by Bryan Davis
When they stopped in the driveway, Nathan reached for the door. “Everyone stay here while I check it out.”
“Not on your life,” Clara said as she whipped off her seat belt. “There is safety in numbers.”
Daryl leaned forward. “Yeah, Nathan. This house has ambush written all over it.”
He pulled the mirror from the glove box. “This will let me know if there's any trouble ahead. If everything checks out, I'll give the all-clear signal. No use risking anyone else's life.”
“I'm going!” Kelly yawned and shook her head as if casting off a fog. “You're stuck with me until this is over. Besides, you might need an interpreter.”
Nathan pointed at her. “Okay. Just you. Everyone else stay put. If something happens and we don't come back, go to the observatory. If we're alive, we'll try to contact you there somehow.”
Clara set her finger on the trunk release button. “Do you want your mother's violin?”
“Not yet, but pop it anyway so I can get an umbrella.” Still holding the mirror, Nathan got out and hurried around to the trunk. He grabbed an umbrella and opened it over Kelly's head as she stepped out of the car. Together, they splashed through the driveway's puddles, puffing clouds of white on their way to the front door.
Nathan jiggled the knob. Locked. Kelly dug into her jeans and withdrew a key ring. She chose a short silver key from a collection of four and inserted it into the deadbolt lock. It disengaged easily. And why not? The Clarks' Earth Blue and Earth Red houses were identical, so Kelly Red's key was bound to fit in the lock.
With a turn of the knob and a push on the hardwood panel, Nathan opened the door and leaned inside. As he took a few skulking steps into the spacious foyer, white vapor continued to stream from his mouth. Obviously the furnace was off.
He flipped the light switch, but the room stayed dim, illuminated only by inadequate daylight coming from a nearby picture window behind a dusty grand piano. They had seen sagging power lines along the way, ice weighing them down and knocking out electricity for every house in the area. No wonder all the roads had been deserted.
The bizarre September weather had probably frozen people's hearts in fear. It seemed that everyone had chosen to hibernate for a while, hoping they would wake up and find everything back to normal. But that wouldn't happen, at least not until they solved the interfinity problem. With Earths Blue and Red getting Earth Yellow's weather, and with Earth Yellow's time racing along at an unpredictable rate, “normal” would have to wait.
Nathan tucked the mirror under his arm and sneaked along the dim hallway, taking one slow step at a time. He shivered in the cold, drafty air. Something felt wrong, terribly wrong — not just the chill, but a sense of danger that seemed to increase with every step.
Ahead on the right lay his bedroom, yet, not really his. It had belonged to his Earth Blue twin, a victim of Mictar's fiery hand. Nathan tried to shake away the memory. The poor guy's face and his burned-out eye sockets had been stamped indelibly in his mind.
He searched for any sign of the murderer. The mental image of Mictar's fiendish eyes, ghostly pale complexion, and slick white hair sent shivers across his skin, especially now that he had watched the monster feed off yet another victim, the unsuspecting nurse back at the hospital. Since the celestial wounds were probably huge in this house, Mictar could easily be lurking nearby.
As he continued his furtive march, Kelly followed a mere step behind, her rapid breaths the only sound in the hallway. Apparently she also felt the strange sensation, the stillness that belies the brewing storm. As she clutched the back of his sweatshirt, her trembling hand sent another shiver across his skin.
“Are you going to use the mirror?” she whispered.
“In a second.” When they came within a foot or so of the bedroom, he stopped and reached his mirror across the doorway, angling it so he could see inside. So many times before, this mirror had provided a way to escape danger, either by showing him a threat in advance or creating a scenario that saved his skin, such as the time it displayed police officers arresting the gunman on the bridge even as he continued shooting while Nathan and Clara floundered in the Chicago River.
This time, the mirror reflected a thin white mist swirling at the center of the room, a slowly twisting eddy that stretched from the floor to near the ceiling. It looked like a skinny, stationary tornado, yet slower, more mysterious. As it spun, tiny pinpoints of light pulsed on its perimeter, glowing and fading, as if generated by the misty turbine but unable to draw enough energy from the sluggish engine to stay illuminated.
Nathan eased his head toward the opening. Dr. Simon had said that something unusual was going on here, and a swirl of mist hovering over the floor wasn't exactly normal, but with all they had been through, it seemed no more than another oddity in a long string of oddities. Still, Mictar had disappeared in a spinning mist of red. Could this be something similar, a visible manifestation of one of the cosmic wounds?
Tucking his mirror again, he stepped in. A much bigger mirror covered the wall to his left, reflecting his worried face and dampened, wind-tousled hair. This matrix of smaller mirror squares matched the one in his Earth Red bedroom, including the missing square in the lower left-hand corner. So many times before, this mirror had acted in the same way his portable mirror had, showing things that weren't really there and creating alternate realities that allowed for cross-dimensional transport, at least when accompanied by music and a flash of light. But now it just showed the room and the twisting mist, nothing unexpected.
Behind his image, a queen-size poster bed abutted the opposite wall, and the misty funnel spun near the bed's footboard. The mattress, covered with only a bare white pad, leaned precariously against the wall, its shell torn by a long gash and its inner stuffing scattered across the carpet. The old trunk, the mysterious wooden box that had once hidden treasures in its impenetrable casing, sat against the wall, unopened, as usual.
A frigid breeze blew in through the window at the far side of the room, flapping the drapes and blowing a clump of mattress padding over a toppled desk and lamp that had once stood to the right of the window. Yet, the gusts seemed to have no effect on the funnel. It continued to spin unabated.
“Something weird's going on,” Nathan whispered.
“That's nothing new.” Kelly tugged on his shirt. “Go in farther. I can't see a thing with you blocking the way.”
Now walking on tiptoes, as if to sneak by the swirl without drawing its attention, he crossed the room and closed the window. He rubbed a fingertip across two deep scratches in the painted sash. Could Patar have dug these ruts with his pointed nails? Or Mictar?
Nathan tried to twist the lock into place. The brass piece slipped and fell to the carpet, obviously already broken before he touched it. Forced open, no doubt.
Kelly leaned against the doorjamb, the Nikon camera dangling over her sweatshirt's cardinal logo. She blinked her glassy eyes. “Something's moving.”
Nathan edged closer to the swirl but stayed just outside of its misty funnel. “It's like a little dust devil made out of fog, and it has tiny sparks around it, like miniature fireflies. Seems harmless, but I'm not taking any chances.”
“Better get Daryl in here. She can send a photo back to Earth Red and get Dr. Gordon's opinion.”
“Good thought.” Nathan looked out the window at the Camry. Barely visible through the mist-covered glass, Clara flexed her fingers in front of the air vents. He caught her eye, and she lifted her hands in an “is it okay for us to come in now?” kind of pose.
He pulled Nathan Blue's cell phone from his pocket and punched in Clara's number.
She raised the phone to her ear. “Yes, Nathan.”
“All clear so far. Can you send Daryl in? We need her to transmit a photo. You might as well stay out there. It's freezing in here.”
“Will do. Be careful.”
“Always.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and kept his eye on the car. Daryl leaped out and
hustled toward the front porch, her eyes darting in every direction. While blowing fog whipped her hair into a frenzy, she puffed short bursts of white into the wind as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
Nathan turned back to Kelly. “She's on her way.”
A door slammed. “It's just me!” Daryl called. Light footsteps padded their way down the hall, then her smiling face appeared at the door, eyebrows scrunching down. “What a mess! Either someone had the worst nightmare in history, or the bed frame just vomited the mattress.”
Kelly grimaced. “Thanks for the lovely imagery.”
“No problem.” Pointing at the swirl, Daryl shuffled in. “What's this all about?”
Nathan shrugged. “Can you send a photo? Get Gordon's take?”
“Sure thing.” Daryl lifted her cell phone, pointed it at the funnel, and clicked a button. Then, while her thumbs flew across the keypad, she chattered rapid-fire. “I got a message from Daryl Red. She says Gordon got another email from Simon Blue. They finished analyzing the Earth Red Nikon. It's like you thought. It has a Quattro lens, and when you pointed it at a Quattro mirror and took a flash picture, you did a Ghost Busters no-no.”
Nathan rolled his eyes. Daryl had dropped a cryptic movie reference on them again. “Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I give. What's a Ghost Busters no-no?”
A satisfied grin spreading across her face, Daryl acted out her explanation, using her cell phone as a ray gun as she rattled off her words. “Egon told Peter not to cross the energy streams with their ghost-capturing guns or all life as they knew it would end. It was sort of the same thing the two Dr. Gordons did when they sent a flash through their observatory mirrors at each other. It created a ginormous dimensional hole that allowed Mictar and Patar to sneak out of who-knows-where and show up in our worlds.”
When Daryl took a breath, Nathan held up his hand. “Give me a minute to think.” He studied the swirl. Could it have materialized because of the recent photo Kelly took at the funeral? Was it some kind of cosmic hole? Could this be the path his parents took to that black vortex he had seen earlier? If so, why was the hole only in this dimension and not on Earth Red? And how could it last so long?
As Kelly drew closer, she kicked aside a pile of mattress padding. Something clinked near her feet. “What was that?”
Stooping, Nathan picked up a short chain. A broken manacle dangled at the end. Where the band was broken, the metal seemed malformed, as if it had been melted. “Dad's chains came off. Maybe a blowtorch?”
“No way,” Kelly said, touching one of the links. “I've watched my father use his. It would've broiled your dad's wrists.”
Staying low, Nathan dropped the chain and peeked under the bed's wooden frame. A violin case lay on the carpet next to more of the ripped-out mattress padding. He slid it out and snapped it open. Inside, he found his old violin, the one he had smashed against Mictar's face in the performance hall's prop room just a few days ago. Apparently, Nathan Blue had never experienced that adventure, so his violin remained intact.
He handed Kelly his mirror. “Let's see what the big picture looks like.”
She slid open the frame's fastener, pulled the glass free, and set the square in the wall mirror's empty space. It seemed to jump from her fingers and snap into place. A burst of energy swept across the reflection like a rippling wave of light, ending at the upper corner with a quiet popping sound.
Daryl's jaw dropped open. “Coolness!”
Staring at his reflection, Nathan lifted the violin and bow. What should he play this time? Interfinity's mirrored observatory ceiling needed specific melodies to create dimensional portals, but this Quattro-enhanced mirror had responded to almost any kind of music. Yet, it worked only when it wanted to, as if it had a mind of its own.
After giving the violin a quick tuning, he pressed the bow against the strings. With the ridiculous weather outside, a Christmas song seemed appropriate. As he played Mendelssohn's tune for “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” Kelly closed her eyes. Her brow furrowed, accentuating the gash across her forehead, the wound the mirror's edge had gouged into her skin during their recent plunge toward the Mississippi River.
Nathan tried to read her expression. Was she hearing words this time? Since she was the music interpreter, maybe she was getting another message from his mother that would help them figure out where she and his father went.
As he continued the melody, the swirl in the reflection expanded. The tiny lights on the funnel's perimeter brightened, pulsing like miniature strobes. The misty edges drew closer to the reflections of the trio. Although the real swirl stayed small, Nathan and Daryl backed away from it, giving their mirror images some space between them and the mysterious funnel.
Her eyes still glassy, Kelly stared again at the mirror. Moving her feet in time with the music, she inched toward the reflection. She lifted her hand and eased her palm close to the glass, murmuring, “There's something inside the swirl.”
Nathan squinted at the swirl in the mirror — nothing but fog and lights, thicker and brighter, yes, but nothing else.
Daryl touched the outer edge of the funnel. “I don't see anything.”
“It's a human figure.” Kelly drew a picture in the air with her finger. “Like a ghost … shapeless … floating with the spin.”
“Do you hear any words?” Daryl asked.
Kelly nodded. “A female voice. Singing. The words fit Nathan's music perfectly.”
“Then belt it out, sister. What are you waiting for?”
“I'm waiting for a new verse to start. It'll be hard to listen at the same time.” Kelly cleared her throat and sang, weakly at first, but her strength grew as the verse poured out.
Called to courage, called to rescue,
Called to join the precious few;
Given strength to rise from earth,
Reach for light and give it birth.
Plucked from earth and rising sunward,
Plunge within and journey onward,
Never fear the cries of men,
Rise above their mortal ken.
Take the reigns of freedom's light;
Help the weak escape the night.
Kelly let out a long breath. “Now she's repeating that verse.”
Still playing, Nathan eyed the funnel in the mirror as it expanded toward their images. Was the reflection showing the future? Did it need a flash of some kind to come true? With the electricity out and no time to hunt for a battery-operated light, the only option they had was the flash on the camera from Earth Blue, but that would be, as Daryl had said, “crossing the streams.” It always created a huge explosion of light that came back to zap them. Should they just jump into the vortex and hope for the best?
While Kelly kept her gaze locked on the mirror, Daryl turned to Nathan. “So, Amadeus, what's the verdict?”
“Just wait,” Nathan said, lifting his bow for a brief second to answer. Maybe the mirror would tell them what to do.
Daryl backed away from the reflection and spoke in elongated sing-song. “We've got company!”
In the mirror, the room's window to the front yard slid open, forced upward by a hand with sharp fingernails. A white-haired man climbed through. Tall and lanky, he was dressed in black boots, loose trousers made out of some kind of shimmering white fabric with royal blue stripes running up each leg, and a darker blue shirt, silky, with three-quarter-length sleeves and a V-neck that revealed a snowy plume of chest hairs.
Nathan caught a glimpse of the back of his head. No ponytail. Unless Mictar had cut his off, this had to be Patar.
The newcomer approached the foreground of the mirror, though he was absent from the bedroom itself. The reflected images of Nathan, Kelly, and Daryl froze in place, staring at the now stationary funnel of mist.
Nathan looked back at the real Kelly and Daryl. They, too, stood petrified, their arms and legs stiff and their expressions locked as if time had stopped.
Patar set his hands on his hips, a frown dressing
his face with scorn. “What are you doing here, son of Solomon?”
Nathan fumed. Patar wasn't exactly Mr. Congeniality, but Nathan knew he had to pay attention. His father had said this vision stalker would guide him in the right direction, but he emanated the charm of a headless horseman. He had more riddles than answers. “I'm looking for my parents. What was I supposed to do?”
“Are you so dull of senses? You saw for yourself how your father was trying to help your mother play the great violin. Have you forgotten his wisdom?”
Balling a hand into a fist, Nathan took a step toward the mirror. “Spit it out, Patar. Cut the questions and just tell it to me straight.”
Patar's eyes flamed red, but his voice stayed calm. “I tell it straight, as you say, to those with enough wisdom to understand the mysteries of the cosmos. You, child that you are, must learn wisdom as you proceed through the maze of unknowns. Otherwise, you would never be able to choose the right path when no one with wisdom is there to guide you.”
Nathan let out an exasperated sigh. What choice did he have? He would have to play along. “Okay. So, I'm a child. Just give me something to go on.”
“Very well.” Patar's brow lifted. “Finding your parents is an act that most would declare noble, but it is the selfish vision of an unlearned boy.”
“Selfish!” Nathan slapped the mirror with his palm. “They're trapped in some kind of black vortex. Releasing them from their prison isn't selfish.”
Patar thrust out his hands. As if blown by a hurricane gust, Nathan staggered backwards and fell on his bottom.
Holding up two fingers, Patar roared. “Two humans! Only two! You search the universe for the ones you think you love, while the lives of over fifteen billion others hang in the balance! You try to save two Homo sapiens who give you comfort and status, while billions of souls you care nothing about teeter on the brink of destruction.” He pointed a rigid finger at Nathan. “That, young traveler, is selfish.”
