by H A Titus
Marc gasped.
"It looks Otherworld to me, Larae." Mabon placed his hand on the door. "I can't think of anything—"
He went stiff.
"What?" Larae demanded.
The goblins scattered, clearing the area directly in front of the door. The obsidian reflected Mabon crouching in front of it, his reflection's hand and his real hand meeting on the glossy surface. In one of the lower corners, I could see the reflection of my sneaker.
Marc kicked my leg so that my shoe was no longer in the reflection.
Mabon's body quivered. His hand fell away, and in the mirror his skin began to melt and boil like acid had been poured over him. The fae screamed and scrambled backward. He dropped onto his back, clawing at his face, writhing, his shrieks echoing in the dead silence of the cave.
The reflection disappeared and he went still.
David grabbed Mabon's arm and dragged him out of the direct line of the door—or whatever it was. He pressed two fingers to the side of Mabon's neck and waited.
Everyone waited, the chamber silent. My ears still rang from Mabon's screams, and a tremor had started in my hands.
David glanced over at Larae. "He's dead."
Chapter 21
"What is that thing?" I whispered to Marc.
He was silent for a moment, watching Larae. She paced back and forth on the other side of the chamber, biting her fingernails. They'd pushed Mabon's body to the side, out of the way. He looked pathetic, huddled there, his skin already going waxy.
"It's a soul-mirror," Eliaster answered. "In Tir Ni-all, when fae began learning how to hide their d'anam fuinneog, they began constructing these for places where it was important to know the intent of the people seeking to enter."
"You guys took your security seriously then," I muttered.
Marc shifted and pressed a hand to his side. "Not all of them were designed to kill. I'm surprised there's even one here."
I gnawed my lip. This relic was beginning to live up to all the hype built around it. "So, how do we get in?"
Larae stopped pacing and stared at me. "Excellent question, Josh."
I swallowed. "What are you implying?"
"Did Josh tell you all of the cipher?" Larae asked, looking at Marc.
"He wasn't lying."
"Really? How do you know? Humans don't have d'anam fuinneog. There's no way to tell when one of them decides to lie."
Marc crossed his arms and glared at her. "We've been friends for years, Larae. I know what I'm talking about."
Larae stepped forward but stopped before crossing the mirror's path.
No one was going to come even close to letting their reflection show in that mirror. I glanced at the tunnel. Mabon's three fae buddies were all that stood between us and freedom. Everyone else was on the other side of the chamber, too scared to cross in front of the mirror's path.
"Keep talking," Eliaster murmured under his breath.
Marc said something to Larae, but I barely registered it. Eliaster and I were thinking the same thing. Could we fight past those three? I swallowed again. The fundamental problem with any plan of attack was that it would have to hinge on me, thanks to Marc's wound and Eliaster's iron cuffs. My palms started to sweat.
"Don't even try," Larae said.
I looked at her. Her hands were curled into claws, something dark and cloudy filling her palms. Marc and Eliaster both froze.
Normally, I wouldn't even think about hitting a girl, but at the moment I could very, very easily make an exception for Larae.
"I just had a thought," she said. "The fae who had this relic, who created a hiding place for it. The first cipher, Josh, what was the key number again?"
"Thirty-nine," I answered.
She nodded. "Thirty-nine. The number of Christ's ancestors. Now, who would base a cipher off that, unless they were Christians? Which means that Marc and Eliaster share the beliefs of the people who set the mirror in place. The same values, possibly even the same intentions."
Which meant they might be able to unlock the mirror, to get us moving on the next stage of the quest.
"So. The only question is who should try first." Larae smiled, her lips thin, her eyes sparkling.
She enjoyed this. I balled my hands.
"I'll do it," Marc said.
My heart sank. Of course he would volunteer. "Marc…" I stopped, glanced from him to Eliaster. What was I gonna say? That Eliaster should try before my best friend? How could I even think of asking anyone to risk their life like that?
Once more, I glanced at three fae blocking the tunnel entrance. Was it better to die trying to escape, to get stabbed by one of their swords or blasted by Larae's magic?
Eliaster gripped Marc's arm. "You still have a chance."
"I'm gonna be dead in four hours, give or take a few minutes," Marc said, pulling free. "You really think that's enough time to even get me back to Chicago? It makes sense for me to try first."
My eyes burned. I blinked hard.
Eliaster stepped back, shoulders hunched.
Marc took a deep breath and stepped close to the mirror. His image appeared in the glossy surface, small at first, then growing larger as it rushed up to meet him. He reached out one hand to the glossy surface, whispering under his breath. The words echoed off the chamber wall. "Christ be with me, Christ within me…"
I held my breath. Marc had never made much of his faith, but I could feel the depth and belief behind his words.
His fingertips met, and he cringed, turning his head away from the mirror. When nothing happened, Marc eased the rest of his hand flat against the mirror. Again, for a second, nothing happened. Then a ripple of light flashed inward, from the edges of the mirror to Marc's hands. He bowed his head, cringing, as the light worked into his fingers.
"Christ beneath me, Christ above me—" Marc broke off with a growl of pain.
Eliaster took a step forward. I grabbed his arm. Almighty help us.
Marc dropped to his knees, mouth open, chest working to suck in air. Then the light vanished, and Marc gasped. He scrambled away from the mirror, chest heaving, sweat beaded along his hairline.
As his fingers left the surface, a click sounded, and the mirror swung outward. David and Llew moved in, crowding Marc away as they swung the mirror outward to reveal a doorway. David shone his flashlight inside, then stepped in, disappearing into the inky black room.
"You all right?" I asked Marc.
He nodded. "I just helped them," he muttered. "The Lucht Leanúna want to open a hidden path, and I just helped them do it. Almighty forgive me."
Eliaster glanced at the wire strung across the tunnel exit, then back up at Marc, his face grim. "We can make sure it never leaves here." He took a step away from us, putting him out of arm's reach.
I'd been right earlier. He had no hope that we were getting out of here. "That's suicide! If you trip that wire, we'll be dead as well as them!"
"I got it!" David appeared in the doorway, holding up a dusty wooden box carved with Celtic knots.
Larae rushed forward and grabbed it from him. With her hands trembling, she opened the box. I, and everyone else in the room, took a step forward. Some kind of white rock, carved with a piece of a trinity knot, lay nestled inside, padded by velvet. A rock? That's what we'd risked our lives to get? I clenched my teeth. I wanted to slam it against the wall, to pound the thing into dust.
Eliaster grabbed my arm and swung me around into the tunnel. I bounced off the wall, staggered, and tripped over my own feet. By some miracle, I'd missed the wire. The motion caught Larae's attention, and she opened her mouth to shout at her minions.
Before she could, Eliaster stomped down on the wire.
A pebble bounced off my shoulder, trailing a stream of dust. The silver network over the fae heads shuddered, but didn't fall.
"Eliaster…" Llew reached for a knife.
Larae grabbed his arm, her fingernails digging into his skin. "Eli, what are you doing?"
"If you t
ouch me, who knows how many tons of rock will come down on your head." Eliaster pointed to the box. "Toss it to Josh. Carefully. Marc, get into the tunnel."
"Let me take your place," Marc hissed. "I'm dead anyway."
Eliaster shoved him away and motioned to Larae. "C'mon. I'm tired of playing."
With a snarl, she tossed the box past him. I caught it, the weight smacking into my hands with a satisfying thump. I cracked the lid open and made sure the stone was still there in its velvet cushion.
"Go," Eliaster told us.
I stared at him. "Dude, c'mon. You can run."
"I'm not—" Marc started.
"Get. Going!" Eliaster snapped.
David lunged forward. His shoulder hit Eliaster in the gut and doubled the fae over like he weighed nothing. Eliaster's foot skidded off the wire.
The ceiling in the cave creaked, but held. For a split second, we stood frozen in shock, staring at it. A jagged rock teetered in the net, then slipped out, falling in slow motion to the ground.
"Run!" Eliaster bellowed, shoving David off of him.
I spun and pelted down the tunnel. Rumbling filled the air behind me, along with Larae's shrieks and the screams of goblins. The tunnel shifted and crumbled, the walls breaking apart in front of us. I tucked the box close to my chest with one arm and wrapped the other around my head.
I passed other shorter tunnels that dead-ended or curved around, and it dawned on me—we'd been in a sort of maze the entire time. The tunnel had looped and doubled back on itself, and now it was collapsing in a very precise way, giving us the straightest shot out of here.
Within minutes of running, I burst into the well. Cracks
spidered the floor and walls. I spun around, waiting for the others. Dust billowed from the tunnel. Marc and Eliaster emerged from it, the powdered rock clinging to their skin and clothes.
Marc collapsed, one arm holding himself up, the other wrapped around his gut. He started retching, his frame shuddering with dry heaves.
A roar echoed out of the tunnel.
I ran to Marc's side and pulled his arm over my shoulder, half-dragging him toward the pile of harnesses against the far wall. Eliaster followed, twisting one cuff as hard as he could, trying to force it over his hand.
Marc slumped against the wall, skin gray, his breath coming in harsh gasps.
"What happened?" I demanded, shoving a harness at him. I grabbed another and started knotting a rappel line into the carabiner.
"Pumping blood and adrenalin. Not good for people who have poison in their systems." Eliaster grunted and wrenched at his cuffs again. "Where are my swords?"
Marc coughed. "Scyrril had them, last I saw."
Through the haze, I spotted more people stumbling out of the broken tunnel. Scyrril's bulk and height made him immediately recognizable. Marc groaned and slumped to the ground, eyes and teeth clenched as he pressed both hands to his side.
I dropped the rappel line. Eliaster moved away from me, hands fumbling along the wall in search of anything he could use as a weapon.
"We're dead." I said the words in a flat tone. Funny.
Would've thought I'd get a bit more worked up, staring death in the face.
Eliaster glanced at me. "Get Scyrril's attention. I don’t care what you do, just make sure his back is toward me."
"Just because I admitted that we're dead doesn't mean I was asking for a suicide mission," I snapped.
"Trust him!" Marc shot back.
Fine. No one had noticed us yet. I dropped the box on the ground next to Marc, stepped away, reached down to the ground, and grabbed a jagged chunk of rock the size of my fist. I clutched it in my right hand.
"Hey, ugly!" I yelled at Scyrril. I was about to hurl another insult, maybe one about his mother, when the monster's head swiveled toward me. He roared and charged. Okay then. Touchy.
I squared my feet into a fighter's stance. The rock I held would be no match against the troll. My heart hammered.
As he drew closer, I spotted a bundle of three swords hanging in a quiver-like harness from Scyrril's shoulder. Eliaster had to get a shot at those weapons.
I dodged out of Scyrril's way at the last minute, side-stepping to my left. He swung to follow me, claws reaching out to dig into my neck.
Eliaster sprang forward and hit the troll low, in the back of the knee. Scyrril stumbled, and Eliaster clambered onto his back, swinging the chain around his wrists over Scyrril's neck. The monster bellowed and reached back, clawing at Eliaster's arms, opening deep gashes through the sleeves of his leather jacket.
I smashed the rock into Scyrril's side. He swatted me away. I hit the ground a good five feet away and skidded, scrambling up to my feet before my head even stopped spinning.
The other survivors were moving toward us now, close enough that I could see who they were. Llew, David, Larae, about five goblins, and one other fae. The rest must have been buried in the cave-in.
"Any time, Josh!" Eliaster yelled.
I ran back toward Scyrril. Eliaster was still on his back. The troll's movements had slowed, but he wasn't going to pass out anytime soon. I lunged for the weapons and caught the strap. Scyrril keeled to the side, thrown off by my unexpected weight. My knees dragged the ground.
He shook, and the weapons slid free, clattering on the ground. I landed with a huff, the bag underneath me. I rolled to the side. Eliaster clung to the chains around Scyrril's neck, one foot dangling and the other dug into Scyrril's shoulder. Scyrril shook again, and Eliaster's foot slipped. He drove his knee into Scyrril's scales, but another shake, and he'd be swinging free, hanging by his arms. I tossed one of Eliaster's swords up to him. He pinned it with his forearm.
I grabbed my sword and swung, feeling a slight drag as I sliced Scyrril's leg. Scyrril howled, buckled to one knee.
Eliaster got his sword around Scyrril's throat and sliced deep. Black blood gushed down the troll's chest. Scyrril crashed to the ground, spasming. Within seconds, he was still. Eliaster pulled free and stood up, grinning.
I grinned back.
A slow clapping echoed in the room. Larae stopped as soon as we both looked at her, though her hands stayed up, palms pressed, fingers pointing toward us.
"Good show, both of you." She smiled. "But just because you've killed a troll doesn't mean you can take nine more opponents."
Marc stepped up beside us, holding Eliaster's other sword. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face, but his feet seemed steady. In his free hand, he held the pathstone. "That's only three each, sweetheart! Not even a challenge."
Larae snarled and motioned the goblins forward. "Kill them!"
The goblins charged, howling.
I stepped forward and caught a goblin's sword on my own blade. The goblins fought with no strategies, their swords forming the same patterns over and over again. My first kill was easy, a cut to the throat. My gut lurched, but then another goblin was swinging at me. I dodged, parried again, and in three strokes had my sword buried up to the hilt in the goblin's chest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw David, Llew, and the other Unseelie ganging up on Eliaster. He fought like a whirlwind, never still, his one blade somehow a match for all three of theirs.
No time. I looked for Marc. Two goblins had him backed close to the wall. He was holding them off, but even I could see that his swings were weakening. I started toward them.
A throwing star sparked off the stone next to my foot. Larae. I spun, looking for her. She was running at me, a knife in her hand, violet eyes wide and wild, teeth bared in a snarl. She swung and I parried, driving all my strength behind the move.
Her knife snapped free of her fingers. Before she could recover, I shoved, knocking her to the ground.
As I stepped back, she raised her hand, making a flicking motion at my legs. A thin whip of smoky black matter lashed out from her fingers and snapped around my right leg. She yanked, and I crashed onto my back. My leg burned with cold. I yelled as the magical whip tightened.
; Eliaster slammed into Larae, knocking her to the ground again. The magic dissolved, and I scrambled up to my feet.
To the side, Marc hit the ground, the relic bouncing out of his limp hand.
"Marc!" I lunged forward. My limbs felt like they moved through molasses, every motion taking much greater effort than it should.
The goblin reached down to grab the relic.
I reared back and threw my sword as hard as I could. The hilt clocked the goblin in the head, gashing open his cheek. He turned, snarling, blood trickling down his face. I dodged the first strike, scooped up my sword, and parried once, twice, jerked back as his sword slipped past my guard and nearly found my side. The goblin overreached and I stabbed into his gut.
I grabbed the stone just as someone kicked me in the ribs. I rolled and hit the wall. David reached down and punched me in the face. I shoved him away and ran my hand over the ground, feeling for my sword. My ears rang and blood ran into my eyes, blinding me. I wiped my face and kept searching for anything I could use as a weapon. David grabbed my ankle just as I closed my fingers around the pathstone.
I brought it up and around, bashing him in the side of the head.
David dropped beside me. The stone crumbled to pieces in my grasp.
Larae screamed.
I sat up.
Larae grabbed Llew's arm. Wind blew from out of nowhere, whipping the fae's hair and clothes. Eliaster backed away from them, shielding his face as dust billowed around the two.
Then the wind died, and Llew and Larae were gone.
David sprawled on the ground, his glazed eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling, blood puddling under his head. The dead bodies of the goblins were scattered across the cavern, and just a few feet away, Marc lay, a gaping hole in his chest. The metallic scent of blood hit my nose. I leaned over and puked.
"He's still alive!" Eliaster said, crouching beside Marc. He gripped Marc's hand tightly. "Hey, can you hear me?"
Marc squinted his eyes open, then turned his head and looked at me. "The relic?"
I looked at my feet. A few small chunks of carved white stone lay beside David's head, the rest powdered and turning red. I picked up a couple of the chunks and showed Marc.
