Jaekob grunted and then walked toward the center, side-stepping a bit to his left, giving her a clear line of sight and a chance to flank whatever was inside.
When he stepped out of her way, though, she saw that she needn't have worried. The warehouse was utterly empty, save for one object standing in the very center of the room. A tall, oval mirror, perhaps eight feet high, edged in what appeared to be a silver frame. Bells looked at it through her enhanced senses. Dozens of thick tentacles seemed to be emerging from the mirror and wrapping themselves around the frame, tips waving in the air. They pulsed with a black light. That was the closest she could come to describing it. They emanated the same darkness as the fog. And the mirror had no reflection.
Bells shuddered and brought her sword up protectively in front of her with both hands.
Jaekob stared at the mirror, frozen. Quietly, he said, "I'm seeing it through your eyes, through the rider bond. It just came to me like an image. I don't think I've seen anything quite so hideous and frightening in my life."
She only nodded. What else could she add to that? He was right. Whatever it was, it was going to give her nightmares for quite some time, she was certain of it.
In her hand, the sword suddenly pulsed and glowed a dull orange that rose brighter and fiercer until it was bright red, casting a crimson hue across everything. Everything but the mirror's face, which remained blacker than a starless night.
Jaekob turned, startled, as the Sword of Fire suddenly flared to life. He said, "The sword doesn't like it much, either. It looks angry. You have the artifact, so what are you waiting for?"
Bells didn't reply. She and the sword were talking, communing through the gauzy telepathic tendrils that connected them. She knew what to do, and she held the sword aloft as she walked toward the mirror.
Tentacles of shadow-stuff slithered toward her. The largest tentacles rose into the air and then plunged down at her to crush her, but when the sword's glare illuminated them, it drove back the impossible black light within them. The tentacles glowed with a new light, the sword's light, and then burned up from the inside out, leaving only cinders drifting down to the ground, dissolving into ash before landing on the warehouse floor.
She kept her eyes on the mirror as she put one foot in front of the other, braving the writhing, pulsing tentacles. She had faith in the sword, though. It had picked her, and she would not let it down. They were not merely tool and wielder, but something more.
Jaekob, walking behind her, had his spear out. He was saying something, but Bells didn't let him distract her. She had to focus to keep repelling the tentacles with the sword's burning light. She had every faith the sword could slice them as easily as it burned them, but it wouldn't have been as easy or as safe.
When she was within striking distance of the mirror itself, she swung the sword down an inch from its face; the blade was long enough to cross the mirror's width, frame included, and severed the invisible tendons crawling and flopping their way through the pitch-black mirror's surface.
The Sword of Fire's light faded as quickly as it had come. Bells found it hard to catch her breath and quickly became dizzy. She tried to ignore it, but when she took a step, her knees buckled. Jaekob was at her side in an instant, one arm around her waist to hold her up. He wrapped her free arm around his shoulders, leaving her sword arm clear to swing.
She saw all of that and noted in a detached sort of way that, like many others that day, even Jaekob was treating her as a warrior. She was so exhausted that she couldn't feel excited about it.
He said, "I know something happened here, but I couldn't see what you fought. You seem to have done an admirable job, however. At least, you're still standing and I feel as though a shadow has passed from my mind."
Bells looked into Jaekob's eyes. Even in the fading light of day, they seemed to sparkle with intelligence now that the black fog had passed. And they always seemed to sparkle a little bit more when she caught him looking at her. Her pulse quickened, staring into those handsome eyes, and she had to gulp hard. Looking away, she untangled herself from him. "Thanks for catching me. Just a momentary vertigo but I'm fine now. Don't jump to conclusions about the fight, though. Yes, the sword and I cut... There were tentacles coming through the mirror, writhing and black as oil, and they came for me. The sword and I burned them down," she said, the energy and vehemence in her voice surprising even herself.
Gripping his spear in both hands still, he approached the mirror, shooting her a glance before he got close. When she nodded, he closed the distance and stood before it. "I see no reflection. It's not a particularly useful mirror, is it?"
"No, not as a mirror. But that wasn't its purpose, was it? The fae elders, many of them hedge mages from centuries ago as time passes on Earth, still talk about mirrors. They always sound like they have too much respect for such a silly object, but having seen this, I may have to reconsider my opinion of their boring, musty old tales."
Jaekob glanced her way but kept the spear between himself and the mirror. He said, "My people are warriors. I don't believe I even saw a mirror before the Rising from the Warrens. Humans left mirrors everywhere when they fled the other Pures."
Bells circled around the mirror, examining it, but kept a couple feet away from it as she checked every inch of it. Without the tentacles obscuring her view, she saw that the silver frame had many runes etched in it. They weren't fae runes, nor dragon, nor even any elf rune she had seen. These more closely resembled the glyphs her sword had taught her in order to harness its powers in and out of battle. If they were the same kind, it meant the mirror could be both ancient and powerful. The runes on the Sword of Fire contained a sliver of the power of Creation in them. The original language, spoken before the dawn of written history, was said to be thought-pattern words of Creation herself given form.
Bells wasn't convinced, and thought it could be a Pures creation tale, but the power radiating from them was still awe inspiring. Whatever the mirror was, it was far from dead.
She said, "The thing about mirrors, according to the elder fae, is that they can have many purposes."
"Modern humans used them to primp and preen," Jaekob chuckled.
"But mirrors hold power," Bells replied. "They can act as portals to different locations, even to different dimensions. Because they reflect, those with talent can also use them as scrying pieces."
Jaekob reached out to touch the mirror, but drew his hand back at the last moment. "It is eerie to think someone might be watching us through this thing even as we speak. But I think this one is broken. It's not reflecting anything."
It was Bells' turn to chuckle. "This thing could be nothing more than a place for people to spy. Or it could be how the enemy keeps getting in. Not all reflections are the visible kind."
"Do you think it's how the disease first came through?"
Bells paused and considered. "It's certainly possible, though I didn't feel the evil coming through it until one sudden moment that set us on the path here. Still, I don't think they did that through this mirror. The oppression it sent is more recent. I think they were pouring dark energy into the city. The more sensitive mages and spiritualists might have been consciously aware of feeling its effects, but unless they approached it, they couldn't have noticed it the way we did. I think that was the sword's doing."
"So you think so much power was too weak for people to notice it? I think anyone heading west would have noticed it right away."
Bells smiled. He always seemed so self-assured, but she had seen past some of the masks he used to hide the real, authentic person from the outside world. Everyone used masks, but his ran deep and strong. Her smile faded as she quickly realized how afraid he must be. Jokes were his way of dealing with fear or insecurity, and he was terrible at them. Sarcasm was his last line of defense.
Bells almost missed a step. She almost blurted out that everything would be okay, and he had no reason to be afraid, but bit her lip at the last moment. He was getting better,
but he was still a dragon, and a proud one. Just because he had tells that revealed how afraid he was didn't give her a right to pull his covers, as her father would have said.
Gently, she said, "Yes, but to everyone else, it would simply be a poison that grew inside them with each passing day. Maybe someone was trying to re-create the chaos and intense hate and fear that went on in the city when the infection was spreading. I don't know."
"Maybe they need so many people afraid or angry all in one place."
"What do you think?" Bells shrugged, uncertain.
"I think," he replied as he looked at the mirror again, "you should destroy this thing, and quickly. Use the sword. It can overcome some evil hedge mage's spy-telescope mirror, right?"
"You're right, of course. Let's finish it." She stepped in front of the mirror and held her sword with the point up. She glanced at Jaekob and gave him what she hoped was a casual wink. It probably looked like she was having a seizure, she thought bitterly. Whatever.
She drew her arm back and plunged the sword into the mirror, covering her face with one arm to protect herself from shattering glass.
Only, there was none. Her sword bounced off the glass without leaving a mark on its perfectly black surface.
"Damn you," she said with gritted teeth.
Jaekob put his hand on her shoulder and lightly pulled her away from the mirror. "Come on. That thing gives me the creeps. We have to get it out of here and back where our highest mages can work on it."
Bells stood, shocked, her eyes going back and forth between her sword and the mirror. What in Creation was going on? It was impossible. How had the Sword of Fire itself only bounced off the thing? There was no evil her sword could not overcome, as it was literally the most ancient, most powerful artifact on both sides of the Veil.
And yet, it had failed. A flash of rage flew through her and she shrugged off Jaekob's hand. She brought her sword down with all her might, holding it in both hands. The blade smashed into the mirror, but again, it bounced off. She roared and struck it again, shouting a glyph of strength normally used on the farm, but it served her well now—except the mirror remained in one piece. She hit it again. And again.
It occurred to her that she wasn't just angry the mirror didn't break, but was letting out much of her pent-up frustrations since leaving her family farm. There were so many of them it was hard to pick just one frustration to let out.
The sword didn't approve of repeating a pointless action. It didn't get less pointless just because she was angry, it told her in its strange, mind-picture language. Behind her, Jaekob said essentially the same thing.
They may have both been right, but she still seethed. To go through the ordeal she and Jaekob faced today only to fail to destroy the thing they'd come for... She closed her eyes and took three long, deep breaths, letting them out slowly. With each breath, she felt some of her agitation fade away. This was no time for childish outbursts. Besides, even though she hadn't been able to destroy the mirror yet, that didn't mean she would never be able to, and they had rendered it powerless as far as her eyes and the sword could tell.
"I hope you feel better, now," Jaekob said. "I certainly feel better after watching you beat on that thing. I had no idea you had that kind of fire in your belly."
"You've never seen me angry?"
"Well, your anger might be misdirected, here, but it's the first time you've shown me that side of you. I must say, it suits you well."
Bells froze in place, then slowly turned to look at him. He merely watched her, his features relaxed and his eyes reflecting calm. His eyes showed none of the anger she had seen in them before, none of the wild energy he barely suppressed most of the time. Satisfied that he wasn't making fun of her, she still glared at him. "It was stupid, and pointless. I didn't know those were two qualities you found attractive in a woman," she snapped. "Now stop staring at me and help me grab this mirror. I don't know how far we are from dragon territory exactly, but I know that intersection we saw can't be more than a couple miles, right?"
He shrugged. "Who knows? We've seen so many bizarre things recently. I think you're right, though. About the intersection, I mean. I think you're wrong about heading back tonight."
She cocked her head, confused. "What do you mean? We have to get the mirror back to dragon battle mages to study it."
He began picking at his fingernails with this thumbnail, his attention absorbed by them. Click, click, click, the sound echoed off the bare cement floor and walls. "I suppose, but I don't think getting it back tonight will make one bit of difference. Mages do like their sleep, and it takes a war to get them to work past dusk. Sometimes, not even then."
"Yeah, but I would like to sleep in my own bed tonight. Wouldn't you?"
He grinned and said, "That might cause quite a scandal, but yeah, I'd—"
"Oh, be quiet. You know what I meant." She found herself smiling despite her best effort to stay angry.
"Oh, I guess I did," he said with a chuckle. "But seriously, we aren't in any rush. The mages won't look at it until tomorrow, no matter when we get it back. We could always camp out until dawn since that mirror pushed everyone away from this entire neighborhood. I bet the entire mile and a half stretch between here and the manor is almost empty. Even the usual werewolf packs won't be prowling. The humans will be gone, too, so there won't be any reason for the weres to come back, at least not tonight."
She found herself nodding, and the idea of getting real rest—without the pressures of staying in the manor—sounded amazing. "Yes, that makes sense. Normally, I don't like to travel at night for fear of the weres, but they won't be much of a problem, like you said. And if the mages aren't going to look at it tonight, then there's no reason to try to kill ourselves getting it back as fast as we can. It gives us time to try some other things out."
Jaekob smirked and, looking at her from beneath wagging eyebrows, said, "Just what other things did you have in mind?"
Bells laughed and slapped his arm. "Not that, stupid." If only. The bigger part of her wished he were serious and refused to be pushed aside. She was suddenly more eager to stay the night out there, even knowing it was a silly thought.
Not that she hadn't thought of it a million times since the day she'd met him, silly or not, and while that thought made her heart leap, Jaekob never revealed his true thoughts to her.
As far as she could tell, he was never seen in the company of attractive young women, nor had she heard any rumors among the household staff that he preferred the company of attractive young men. That was the sort of thing household staff always knew, and she had done her best to weasel her way into the confidence of several of the staff specifically to find that out. But no—no men, no women, and no serious indication of how he felt about her. It was still fun to dream impossible things, though.
"Hello, Bells. Earth to Bells, is anyone home?" Jaekob watched her with one eyebrow raised. "So, what's the plan?"
She had the sudden, horrible thought that he might have overheard at least a few random strings of her mental monologue thanks to the rider bond they shared. Her eyes darted involuntarily to his, but if he had overheard her thoughts leaking out, he gave no sign.
Then, the thought shot through her mind that he might well have heard her and now was pretending that he hadn't to avoid having to talk about it, much less acknowledge it. She wasn't sure which would be worse. Actually, she did know, and decided that his hearing it and pretending not to, a sure sign he had no interest, would be worse than not knowing what he thought.
Bah. She blinked the thoughts from her head. Those kinds of inner conversations could make her head spin and she needed to be thinking straight out here in the abandoned city zones.
She crossed her arms, tapping her foot, and said, "Well, I've been giving you the chance to come up with the idea on your own, but since you haven't, I'll just come out and say it. Why don't we just fly back to the manor? By the time we get the mirror hooked up to where it will be safe on the flig
ht, it will be dark. No one will see us land. Or hadn't you noticed that the Guardian wings flying around are focused to the north and south, where the enemies always seem to attack from?"
His jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? The bond we have now is just a feather's touch, but that bond gets deeper every time a person rides their bonded dragon."
Actually, she hadn't known that. Assuming it was even true. He'd once said twice was the magic number, and they'd already done that. "And why isn't that in any of the lore I've ever heard? Surely something like this bonding thing wouldn't be forgotten, even through all these centuries. At the very least, they would pass it down as a story or fable." Some part of her thought she sounded entirely too hopeful that his story was made up.
Jaekob began pacing in front of her. Another nervous habit of his. With each step, he thrust the butt of his spear into the cement, creating a loud clock to go with the boot steps. "Well, obviously, it's because we never allowed other Pures to ride us in our dragon form. On the rare occasion when we had to during times of war, it was easy enough to just never allow anyone to ride the same dragon twice. By Creation, there are still people alive from the last time dragons took on riders, over a thousand years ago. If they knew the effect, then we dragons could be in danger. This bonding, it's a strong instinct that goes way, way back before the earliest legends. Certainly it goes back before dragons had gained a human form. For us, it's a deep instinct, as strong as the urge to feed or breed, or the need for friends and companions."
She stared at him in shock. There was no way he was supposed to have told her that. She swallowed hard. She'd never betray that trust, not ever. She forced a smile and nodded, saying, "Of course. I didn't know, but it's no big deal. I won't tell anyone. Why don't we find a cart or a wagon before we leave? Humans lived here, back before the Pures came to save the planet from them."
She felt a wave of anger and disgust at the thought of what had happened to the poor humans who were, according to Jaekob, Pures themselves—just with no remaining bond to Creation, losing whatever powers they may once have had. She also felt plenty irritated that he didn't want to let her ride him again. She'd done it twice before and nothing had happened, right? So what was the point of walking?
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