a beat. It was the only positive for our current situation: our doppelgängers couldn’t hurt each other. Beat fell on top of me and rolled away, stabbing her spear at the air as she came up to a kneeling position.
An idea flitted on the edge of my mind, borne of too much time spent on role-playing games. I didn’t have time to consider it, however, as I was forced to roll hard to the side, breathing from my mouth, my nose clogged with blood.
The hammer smashed into the ground, chewing up chunks of rocks.
I fought to my feet and ran. Not because I was scared, but because I needed time to think. Plus, my twin was only able to hurt me, which changed the game completely. I couldn’t protect Vrill and Beat and they couldn’t help me. We were all on our own for this test.
I remembered the way my reflection incarnate had taken my powerful hammer blow to the gut like a champ, recovering almost immediately. I had the crappy feeling I could pound it a thousand times in the head and never so much
as bruise it.
It was unkillable.
Which meant another tactic was necessary, the one my mind had toyed with before being distracted by almost dying.
I scampered around the mirror my twin had emerged from, coming face to face with another backlit mirror. There was no reflection.
Yes, I thought. Has to be.
I could hear my twin’s footsteps in hot pursuit, but I slowed my gait, coming to a full stop but not turning. Waiting. Plotting.
Listening.
The footsteps were close now and I could picture the perfect version of myself hardening its expression, reasserting its grip on the hammer, preparing to crush my skull…
I waited a beat more and then dropped like a sack of potatoes, flattening myself on my stomach.
As soon as I felt its feet catch on my abdomen, I twisted around and reach up to prize the hammer from its powerful grip, taking advantage of the element of surprise. It tumbled over me, crashing headlong into the mirror. The glass didn’t shatter the way it would if a real, living creature slammed into it. Instead it turned amorphous once more, rippling and swallowing the unliving, undead thing.
I knew it couldn’t be that easy.
The thing skidded to a stop, spinning rapidly to glare at me, its eyes burning with hate. It hated me because I was everything it wanted. For it was nothing more than an idea. A shell without a soul. A chest without a heart. A head without a brain. A monster created by the same soulless beings that had usurped the Three’s thrones and created the Black, which was now expanding its control over this planet.
Which should’ve been a scary idea. And yet I wasn’t scared, not in this moment, because I’d faced down worse and survived.
“Fuck you,” I said, swinging my mighty hammer.
The creature charged, reaching the edge of the mirror just as my hammer crashed into its reflective surface. Still, one of its hands managed to breach the edge before the glass exploded outward, razor-sharp shrapnel tinkling across the ground and piercing my skin.
The thing’s hand was severed, and it flopped to the ground, writhing around like a worm chopped in half before going still. It sunk into the ground and was gone.
“The mirrors!” I shouted, instantly remembering my friends. “Get them into the mirrors!”
I was exhausted from the battle, emotionally drained, but hefted my hammer over my shoulder and raced back to where I’d last seen Beat and Vrill.
Beat was still there, but was lying on her back with her spear held in both hands shoulder-length apart. Something was slowly pressing the spear down toward her throat. The veins in her forehead were bulging through her skin from the strain. The muscles in her strong arms were taut as she fought the powerful force.
I couldn’t help her physically. This was her fight. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t help.
I crouched down beside her. Cupped a hand to her cheek. “You can do this,” I said. “Get her in the mirror and send her back to whatever hell she came from.”
Beat glanced at me, her teeth clenched. I could see the fire in her eyes. She wasn’t the type to quit. She nodded once and then roared, shoving the spear backwards with everything she had. Simultaneously she rolled forward to her feet and ground her toes into the ground, lowering her head like a linebacker tackling a dummy.
The invisible force caved before her until the long shaft of her spear clattered into the mirror from whence the evils had originally emerged. I was right there to shove her aside and shatter the mirror with my hammer.
She looked at me with wide eyes. “Is it over?”
I nodded. “For you and me, but where’s Vrill?”
Her eyes darted around the part of the space we could see. “She was right here a minute ago. She was over there.” She pointed to the far wall, where another mirror was positioned from floor to ceiling. It was dark, visible only because of the dim lighting provided by the mirror on the ceiling above us.
“There!” I said, seeing a light emanating from another part of the room. We raced forward, dodging other standing mirrors as we made our way toward the light.
We curled around a mirror and saw Vrill struggling against a force only she could see. She was close to a large mirror, and Beat shouted, “Shove the bitch into the mirror!” which was exactly what Vrill seemed to be trying to do.
She spun once, so graceful it was almost like a dance, and then released. I saw the mirror ripple, though I couldn’t see what had caused it.
Vrill’s momentum carried her around a hundred and eighty degrees, so that she was facing us, a victorious smile creasing her statuesque face. I tried to shout a warning—because she hadn’t broken the mirror—but then her eyes widened and she was dragged backwards, her lips forming a meaningless sound.
And then she vanished into the mirror.
~~~
“No!” I shouted, which was pointless and yet the most natural thing in the world to say in that moment. I ran to the mirror, Beat just behind me. My fingers crumpled against the hard surface as I tried to reach inside it.
I could not.
I could not save her.
I pressed my back to the mirror and slid down to the ground, blood trickling from my broken, clogged nose.
Vrill had saved me more than once, but I wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most. Neither of us were, caught up in our own struggles.
“We failed her,” I said.
“Shut the fuck up,” Beat said, in her usual direct way. “Nothing is over. Not yet. We don’t know where that mirror leads. Where she might emerge. I don’t know Vrill as well as you do, but from what I’ve seen she’s as badass as they come. If anyone can survive whatever she’s facing now, it’s her. So don’t give up.”
Damn, I needed to hear those words so badly. I set my jaw and accepted Beat’s offered hand as she pulled me up.
“Let’s find the exit,” I said. “And then let’s find Vrill.”
TWENTY-FIVE
DARK MAGIC
Now that our evil reflections were back in the mirrors, escaping the room was easy. The remaining mirrors lit our way as we crossed the space unmolested.
At the far side there was an arched doorway blocked by a final mirror. “You can do the honors,” I said to Beat, offering my hammer. She glanced at it but didn’t take it. Instead, she planted one foot and kicked out with the other one, jamming her heel high into the center of the mirror. It shattered in the center with cracks spiderwebbing out.
“Nice work,” I said, offering my own kick, this one going right through. The mirror caved in, tumbling down around my shoulders. I was already bleeding from a dozen places, so what were a few more minor injuries? If we ever escaped this fortress, I was planning on taking a very long bath in the primordial ooze.
We tiptoed through the shards of broken mirror, being careful not to sustain any serious damage to our calloused feet.
Once clear, we took in the next room, which was lit by a series of demontorches on each side. The new space was cavernous, its ceiling so high I couldn’t see it. Large stone pillars soared high above. There were steps, but they didn’t go up. Instead, they descended into the floor, curving away.
I didn’t particularly want to go down there. But Vrill needed us and I refused to abandon her after all she’d done for me.
Without a word, I led the way down the winding, torchlit staircase.
A sound echoed up from the deep, the familiar Thoom-Thoom, Thoom-Thoom of the drumbeat we hadn’t heard since we entered the fortress. The ground shook and vibrated with each beat, tiny rock chips and dust tumbling onto our heads.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Beat said, which was just badly funny enough to draw a smile to my lips, breaking the tension.
“Not into the heavy bass?” I asked.
“Not when the drums are made from stretched human skin and being beaten with femurs.”
Damn. She had a grim imagination. But she was probably right. “If we lose, you think they’ll make us in
to drums?”
“Why not? Just because they want to eat us doesn’t mean they’re not the type to recycle. We should get some Save the Monster Planet t-shirts made up.”
I was about to offer another pointless and highly ridiculous comment, when the staircase ended, spilling into another wide, tall room that smelled faintly of metal.
The orange-red glow of demonfire crackled up from a pit in the center of the room. Shadowy forms moved about it, hard at work.
Monsters. Dragging other monsters. Dead ones. Corpses. Some were small—the Maluk’ori—and others required several monsters pushing and pulling to shift their bulk. For example, one of the stone-handed bludgeons was being pulled across the terrain by a few many-mouthed Vostra, the chompers set into their arms and hands nibbling at the dead flesh as they worked. A massive troll attempted to help, but all the Vostra’s mouths hissed at it and the lumbering beast backed off, scratching its head.
The Vostra managed to manhandle the dead bludgeon to the pit and then shove it in. Ever-burning flames leapt up to receive the corpse, hissing and spitting sparks.
“What the fuck is that?” Beat whispered, and I noticed her gaze had drifted elsewhere, to the far side of the room, where a pocket of shadows seemed to hold back the firelight. Within the darkness of the pocket were six glowing red eyes.
I knew immediately. It was a sense of evil, of creatures that weren’t born of darkness but that had created the darkness, a presence so sinister that to look upon it was to stare into the face of your own mortality.
I could feel the hate wafting off them like a bad odor.
Those six eyes seemed to be staring right at us. Not good.
But where was Vrill? Had she even been brought here? Or was she trapped in some netherworld within the mirrors, another dimension that rarely intersected with our own?
Either way, I had to find out.
“This way,” I said, scampering around the edge of the room, hugging the wall where the shadows were thickest.