by Megan Atwood
Leaving the reins on the seat by Peter.
As Peter picked them up, another yelp from Luna sounded close to the sleigh. So close it scared Peter.
So close it also scared Sebastian.
The horse reared up, making the reins slide off the seat. And then he took off down the path at full speed, a terrified Peter hanging on for dear life.
CHAPTER 5
The Woods Are Lovely, Dark, and Terrifying
Peter heard shouts behind him, but they grew farther and farther away. He watched helplessly as Sebastian tore down the path. The snow had started coming harder now, and Peter had a giddy moment of thinking how beautiful everything was. If he hadn’t been completely out of control, he would have loved hearing the shushing sound of the sleigh’s runners slicing through the snow, the huffs of Sebastian’s breaths.
Suddenly, a rabbit appeared in the middle of the path. Sebastian swerved, now taking the sleigh and Peter through the trees. Branches whipped past Peter’s head and he ducked this way and that. He called out to Sebastian, but his voice was carried away by the wind and it was almost like he’d said nothing at all. Trees shushed by him in blurs.
Except for one tree.
The branch came out of nowhere and caught Peter right on the temple. Sebastian was going so fast that even though the contact was minimal, the speed of the sleigh made the touch a slam, and Peter tumbled off the seat. One second he was watching, terrified, as Sebastian and the sleigh tore through the trees. And the next he felt a blinding pain and saw the ground rushing up to meet him.
He lay in the snow for a minute, listening to the horse and sleigh crashing through the trees, the sound moving farther and farther away. He tried to catch his breath. His head throbbed, and when he put his gloved hand up to touch it, the glove slipped and Peter knew it was blood. Sure enough, when he looked at his glove, it was streaked in red.
He wondered how hard that branch had hit him, to make his head bleed even through a winter hat.
He sat up, but the world spun dangerously, so he lay back down again. Off in the distance he thought he heard a crash, but he couldn’t be sure. He took stock of his situation.
He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know how far Sebastian had taken him.
He was alone in the woods at night. . . .
And then Peter groaned out loud. A tendril of panic wrapped around him.
It was snowing. So the tracks Sebastian had left would be covered.
Peter tried not to cry. He tried to think about what Olive would do in this situation. Or what his dads would do. Or Tabitha. But all he could feel was the throbbing in his head. And now the cold of the snow seeping through his winter gear.
First things first: find somewhere warm.
He sat up again, this time much more slowly. When he was upright, he blinked a few times until the world righted itself. The woods came into focus, the bright snow underneath him and the dark trees in front of him. Luckily, the sky had the pink tinge it often had when it snowed, so the forest wasn’t so dark that he couldn’t see. Still, he was desperately aware of every rustle and crack he heard around him.
He thought for a minute. Would it be faster to try to follow Sebastian or to try to get back to the path?
Peter got slowly to his feet, hanging on to a nearby tree. He felt like he was going to throw up at any moment. The dizziness overtook him for a second, and his vision went black. Then it cleared and he looked around.
Everything looked the same.
The snow around him was pristine—no way to see where Sebastian’s and the sleigh’s tracks led deeper into the forest. And nothing that could give him his bearings toward the path, either.
Now Peter did cry.
He hadn’t ever felt this alone. This alone or in danger. He desperately wished he could hear Olive tell him what to do, or hear Sarah come up with some harebrained scheme, or listen to Lizzie telling him everything would be okay. He wished his dads were there.
He sniffled. Crying was hurting his head, and the cold made his nose hurt. He had to move. Maybe he could find some sort of shelter to hide out in until the morning. Already his fingers felt stiff, and the blood on his hat was freezing.
He started walking. And for the first time ever, he started talking to himself out loud. Somehow it made him feel better.
“Okay, Peter. Just keep going straight. Look for a fallen log or something. Or maybe even Sebastian and the sleigh, because he’d have to stop running sometime, right? Don’t think about how cold your feet are. Or your hands. Or how much your head hurts . . .”
He said these things to himself for what felt like hours, until he was too tired to move anymore. He stopped and looked around. To his left, he saw a fallen tree, and though there wasn’t a whole lot of shelter there, he thought it would be a good place to rest for just a minute.
He just had to rest.
Peter climbed into the crook formed by the trunk of the fallen tree and one of its huge branches. He scooted down until the wind was mostly blocked. He pulled his legs up into his chest and felt his eyes get heavy.
Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard a warning that he shouldn’t fall asleep. But he was too tired. He just needed to close his eyes for a minute. He watched the snow float down—it had let up now and had that magical quality he loved so much. It twirled in spirals, dancing around itself in beautiful patterns. An owl hooted somewhere.
Peter closed his eyes.
CHAPTER 6
It’s Just a Game . . . Right?
Peter’s eyes snapped open. He thought he’d heard someone call his name. He scrambled to his feet and looked around. His head didn’t hurt at all, and he felt no dizziness. The sky still had the tinge of pink, but it seemed to sparkle now. The air was cold, but not frigid anymore.
He scanned the trees, squinting. Far away, he thought he saw . . . smoke. Smoke from a chimney. Could it be?
He walked toward the smoke, making sure to look all around him. It was strange; he didn’t feel scared anymore, not even a little bit. In fact, this felt like a great adventure all of a sudden. He thought, vaguely, about his dads worrying. But then he thought that if that smoke really did belong to a house, he’d be able to call them soon. Just his luck that it was Olive’s day for their cell phone.
He had barely walked for any length of time when the trees thinned and he stepped into a clearing. Sure enough, a small cottage with warm, glowing lights sat in the middle of it, smoke wafting from the small chimney. Peter could smell something delicious—some sort of stew, maybe—and his mouth watered. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. Thirsty, too.
He walked up to the cottage and knocked. He briefly thought that was unlike him—normally he’d try to suss out the situation before he made any moves. But he didn’t feel any danger about anything at the moment. The cottage, the clearing, the smells . . . all of it was just right somehow.
No one answered on the first knock. There had to be someone there.
He knocked again. Nothing.
Peter walked around the cottage and tried to look in the windows, but they were all steamy and hard to see through. He couldn’t see anyone.
He went back to the front door and thought for a moment. This wasn’t his house. He was a visitor. It was rude to just walk in. But . . . it was cold outside. And he was so hungry and thirsty.
Plus, everything seemed so magical right now—it had to be safe.
He pressed down on the door handle and the door swung inward. He stood there for a second, taking in the space.
The cottage had a small sitting room to the left where a cozy sofa sat, piled with blankets, in front of a crackling fire. The light danced on the walls and on the ceiling. There were books piled around the worn couch, and knitting in a basket sat beside one of the ornate legs.
To his right was a small table in a small kitchen. An old-fashioned stove—the kind he and Olive had seen on a “living history” field trip—glowed, and on it stood a black iron pot that had steam
coming out of it. Definitely stew. Cups and bowls and plates sat on the open shelves, and everywhere there were plants. Dried, living, sitting all around . . . the whole place seemed like a bit of a greenhouse.
“Well, don’t let all the heat out! It’s about time you got here. We have to get going,” said a voice to the left. A voice that Peter recognized.
He turned to the couch again and there, having appeared out of nowhere, sat Kai.
Peter stammered, “Uh . . . wh-what?”
Kai stood up impatiently and grabbed Peter’s arm. “Come in! You’re making me cold. And we need to get going.”
He ushered Peter in and shut the door behind him. “Plus, I’m guessing you’ll want to eat first.”
Peter blinked and tried to collect his thoughts. The boy in front of him was definitely Kai—same smile, same voice, same everything. He wore all white and had a white scarf wrapped around his neck. But he seemed to sparkle, too, just like the sky. Not sparkle, exactly. Just . . . glow.
Peter flashed back to a Community Spirit at the town hall where they talked about the different afterlives different religions believed in. He thought he remembered hearing something about all white . . . an angelic presence . . .
Peter swallowed. Was he dead? And was this his afterlife?
Kai had started dishing up stew into two bowls. He set them down on the table and began eating his with gusto.
“Am . . . I, uh . . . Am I dead?” Peter asked, his voice shaking a little.
Kai put his spoon down and laughed. “No, you big dork! Not yet, anyway. We have to go on the quest. It took you long enough to get here. I’ve waited forever.”
Peter sank down into a chair at the table, relieved. The smell of the stew wafted up to him and his stomach growled. He took off his coat, hat, and gloves, picked up the spoon, and took a big bite of the stew. It was the most delicious meal he had ever tasted. And he was used to eating food Albert Garrison cooked, which was saying something. Soon he felt warm all over and very full.
And full of questions.
Kai had sat back in his chair and was looking at Peter with amusement. Peter wondered if this was the only expression he could make. But it didn’t matter—it looked good on him.
Peter started, “Okay, what quest? Where am I? Can I use your phone? Do you live out here? Why have you been waiting for me? Does someone else live—”
Kai put up his hand, laughing. “You’re so funny, Peter. But we don’t have time for this. Come on, let’s get to the mirror.” With that, he stood up and beckoned Peter to follow him.
“I really need to use your phone,” Peter said, following.
Kai snorted. “Does it look like there’s a phone in here?”
Peter looked around. It did not, in fact, look like there was a phone in there.
“Do you have your cell phone? It’s Olive’s day—”
Kai stopped abruptly. Peter realized they’d walked down a hall that seemed much longer than the cottage seemed big. That was strange.
But what about this wasn’t?
They were in some sort of room—another room, like a library. More books sat on the floor and on bookshelves, and candles lit up the gloom. There were no windows in the room. Just a tall piece of furniture with a cloth draped over it that they stopped in front of.
“Here it is. We gotta go. The dragon is ruthless.” Kai pulled the cloth from the piece of furniture, and Peter gasped.
A mirror. A mirror that looked like a real-life version of the Elf Mirror from his video game.
“Are we . . . inside the video game?” Peter asked, completely confused.
Kai laughed hard. “No, silly. This is real. Where do you think they got the idea for the video game?”
He looked intensely at Peter. “I was right about you, right? You’re the right person to go on this quest with me?”
Peter hesitated, then nodded. He didn’t know what being the “right person” meant, to be honest. He just knew he wanted to see where this mirror took them. And to get closer to Kai.
Kai slapped his shoulder and grinned. “I knew it! I knew there was something special about you. I saw it the first time I laid eyes on you.”
He turned to the mirror and said, “All right then, no time to waste.”
Then he took a giant step and went through the mirror, leaving Peter standing there staring at his own confused expression.
CHAPTER 7
The Quest
Peter blinked a few times at the mirror. Like water, it had made a wave when Kai went through, and then it stopped, turning back into a regular old mirror.
Peter blinked again.
He thought about all the times he’d read about kids who had encountered another world, or a gateway to another world. How he’d push them along in his head: “Come on! Just go through already!”
But now he understood.
This was not the normal state of things. He had no idea what would happen if he put his leg in. What if he got stuck? What if he went to a different world that was awful?
He shook off his hesitation. Kai had gone through the mirror. So could he.
He put his finger out and touched the mirror. It was cold, so cold he wished he had his gloves on still. The mirror rippled. He just needed to step through, exactly like Kai had.
Peter took a deep breath. And then stepped through the mirror.
The sensation was like jumping into a freezing pool on a hot day. But it didn’t last long, because soon Peter felt the sun on his back and could smell honeysuckle on the breeze. And something else that he didn’t recognize but liked very much. He had landed belly-down, and he felt the earth with his hands. Spring. It was spring here.
“Hey!” Peter heard as he got up and wiped his hands on his pants.
His pants seemed weird. When he looked down, he saw that they were made of leather and hides, like he’d hunted some poor animal. He didn’t like that.
“What took you so long?” Kai came up beside him. Peter caught a glimpse of a tall girl with long dark hair and pointed ears walking away.
Pointed ears!
An elf. Kai had been talking to an elf.
“Um . . . ,” Peter said. Kai looked at him expectantly. “What is this place? It really looks like the land in Elf Mirror.”
Kai’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about? This is Tiar. And they need help. You’re going to help me get rid of the dragon. He’s fierce and ruthless and we need strong people to defeat him. I’ve been waiting for you to show up so we could get going.” Kai’s frown deepened. “I thought you said you were the right person to come with me on this quest.”
Before Peter could say anything, a terrible roar sounded, like the loudest airplane he’d ever heard. It made the ground shake. He saw in the distant mountains a column of smoke and fire shooting straight up into the sky.
Kai scowled. He seemed nothing like the smart-aleck kid Peter had seen in class. “He’s getting restless,” Kai said. “We either need to give him a tribute of fifty people, or he will ransack towns and villages and eat everyone. Unless we can defeat him.”
Peter shook his head. “Wait. I don’t understand. I have a lot of questions.”
The girl with dark hair came back, this time riding a horse and pulling along two others. She looked almost identical to Sarah. Only a Sarah with pointed ears. Peter stared.
“Well, here are the horses. We’d better get going now to see the witch. We want to make it there before sundown.”
Peter took a step back. “Sarah?”
The girl blinked. “What’s a ‘sarah’?” She looked at Kai.
Kai grinned, finally looking like the boy Peter knew from class. “Peter, this is Lithliel. She’s a warrior here in Tiar. She and other warriors have tried to defeat the dragon, but failed.”
Sarah-not-Sarah said, “Thanks for the reminder.” She dropped the horses’ reins and then said, “Okay, get on your horses. We’ve chatted enough. Let’s go.” Kai moved to get on his horse. But Peter co
uldn’t take it anymore. He had to speak up.
“WAIT!” he yelled.
Lithliel and Kai stopped moving and stared at him in surprise.
Peter went on, “I need to know what’s going on! I need answers. Where are we? Why are we here? Why were you waiting for me? Why is a dragon trying to hurt everyone? Why do you think we can do anything about it if Lithliel and other warriors can’t? Why do we have to ride horses?” The last question made Peter cringe a little. He hadn’t meant to let them know how scared he was of riding the horse.
Kai and Lithliel stared at him.
“I mean, if you don’t mind . . .” Peter’s voice trailed off.
“This is who you brought?” Lithliel said to Kai.
But Kai only said, “Come on, let’s go. We’ll go to the witch and she’ll explain everything.”
Peter felt himself burning with shame. He wasn’t quite sure why Kai had brought him either. And when he thought about getting on the horse, his self-doubt grew dragon-sized.
But Kai and Lithliel were waiting. And they had a witch to go to, evidently. He hoped she was a nice witch. He hoped this was a nice horse.
He had a lot of hopes.
Peter walked up to the horse, trying to take big deep breaths like his dads had taught him. The horse was beautiful and black, with a mane and tail that were almost rainbow-hued. Peter looked the horse in the eye and petted him gently. The horse moved and Peter tensed, but he stood his ground. Then he realized that the horse was moving toward him, not away. He must not hate it that Peter was petting him. Peter relaxed just a little and whispered, “Will you be nice to me?”
The horse snorted like he was saying yes. Peter smiled at the thought and felt his body relax even more. “What’s your name?” he whispered.
He didn’t know how he knew, but he just did: the horse’s name was Samson. Peter felt giddy and almost light-headed again. He petted Samson some more.
“Albert says I should ask horses if they want to work. So . . . do you want to go on a quest with me? I don’t know what it’s about yet. But I guess I will soon. Can I ride you?” Samson snorted, and Peter knew that was a definite yes. He smiled, and for the first time since entering this world, he felt a little confident.
