Through a Mirror, Darkly

by R F Hurteau

  He and the others tromped back to the drill without speaking, Terrance taking up the rear. He climbed down the little ladder, closing the hatch behind him with a hollow clunk.

  Looking around, he saw the expressions of uncertainty on the others’ faces.

  “Buck up,” he told them. “Just gotta sit around and wait. And although I could think of a goodly handful of things that I would much rather be doing, I can also think of a plethora of reasonable explanations for the Nouritas drinking contest that is about to commence.”

  Dante grimaced. “Sit around and wait and not freeze to death, you mean. You forgot the freeze to death part.”

  “If that should be our fate, then I’d say it bears repeating—break out the Nouritas.”

  Leon was nodding, but not at Terrance’s comments. In fact, he spoke as if Terrance were not even there.

  “I don’t know what Bohai was thinking. We can’t survive long in this thing. I can’t run the engine indefinitely, not if we want to have enough fuel to make the return trip.”

  Terrance plunked down in his chair, and the cold metal surface seemed to sap the warmth from his legs.

  “I concur. Things are going to get a little chilly down here.”

  The others began taking inventory of what they had, Leon prattling on about calculating just how often they could keep the prototype running under different scenarios.

  “If we run it in intervals,” he was saying, “we should be able to hold out for a good long while...it won’t be pleasant, but maybe we won’t die.”

  Just then, there was a rapping on the hatch. All of them looked up, startled.

  Terrance grumbled, standing.

  “Back already? If he thinks he can—”

  He stepped up on the first rung of the ladder, continuing to grumble to himself as he pulled aside the lock and pushed the hatch open.

  It rose away as someone tugged it from his grasp, and he looked up into the fading light to see a face he did not recognize.

  “You’re not Bohai,” he stated.

  The face sneered back at him, then looked around at the others.

  “And you’re not welcome here,” the newcomer retorted. “Come on, now. Everybody out.”

  Terrance looked around at his companions. They had no weapons and no combat skills. They weren’t going to be able to put up much of a fight.

  “All right,” he said with a shrug, hefting himself out of the hatch once more.

  The others followed, and they soon found themselves surrounded by a circle of vaguely menacing men in clothes ill-suited to the environment. They wore makeshift cloaks, their hands buried under the layers of fabric, the outline of what might have been clubs visible beneath.

  “No funny business,” warned the leader, who stood a few inches higher than Terrance. He was about the same build but looked as if he put a bit more care into his figure. Whereas Terrance’s belly protruded in a generous mound that obscured his belt buckle, this man’s bulk seemed to be concentrated in his broad shoulders and thick arms.

  Terrance nodded to indicate his acceptance of the terms, too cold to speak.

  The man led the way, his team flanking Terrance and his men. Terrance looked upward, taking in the awesome scale of the domes. Their frosted surfaces gave off a soft glow now that had not been present when the drill arrived. Yet they were too opaque to venture a guess as to who, or what, dwelt within. They were like giant, armored creatures, a ring of unwavering sentinels watching over Antiquity’s Gate in silent solidarity.

  The group had walked only a few minutes before they came to the entrance of what appeared to be a tunnel. Just inside stood a massive door through which the men led Terrance and the others.

  It was much warmer inside, and Terrance was grateful for that much at least. They walked in silence for a time before he spoke up.

  “We were under the—apparently erroneous—impression that this city had been destroyed.”

  The corridor before them stretched out as far as he could see.

  “Well, it wasn’t,” said the man in a gruff voice.

  “I can see you are a man of few words,” Terrance said. “I can respect that.”

  The man grunted, though whether it was in agreement or annoyance, Terrance couldn’t be sure.

  “While I congratulate you on your roach-like tenacity in regards to survival, I must inquire as to how much further we will be required to walk?”

  Their leader only grunted, and Terrance felt compelled to continue.

  “I suffer from acute Chondromalacia Patellae. More commonly referred to as ‘bad knees.’“

  The man didn’t answer.

  At long last they came to another set of doors, and Terrance’s mind, which had begun to thaw from the initial shock of their situation, began spinning again.

  The Elves had said Sanctuary was no longer inhabited, and yet that had obviously been a lie. What else had they lied about? He felt both nervous and justified at the same time. He’d known the Elves were no good, filthy liars. He was walking through the proof, right now!

  They emerged into a large room full of unfamiliar machines, but when Terrance tried to stop and look around, one of the men following gave him a little nudge with his club, which Terrance could now see was a simple length of metal pipe.

  He gave the man a skeptical look. “You survived the Elves, and yet that’s the best you’ve got? A pipe? I’m not sure if I’m disappointed, or suitably impressed.”

  The man offered him a wicked grin. “Better than what you’ve got.”

  Terrance considered this. “True enough.”

  All around them, people stopped what they were doing to watch the strange procession as they passed. Some stole furtive looks while others just stared, slack-jawed. Must not get many visitors.

  Their hosts led them through to a room where they stopped. The leader punched something into a keypad and the ground beneath Terrance shook.

  He threw his arms out to steady himself against the unexpected motion and several of the guards raised their pipes as if expecting an attack. Terrance raised an eyebrow. Jumpy little buggers.

  They continued to rise, and when they came to a halt, they exited into another room where more of the strange machines lined the walls of a long, dim chamber.

  “More walking,” Terrance mumbled under his breath with a sigh. “Wonderful.”

  They marched through corridors and down long passageways up into a heavily populated lobby where yet more people stopped in their tracks to gawk at the odd assembly.

  Terrance did not enjoy all of this extra scrutiny, which made him very uncomfortable indeed.

  All of this exertion had caused quite a bit of perspiration beneath his heavy parka, but he left it on. If he took it off he’d have to carry it, and he didn’t feel much like carrying it.

  When at last their journey came to an end, Terrance found himself in a small room, barren except for a rather underwhelming model of Antiquity’s Gate which leaned cockeyed against the far wall.

  As they stepped inside, the door whooshed closed behind them. Terrance walked over to the wall and sat down, resting his back against it.

  “Ah, that’s better,” he said, feeling better already.

  The rest of his team stared at him. “What?” he said. “At the very least it’s warmer than the drill, right? Not apt to freeze to death in here.”

  The guards stood dutifully in front of the door, saying nothing, until at last it whooshed open again and several more people stepped inside.

  A tall man with neat, sandy blond hair surveyed the room, followed by a petite woman with dark curls and a shorter man who strutted in a way that reminded Terrance of how the royalty back home walked. Like some fancy peacock. Like he owned the place. This man looked over the group of strangers with wary, appraising eyes, but it was the sandy-haired man who spoke first.

  “This is all of them, Denton?”

  “Yeah,” affirmed the leader of the guards.

  “My name is Ed
win Smalls,” the man said, reaching out to Dante, who shrank back from his hand as though he had just been offered a venomous snake.

  Edwin frowned, and Terrance gave a guffaw. With some difficulty, he heaved himself back up from the floor and strode forward.

  “The man is supposed to be an Ambassadorial aid, but don’t expect him to be of any actual assistance.”

  He grasped Edwin’s hand firmly in both of his own. “The name’s Terrance. Terrance Wallace of Her Majesty’s great nation of Culei. I am both humbled and honored to make your acquaintance.”

  Edwin looked down at their clasped hands with a flustered frown.

  “Why are you here?” the shorter man demanded, stepping forward. “And what’s that thing you showed up in?”

  “This is Nelson,” said Edwin, gesturing toward the peacock. “Please excuse his brashness. But I have to admit, I’m eager to hear the answers to those questions myself.”

  Terrance nodded. “That’s our prototype. A drill, capable of boring through the ice surrounding your fine city like a fish through the water. At least, that’s the intention. Bit of a bumpy ride, in practice. And let me begin by saying that I would be more than happy to give you a rundown of its functionality, in full! However, I have got a few questions of my own. One in particular comes to mind. We were told that this city had been destroyed. How did you manage to avoid such a fate as to be either blown to bits or otherwise frozen into human popsicles?”

  Nelson scowled. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the unfortunate rumors of our demise are highly exaggerated. Not only is New Sanctuary fully functional—”

  Edwin cleared his throat, and Nelson’s mouth snapped shut, his face a mask of indignance. It was clear that he had more to say.

  “You’ll answer our questions first. Then, we’ll see where it goes from there.”

  Emboldened by Terrance’s lack of fear, Leon managed to find his voice. “So, are we...prisoners, or something?”

  Edwin looked over the Culeians, his eyes at last coming back to Terrance. He shook his head.

  “For now, we will consider you our guests. But that standing is wholly contingent on the information you provide. I’ll have some food brought down, and you will remain here for the time being. I’m going to assemble the Council, and then I’ll have someone come and collect you.”

  He tossed a meaningful look at the one he’d called Denton. “You stay here. I don’t want them leaving this room.”

  Edwin turned and Nelson did likewise, strutting back out of the room behind him. Denton moved back in front of the door, pipe in hand.

  “Feels a bit unfriendly,” Terrance told him. “I thought we were supposed to be guests, not prisoners?”

  “You’re guests all right,” Denton admitted with a wicked grin, “but if you try anything, you won’t find our hospitality to your liking.”

  “The only thing I’m going to try,” said Terrance, looking around again as if expecting something to have miraculously materialized, “is to find a chair.”

  “Terrance,” Leon murmured, moving up beside him. “How can you be so blasé about this? We’ve been captured! By the enemy!”

  Terrance waved a hand at him without so much as a second glance.

  “They ain’t the enemy. They’re just people.”

  He sat back down on the floor.

  “And if they find out...” Leon persisted, shooting a look at Denton, who was speaking to one of the other guards, “why we’re here?”

  Terrance shrugged. “Seeing how they know some of our company went through the Gate, chances are they’ll be able to put two and two together. I wouldn’t be placing any wagers on them thinking this was anything other than an attempt at negotiation.”

  Leon looked crestfallen.

  “There’s nothing we can do right now, so just sit tight and try not to soil yourself. Let’s hear ‘em out. We’ll explain the situation, apologize for conspiring with the beasties who tried to wipe them off the map, and I’m sure they’ll show us a modicum of human dignity, if not mercy. Which might well be more than we deserve after this debacle, if I might add.”

  The others just stared at him with open mouths, and Terrance closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall.

  “Looks like we may have backed the wrong horse, gentlemen,” he stated flatly. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but...I told you so.”

  Nine

  The Sea Rose Up to Meet Them

  “LOOK, I know we look alike and all, but I don’t think that’s going to work,” protested Felix. “I don’t know anything about him. I don’t know anything about this place, or your Council, or Imradia. Just because I might pass for Laevus, doesn’t mean I’m going to be able to fake it all.”

  “You don’t need to fake everything,” Onyx assured him. “Laevus gave us the perfect opportunity. He said himself that he was coming to get me. So, that means that I can be right by your side the whole time. I’ll guide you through. You don’t have to be perfect, Felix. You just have to get in, sabotage the talks, and get out.”

  “Without dying,” Gavin added, as if survival were an afterthought.

  Felix was still shaking his head. “I may be a little impulsive, but this plan sounds like a special kind of crazy. No one with half a brain is going to believe I’m Laevus.”

  “But no one is going to be looking for an imposter.” His mother was speaking in a quick, excited voice. “So, no one will be scrutinizing your every move. You played the part pretty convincingly back in Solara.”

  Felix glanced at Gavin, who nodded his agreement without smiling. “You had me fooled.”

  “I was just trying to act like the Elves in Sanctuary!” Felix moaned, “You know, pompous, arrogant—that sort of thing. It was luck. Just luck!”

  “Well, then, let’s hope it holds out. Gavin, get those Envicti out of their cloaks. We’re going to need them.”

  Laevus watched in silent fascination as they stripped the dead guards. Gavin wore the hooded cloak well, standing straight and tall. Tobias also put one on, though the effect was somewhat lacking.

  “A little short for an Envicti, aren’t you?” quipped Laevus.

  “It’s not great,” said Onyx with a frown, “but it will have to do. Besides, your job is simple—stay with the Floater.”

  “What about the third one?” Ambrose asked, nervousness evident in his expression. “Shouldn’t you be returning with the same number of guards he showed up with?”

  Onyx sized up the remaining options. “Penelope will have to do it. She fits the profile better than you do.” She looked at him apologetically. “No offense.”

  Laevus was chuckling now. They continued to ignore him.

  “Does it matter that I’m a woman? Won’t they notice?”

  “There are just as many women in the Envicti ranks as men. No one will give it a second thought. And you don’t have to speak,” Gavin told her. “In fact, I’d advise against it. The Envicti speak only to acknowledge a direct order. If someone’s giving you a direct order, you’re already too close.”

  No one, except perhaps Onyx, seemed happy with the way events were unfolding. But she seemed so confident, so determined. Felix found her manner both inspiring and unsettling, but he didn’t have time to ponder the source of her enthusiasm. Soon, he was wearing Laevus’ tunic and pants and his brother was once again tied to the tree, this time in only his undergarments.

  “All right, then, everyone ready?” Onyx asked, walking around Felix to inspect his disguise one last time.

  Penelope hugged Ambrose. “Be careful,” he told her, before he looked at the rest of them. “All of you.”

  Felix jerked his chin in his brother’s direction. “You just stay here and keep Laevus out of trouble.”

  “Trouble?” purred Laevus. “Why would I cause Tubby any trouble? I’m sure we’ll have a splendid time together. Tubby! I’m cold. Fix us some tea.”

  “Watch yourself,” Felix muttered, giving Ambrose a
pat on the shoulder. “I don’t think he’s all there.”

  “Oh, he’s all there, all right,” Onyx cut in gravely. “Don’t let your guard down, Ambrose. Laevus is nothing if not cunning.”

  Gavin climbed into the Floater and took the driver’s seat, reaching down to help Tobias and Penelope scramble up.

  Onyx boarded with effortless grace, and Felix managed to get in with a modicum of dignity. “These things should float lower to the ground.”

  Gavin turned the craft around and spoke over his shoulder to Onyx.

  “The Evenmire?”

  “Yes.”

  Penelope leaned forward. “What’s the Evenmire?”

  “It’s the Theran name for what you call Antiquity’s Gate,” Onyx replied. “That will be where Laevus was heading.”

  “How can you be sure?” pressed Tobias, his face worried beneath the hood. “Couldn’t he have been planning to bring you back to Imradia first?”

  As if in response to his question, the Floater’s comm came to life.

  “Vanguard One, come in.”

  There was a short pause, then the voice came again. “Vanguard One, come in please.”

  Onyx and Gavin exchanged glances. “I think that’s us.”

  Gavin flicked a small toggle on the Floater’s console. “Vanguard One.”

  “We are on route to the Evenmire. The Ambassador is due to arrive at sundown. Have you collected your package?”

  Gavin looked sideways at Onyx. “Collection complete. See you at the rendezvous.”

  He hit the toggle again and indicated that it was safe for the others to speak once more.

  “Nice job,” Penelope told Gavin. “They didn’t even question you. Almost seemed like you’d done this before.”

  “I have.”

  “Oh.”

  No further explanation seemed to be forthcoming.

  “You know,” remarked Tobias, “this might all be for naught. There might not be any talks to sabotage.”

  “What do you mean?” Felix asked him sharply. “Why wouldn’t there be?”

  “Well,” Tobias continued, “if Sanctuary tried to destroy us on our way through the Gate, there’s no reason to assume they wouldn’t do the same to the Culeian Ambassador and his retinue, is there?”