She glared at Sofiel. “I can see why Simon left you.”
Sharon’s words were as cold and sharp as a blade left in the snow all night. Sofiel’s calm demeanor slipped and her hands shook like two tiny towers of Babel falling under the weight of God.
Sharon’s hands formed into fists. “He loved you, didn’t he?”
Sofiel remained quiet.
“Just like Gabriel does now,” Sharon said. “But you... you don’t love anyone, do you? It’s easy for you to preach about detachment because you never opened up. Can’t really blame you though. The world is full of heartbreak. The smartest thing you ever did was lock up your heart and throw away the key.” She sighed a deep defeated breath, folding her arms. “I envy you. Just think of all the wonderful suffering you missed out on. I really hope your enlightenment is worth it in the end.”
Sofiel’s crystal lit up with glorious blue light. The mirror activated, reflecting Morrie’s basement. “Goodbye Sharon.”
Sofiel’s last words to Sharon before she handed her the torch and walked off, leaving her alone with the mirror.
Sharon stepped up to the mirror and extended her hand.
This was what she had wanted ever since she first arrived on Tuat. Home. I can finally go back home. Her nightmare would finally come to its conclusion.
Her hand trembled.
Then why? Why am I hesitating now of all times? Don’t be a fool, there’s nothing you can do. Cowardly mice cannot change the world, even a small one like Tuat.
She clenched a fist to quell the shaking.
Is it guilt holding me back? Some sense of obligation? I didn’t cause the evil here—my hands are clean.
Her fingers edged toward the glass.
Just forget them and you’ll be happy. Just forget their faces. Their suffering. His pain. Just like Joy said. Just forget.
Her fingertips hovered an inch before the glass.
“Why can’t I just forget?” she asked with tears in her eyes.
“Choices, choices, choices,” said Sharon’s reflection in the mirror. “My, what a nasty pickle you’ve found yourself in, Sharon.”
Sharon’s eyes widened as she stared into her grinning reflection—her own lips quivering.
“That Sofiel is quite terrible at her job. I thought she was supposed to be a Mirror Guardian, and here she goes and leaves you alone with me.” Sharon’s reflection waved her finger. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I mean her job description is in the bloody title. Ordin’s disciples are as useless as ever.”
“W-w-who...” Sharon lost the breath in her lungs. “What are you?”
Sharon’s reflection tilted her head to one side like a bewildered dog. “Don’t be silly, Sharon, I’m you.”
Sharon’s breaths came out rushed.
“The yin to your yang.” The reflection gave a toothy smile. “Though, admittedly, I’m also in kind of a pickle, Sharon. Here I am, about to persuade you to take the path most beneficial to my ambitions. But the truth is, Sharon, you’re an unknown variable. Unpredictable in every sense of the word. Showing myself to you could turn out to be a terrible mistake. Or just the nudge you need. Sadly, even I don’t have a magic crystal ball. No one can predict where one path begins or ends, which choice leads to triumph or tragedy.”
Sharon tightened her muscles. “But why now—of all times? Why did you wait to show yourself to me here and not at Morrie’s?”
“Surely you can feel it? Where you’re standing right now is the balancing point.”
Sharon backed up a step and gazed at the stone floor before her feet.
“Which way the universe will swing depends on your next move. Overwhelming, I know. It was for poor Ordin too. That’s why I tried to save him.”
Sharon glared at her reflection. “You mean corrupt him.”
Her reflection shrugged. “How is it corruption when you offer what they want?”
Sharon had no retort.
“Long ago, your father stood at his very own balancing point. In a dark little cell on a cold snowy night.”
“And he chose wrong,” said Sharon. “That’s why all this is happening?”
“All this happens one way or the other. Life and death. Beautifully repulsive chaos. The problem lies in the illusion of choice. The inherent limitations of imagination and the infinite abundance of unknown variables can mean only one thing.”
“That is?”
Her reflection smiled. “It’s impossible for humans to foresee the consequences of their own actions. Like I said, no one has a magic crystal ball. Not yet, at least. In that way, no choice can be right or wrong. No choice can be perfect. Nothing can be perfect. Yet humans still strive for perfection. Apes reaching out for the moon to pluck it from the sky. Time and time again. Choice has become the root of all suffering.” The reflection pointed to herself. “The root of your suffering. Even now you want to make the right choice. Still searching for the perfect answer to all your problems. The universe has been so cruel to you, Sharon. Putting such a heavy burden on your shoulders.”
Sharon locked eyes with her reflection. “What do you want from me?”
“I want what you want.” Her reflection grew still and stared back at her with piercing, cold, bottomless snake eyes. “I want you to shrug.”
CHAPTER 28
The Devil’s True Face
GABRIEL HAD TAKEN the long way back in hopes that it would give him time to think. Time to think of a way to convince Sofiel that she was wrong about Sharon. But by the time Gabriel reached the outskirts of the tree-sprite village he could hear the chorus of horrified screams and a single pig-run’s squeal.
“Tell me where she is or the old sprite loses his head,” Dew-paw shouted, wrapping his arm around Thorn’s neck and pressing a dagger to the elder sprite’s throat.
A horde of anxious tree-sprites spilled out their homes and gathered around him, whispering among one another in hushed panicked voices.
Dew-paw set his sights on one young tree-sprite, Moki, the only one not looking his way.
Moki kept glancing nervously back to the cave.
“The eyes never lie.” Dew-paw snorted with glee. “So, she’s in the cave,” he yelled out for all to hear.
The terror spread among the sea of small elvish yellow and green faces like wildfire.
Dew-paw’s smile widened, showing off his tusks.
“Please put down the knife,” said Gabriel. He maneuvered through the crowd with hands raised as he slowly approached Dew-paw. “No one has to die today.”
“I disagree,” said a deep leathery voice ahead in the shadows of the woods. “Much blood will be spilled. Your only choice is whether or not it will be yours.”
Gabriel’s wolf ears drew back and his snout frilled. “Hello, brother.”
Khaba lurched forward into the light, flickering his black forked tongue. “Gabriel,” he said, grinning a lizard’s smile. He glanced over to Dew-paw. “Let him go.”
“But my lord,” Dew-paw protested.
“Your blade is unnecessary, Dew-paw,” said Khaba. “My brother will be more than willing to give me the Earth girl.”
Dew-paw released Thorn.
Moki took Thorn and, with the other tree-sprites, backed away into the protection of the woods—leaving the gods to their business.
“What makes you think that, Khaba?” asked Gabriel, when the three were finally alone.
“How is Sofiel doing these days, Gabriel?” asked Khaba.
“Don’t...”
“You finally tame that horse?” Khaba flickered his black forked tongue at him mockingly. “I always wondered how good of a ride she was.”
Gabriel growled.
Khaba let loose a hissing laugh. “So, is it true? Do unicorns make the best lovers?”
“Have you no honor?” Gabriel barked out the question. “She is our master.”
Khaba’s laughter died. “I have no master. She was just a means to an end.”
“That’s why you and Simon could never un
lock your souls.”
Khaba’s expression hardened at the sound of Simon’s name.
“You both have the same wretched philosophy,” said Gabriel. “The Four Pillars of Existence are just more weapons to be used in your bloody conflicts.”
Khaba bared his jagged teeth. “Don’t ever compare me to that slave-king.”
“I see you still hold a grudge. Your path has been clouded by hatred, Khaba. You will never find true peace until you let go of your anger and forgive Simon.”
“Forgive?” Khaba roared as he lunged at Gabriel, stopping an inch from his face.
Gabriel stood tall, unflinching.
“You dare ask me to forgive Simon?” Khaba’s hand trembled as he grabbed hold of his ax’s handle. “After what he did? I should cut your throat just for speaking those words to me. Forgive? Did you forgive the men who raped and murdered your daughters?”
Gabriel’s gaze widened. “No...” He clenched his teeth in a sudden cringe as if the simple two letter word came out tasting like venom.
“Yet you ask the same impossible gesture from me?”
Gabriel averted his gaze. “…Yes…”
“You’re a hypocrite.”
“I am.”
“Stand aside.”
Gabriel’s gaze returned to Khaba. “Khaba please—I beg you—you must learn from my short sightedness. War brings nothing but more war. Hatred brings nothing but more hatred.”
“Stand aside.”
Gabriel refused, shaking his head and standing his ground.
Khaba backhanded him, knocking him to the ground.
From the shadows, the tree-sprites all gasped in unison, but none moved to intervene.
Khaba stepped over Gabriel and headed for the cave.
Gabriel grabbed hold of Khaba’s tail. “Please, you must listen.”
Khaba yanked his tail free and whipped him with it. He followed up with a brutal kick to the stomach.
Gabriel reeled in pain, curling in on himself.
“No—you listen—coward,” said Khaba. “The shame you bear in your heart dishonors your family’s memory. You avenged their deaths. How can any action be more honorable?”
Gabriel staggered to his knees. “Taking the life of another is never honorable.”
Khaba kicked him into the dirt. “Bah! Meaningless words. Is that the only thing you are capable of anymore? Preaching a path you yourself cannot walk? Truly pathetic, you are not worthy of the title of god.”
“Please...” He clawed at the dirt, grasping up clumps in an involuntary reaction to the pain. “You have to listen to reason. Tuat, our world, is dying. I know you felt the same ominous ill will that shrouds the ice.” He reached for Khaba but came up short. “We must unite as we did before. You, me, Simon. Only united do we stand a chance to end this war.”
Khaba scoffed. “End it? Whatever do you mean, end? War never ends. For the natural state of man is war. The peace you long for is merely a period of time where the defeated lick their wounds and the victors sharpen their swords for the next conflict. The ice is just another facet of the truth. The weak perish and the strong survive.” He unhooked his ax from his belt. “Existence is war and those who refuse to fight do so because they are weak.” He pressed his blade against Gabriel’s throat. “And the weak deserve neither pity nor mercy when the ax finally falls upon their necks.”
Gabriel stared up at Khaba in utter disbelief. “What kind of man are you?”
“I am a warrior. And so are you. You may have forgotten that, but I haven’t.” Khaba pulled his ax from Gabriel’s throat and turned his back on him, heading up the path to the cave with Dew-paw trailing after. Once he reached the mouth of the cave he glanced down at Gabriel. “Disgraceful. A wolf who’s forgotten how to bite. Perhaps if I bring back your precious Sofiel’s head you’d remember you still have teeth.”
Electricity flowed through Gabriel’s body, his white fur shot up and grew ridged as static built up. Strands of electricity leaped off his fur and licked the ground with tongues of blue and white light.
Gabriel rose to his feet. “Don’t you touch her!”
Lightning shot out of the tips of Gabriel’s fingers like a raging storm birthed out of Zeus’ divine hands, he wielded the power of the heavens. He hurled a bolt of lightning at Khaba, striking him down with a blinding flash and a crack of thunder.
Khaba’s limp body tumbled down the cave’s inner steps and rolled till he finally landed face down in a pool of water. He lay there still as fallen snow.
“My lord…” Dew-paw gave out a squeal before chasing after his fallen master.
Gabriel peered down at his smoking, trembling hands. Once again, they were stained with blood. “No... I didn’t mean to...” He climbed the cave steps like a madman.
***
Dew-paw reached his master’s motionless body and turned him over. “Brother, wake up.” He tried shaking Khaba but received no response. “Please, there’s no one else who can lead us. Without you we are nothing.” Tears streamed down Dew-paw’s round pig face as smoke rose from the charred flesh in the middle of Khaba’s chest.
Gabriel rushed down the steps and over to Dew-paw’s side, his whole body shaking, his eyes fixed on Khaba’s body.
Dew-paw heard his steps, turned, and drew his ax. “Vengeance.” He bared his tusks. “I will have vengeance.”
Whoosh. Thud.
Gabriel reeled in pain—his body arching in an involuntary upward thrust—as an arrow dug deep into his right shoulder blade. He clawed for the arrow before finally grabbing hold of it.
The arrow lit up with pulsing red light, driving more searing pain down his spine.
His knees began to buckle but he stood his ground and turned to face his attacker.
A knight with a lion coat-of-arms across her chest plate and a golden mask—Solomon’s mask—descended the steps.
“Solomon.” Gabriel became enraged at the sight of this tyrant from beyond the grave. He thrusted his arm forward but no lightning came out from his fingers and claws.
The arrow pulsed with light again, pushing more pain through his body.
The combination of anger and pain was too much for Gabriel and he lost himself. He fell to all fours—snarling and exposing his fangs—and stalked forward.
The knight put away her bow and unsheathed her sword. “That’s it, monster, that’s the face I remember,” said Michelle. “Now come at me like you did that night you took everything from me. And let us see whose hatred has grown stronger.”
***
Sofiel headed through the mystical cavern, walking along the path to the mouth of the cave.
A voice echoed out, stopping her dead in her tracks. “It’s been too long, Sofiel.”
Sofiel’s gaze rose to a red-cloaked figure in the distance ahead of her, blocking her path.
Rage’s astral projection stood before her, his cloak flapping in the wind and his eyes glowing crimson.
Sofiel braced herself. “Asura... How did you find this place?” Finding the village among the Sacred Forest was one thing, but to pinpoint where exactly she was without scouting out in the flesh beforehand? Just a select few knew where she was going.
“Let’s just say I have a very good pair of eyes,” answered Rage. “Crow eyes.”
Sofiel swallowed the lump in her throat. “So, you were using that creature’s dreaming eye, peering through its waking dreams and spying on Sharon,” she whispered to herself under her breath. “But to possess a dreaming eye? The crow would have to be alive, and subsequently, have a soul. But I felt no... Unless…” Her eyes widened. “A hungry ghost.”
“I wanted to see you one last time, my love,” said Rage. “And I see you replaced your blonde hair with that of silver mane, but your face is as I remember. Perfect.”
Sofiel averted her gaze and ran her fingers through her silver hair. “Nothing is perfect. Let alone me.”
“Though you may try to disguise yourself by taking on the features of your uni
corn form. You can never escape the bond we had, the children we bore.”
As Sofiel’s fingers glided through her hair the strands turned from silver to blonde. Her ears became more human in shape and her pale skin a vibrant flesh tone to complement her now rose-pink lips and blue eyes. “I have not forgotten our daughters… Charlotte and Ashley.”
Rage raised his head, exposing his skull mask beneath his hood. “How could one forget their sins? You abandoned your children for your foolish religion.”
“I made a mistake. I fell in love. With you, with them.”
“Their deaths are just as much your fault as those animals outside these cave walls. Sinners—every blasted one of them.”
“But seeing you as you are now. How far you’ve fallen.” Sofiel’s features reverted back, her hair silver once more. She was neither beast nor human, but somewhere in between. “I know I made the right choice.” She wiped away the falling tears from her eyes. “It’s true—isn’t it—Asura?” she asked, passion filling her voice and spilling over. “You’re behind the spreading ice. This is how you repay our teacher, Ordin?”
“Unlike Ordin, my eyes are not blind to their natures. To humans, knowledge means power and little else. Just look how they squander the teachings he gave them.”
“Your task was to guide them. Not shepherd them to extinction. You’ve repaid Ordin with blood and sullied his legacy by destroying his dream.”
Rage’s cloak inflated as he closed the gap between them. He ballooned up, swelling into a huge ball, inflating to the ceiling. “Dreams are for children, Sofiel. There is no after. No true path save for the ones we forge with our own self-delusions.”
***
Michelle charged Gabriel, thrusting her blade toward him.
Gabriel evaded, swiping with his claws and scraping her shield as she blocked his strikes.
They circled each other, exchanging and dodging blows, locking horns in a deadly duel to the death.
“We each live out our lives according to our beliefs and justifications.”
The Crow Behind the Mirror_Book One of the Mirror Wars Page 29
