Through the Mirrah Read online

  The cashier said something to Guard Two, and he turned to respond. Aideen hurried through the door before he got another look at her.

  AIDEEN’S HEAD THROBBED, and she stumbled. Her hat fell off and her wet hair slapped her in the face.

  “Must be all the blacking out.”

  She caught herself on all fours but gave herself a moment before standing and gawking at the scene around her.

  “I knew I was dreaming!”

  She stood in her living room. It must have been hers; every detail was right. Except for the mirror. When she left, shards of glass littered the carpet. Now, the mirror was intact.

  “Which proves it.” She shook her head. “Intense.”

  When she considered how much she drank last night, she should be either drunk or hungover, depending on how long it had been. The clock read 8:06 a.m. What did she drink last night? Her life would be so much easier with hangover-free alcohol.

  She entered the kitchen, hunting for breakfast. The bourbon bottle on the counter distracted her from any thoughts of food. She studied the label and its normal, relatively harmless Earth-turkey. The kind you slaughtered and ate on Thanksgiving Day. The realization solidified the idea that Aideen’s crazy journey had been concocted by her mind.

  “I made up the monsters because I see these turkeys all the time.”

  She grabbed a glass, poured the golden liquid, and held the glass to her lips when she recalled a snippet of her dream.

  ‘You’re destined for important things …’

  Details of both the conversation with Sterling and the whole dream flooded back. Normally, she forgot details as time passed, not remembered them.

  “What the hell is going on?” She placed the glass next to the bottle.

  “Come on, Fartzpatrick. You know you want a drink.” Her high school bully Damien’s disembodied voice echoed through the room.

  Where did that come from?

  “Drink it, Fartzy.”

  “No.”

  “Ade.” She could picture her Grandfather shaking his head. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”

  “Grandad? Where are you?” Aideen spun, looking for the source of the voices.

  “Aideen, grab Daddy’s Go-Juice from the fridge, will you?”

  “Daddy?” Aideen’s voice rose, and she felt three feet tall. She remembered how her father would collapse on the couch after work. He’d ask her to get a beer for him, calling it his ‘Go-Juice.’

  “Grab one for yourself, while you’re at it.” Her father’s voice took on a sinister tone.

  Aideen crushed her ears with her hands.

  “Stop. This isn’t happening. You’re dead.”

  “Daddy’s dead and I’m in charge.” Her mother cackled. “Do as I say, you worthless brat.”

  Aideen cried. Mother had always been good for that.

  “Drink it, Fartzy.” Damien goaded. “If you want to shut us up, drink it.”

  She reached a shaking hand out and closed her fingers around the glass. As she raised it again, the smooth nectar inside became bubbling black goo.

  Poison. She slammed the glass onto the counter. Her hand pulsed as shards pierced her palm and fingers. As she held it in front of her face, blood trickled down her wrist.

  “This isn’t real. None of you are here. Leave me alone!” She grabbed the bourbon bottle by the throat and smashed it against the counter. Eye twitching, she fought the urge to cut someone.

  Good thing no one else was here.

  “What are you gonna do, Fartzy? Try to kill yourself again?” Damien’s voice laughed.

  “Shut up!” She screamed as she dragged the broken bottle along the inside of her left arm, elbow to wrist.

  Blood streamed onto the floor as Aideen dropped to her knees, dry heaving. Damien’s laughter faded, along with a parting thought from her mother.

  “You need to wake up, Aideen.”

  “I am awake!”

  Aideen hurled the bloody, broken bottle at the wall, which rippled as the glass disappeared. Aideen tensed, then remembered her mirror. It had rippled like that when her dream began.

  Sniffling, she approached the wall. She took care not to walk straight into it, in case she was imagining things. She tried pressing her hand against the wall, but her hand continued right through.

  Chapter Five

  It was an illusion. Aideen choked back a sob. She walked through the wall and stood outside the prison, blood pooling in the dirt next to her. Knees threatening to buckle, she forced herself to walk. Nausea knotted her stomach.

  Keep moving. If I stop, they’ll catch me.

  She wondered how many people the Trappers found, having succumbed to their nightmares and huddled or unconscious, just outside the door.

  The illusions must be triggered by tripwires or something. How did they choose the illusions? Brain scans?

  She shuddered, and her knees gave out. Crawling, she made her way around the corner of the building, dirt sticking to the blood on her arm.

  “Aideen!”

  She kept crawling, unsure if she was imagining another voice. Then she recognized it, but not from her old life.

  “Come on. They’ll notice you Realized soon.” Rag Man grabbed her by the armpits and yanked her up.

  “Realized what?”

  He ducked under her good arm and took most of her weight as they shuffled away from Jay Ridge and into a small forest. “Realized that was just an illusion. Once you Realize, the illusion is broken.”

  Aideen frowned, then realized something else. “They were taking you to Jay Ridge, too. How did you get out?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “How long was I in there?”

  “Hard to say for sure.” He steered her around an old stump. “Four or five hours?”

  “That’s all? This day is dragging on forever.”

  “It’s the usual twenty-eight hours, just like any other day.”

  “Twenty-eight?” Aideen cried out as a branch whipped the gash on her arm.

  “What did they do to you?” Rag Man jerked his head toward Aideen’s arm.

  “I did this. I had to make it stop. Can we rest?”

  “They’ll know where we went. They’ll see the blood.”

  “Then what’s the point of running?” Her head was trying to float away; her spine was the kite string keeping it from flying off. That reminded her of the tree with the brain, and her stomach lurched. “If they’re going to catch up to us anyway, we may as well catch our breath. Maybe sit for a minute.”

  Rag Man leaned Aideen against a tree and rummaged in the undergrowth.

  “We don’t have a minute.” He tied a vine of some sort around her bleeding arm. “That’s all I can do for now. We’ll find someone to patch you up in the village.”

  A gruff voice and a Turkey’s screech carried through the woods.

  “Hear that? They’re right behind us. When they catch us, they will kill us both. And believe me, they won’t make it quick.”

  “I can’t go on. My legs . . .”

  “Come on.” Rag Man turned his back to her and squatted. “Get on.”

  “You can’t carry me.”

  “Get on or I’m leaving you here.”

  Another Turkey screech reverberated through the trees. Aideen lurched onto Rag Man’s back and he trotted away from their pursuers.

  As they continued, Aideen admired Rag Man’s stamina. For someone who appeared to be in worse shape than she was in, he ran with dead weight amazingly well.

  As Aideen saw more daylight filtering in between the trees, the sounds of their pursuers faded.

  “Did they stop chasing us?”

  “They’re not big fans of where we’re heading.”

  “The village?” Aideen doubted she wanted to be anywhere near a place those monsters were afraid of.

  “The Chasm.”

  WITH THE FOREST BEHIND THEM, Aideen and Rag Man trudged across barren rocks. Aideen tripped over an outcropping.
/>   “I see why the Trappers hate coming this way. Isn’t there a road or something?”

  “We’re close,” Rag Man said.

  “What’s so interesting about a big hole in the ground?”

  “I want you to meet someone.”

  “In a chasm?”

  “The Chasm is her home.”

  “I’m not sure what’s crazier: living in a chasm or being friends with someone who lives in a chasm.”

  “She can help you.”

  “No. I don’t want to get anyone else hurt or killed.”

  “Who’s been hurt or killed?”

  “My dad, my grandad, my ex . . . I got you captured. And Sterling.”

  “Sterling is okay.”

  “What?” Aideen halted.

  “He told me the tower burned. He was trapped under rubble in the pond but freed himself. When he surfaced, and you were gone, he feared your Trapper had taken you to Jay Ridge.”

  “When did you talk to him? Where is he now? Will he still help me?”

  “He went home to dry off. He’ll be waiting for us in the village.” Rag Man pointed ahead, into the barren expanse ahead of them.

  They continued in silence until Aideen put a shaky hand to her mouth.

  “Are you okay?” Rag Man asked.

  “Just a little nauseous. Maybe from losing consciousness so much.”

  “When did you last have a gojoos?”

  “The one you gave me was my only one.”

  Rag Man nodded. “Withdrawal. Sterling will likely have gojoos you can have.”

  “I thought you said it was for hangovers.”

  “It is,” Rag Man said. “But it also eases symptoms of withdrawal.”

  “Sounds like magic.”

  Rag Man shrugged.

  “You’ll get in trouble with the Trappers for helping me, won’t you?”

  “I’m wanted for worse than helping Refuse evade Trappers.”

  What did he mean? Had he killed people? Was Aideen even on the right side of whatever was happening?

  Maybe the Trappers were the ones trying to save the world. Sure, their punishment for addiction was harsher than the crime, but you fixed that with a civil conversation among leaders. There must be a compromise. It didn’t need to come to ‘us versus them,’ right?

  “We’ll stop to see my friend on the way to the village,” he continued. “She can explain how you’ll get home, but you need to help us with something before you go.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll let the Ostrich explain.”

  “Where I come from, ostriches can’t talk.”

  “They have their own form of communication. If you pay attention, you’ll understand.”

  “Why can’t I go back to the atrium I arrived in? Can’t I go home that way?”

  “That won’t work. I promise, we can get you home, but we need your help.”

  “Why me? Aren’t there others who can help? Or is it just those guys?” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.

  “You’re different. It needs to be you.”

  “Why? What if I never came here?”

  “We didn’t know it would be you, specifically, but we knew you would be here.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “The Ostrich will explain.”

  “Is the Ostrich a king or something?”

  “No. She’s more of a living god.”

  Aideen stopped and stared at Rag Man. “A god? In real life? Is she immortal?”

  “Possibly.”

  They continued and soon came to a gaping mouth in the ground. Almost as if the earth was screaming at the sky. Aideen took one step closer to the edge of the Chasm and peered down.

  A bird, curled in a nest on a ledge sixty feet below, had different coloring from that of the Turkeys Aideen had seen. Is it a young Turkey or a different monster altogether?

  The bird lifted her head and peered at them. She appeared to size Aideen up, as much as Aideen sized up the bird.

  “That’s her,” Rag Man said.

  Her head was spotted with feathers, but her face was less menacing than the Turkeys’. A rounded beak and soft eyes suggested this bird was gentle . . . but Aideen didn’t drop her guard.

  The Ostrich stretched to its full height, revealing a body Aideen recognized as an ordinary ostrich’s. Unlike Earth ostriches, this one had a fluffy tail, plumage ringing her neck, and dragon wings covered in long feathers.

  She spread her wings and rose into the sky, hovering above Aideen and Rag Man for a few seconds before landing on the lip of the Chasm. She approached Rag Man first. They stared at each other, Rag Man nodding.

  Aideen glanced from Rag Man to the Ostrich, waiting for either of them to speak.

  The Ostrich turned to Aideen, twisting her neck to look at her from different angles. Aideen tensed and her eyes narrowed as the Ostrich neared, but she kept her ground. They studied each other up close.

  “The Ostrich welcomes you to D’Nal Harrim,” Rag Man said. “And thanks you for coming to see her.”

  Aideen peeked at Rag Man from the corner of her eye.

  “Thanks? I haven’t exactly had fun so far.”

  “The Ostrich says it hasn’t been much fun for D’Nalians either. Which is why we need your help.”

  “How am I supposed to help?”

  “This conversation might be easier if you listened to the Ostrich directly.”

  Aideen gazed at the Ostrich. She couldn’t read the bird’s expression, but she knew she missed something.

  “Is the Ostrich going to say something?”

  “The Ostrich has been communicating this whole time. You need to listen.”

  How do you hear something when there’s no sound?

  The same way you speak without opening your mouth, a foreign voice replied.

  “Shit, what was that?” Aideen recoiled.

  “That’s the Ostrich,” Rag Man said.

  “She can hear everything I’m thinking?”

  “No, only what you broadcast. It does take practice.”

  You are hurt, the Ostrich thought.

  Aideen looked at her arm, which she had somehow forgotten. “Yeah, I should do something about that.” She tried to tighten the bloody vine with one had. “Sorry.” Yes, I need to—

  I hear you, the Ostrich thought. I will be quick, so you can continue to the village and find help.

  Thank you. She struggled with the vine, hoping the bleeding had slowed enough that she’d manage to last that long.

  You were brought here by the leader of the Trappers, the Ostrich began. They’re searching for the Prophesied One. They’re afraid that the prophecy will come true. Which, of course, it will.

  What prophecy?

  Rag Man’s voice chimed in her head as he approached her to assist with the tourniquet. The Creator from Away who rises and falls in reverse to the sun will lead us. War against the greatest evil shall be won.

  If they’re afraid of the prophecy coming true, why bring the Prophesied One here?

  So they can deal with you on their own terms, the Ostrich thought. Anyone they believe could be the One, they send here to capture or kill so the prophecy won’t come true.

  That’s how the Dark Man found me when I arrived.

  Yes, Rag Man thought. The leader of the Trappers, Jimmy, is Away, sending Refuse over, and he tells his Trappers here when someone’s coming.

  Aideen’s stomach dropped at the mention of her bartender. Could it be the same guy? No, Jimmy was as Boston as they come. Shit, did I broadcast that?

  You broadcast the question, the Ostrich thought. We heard nothing before that.

  How does he send people over?

  No time for that now, the Ostrich thought. I need your word you’ll help us, so you can find help for that arm. The Ostrich swiveled her neck to face Rag Man. Tell her.

  Rag Man took over as the Ostrich returned to her nest.

  “You need to let Sterling take you east, to the Brown
Ostrich.”

  “Another Ostrich?”

  “This one is a place where Refuse go to train so they can defeat their Trappers. Traditionally, a Trapper hunts a Refuse. The Refuse either gets caught, and the Trapper finds new prey, or the Refuse kills the Trapper and keeps their freedom.”

  “Until this prophesied war.”

  “Yes,” Rag Man said. “We need you to train. You can’t leave until you’ve defeated your Trapper.”

  “But you just said some Trappers aren’t killed . . . they go on to trap other Refuse. Why do I need to kill this Trapper?”

  Haven’t you been listening? The Ostrich had returned with a string of green rocks dangling from her beak. They suspect you of being the Prophesied One. So do we.

  That’s ridiculous. I couldn’t survive a war, let alone lead one.

  We’ll see, the Ostrich thought.

  What is that? Aideen pointed to the green stones hanging from the Ostrich’s beak.

  The Ostrich held them out, and Aideen took what turned out to be a necklace. Made entirely of what looked like raw emeralds, the strand of chunky stones held a large, vaguely heart-shaped pendant. She ran her finger over an inscription, in the odd D’Nalese script, across the front of the heart. Aideen could not read it.

  She turned the cool stones over in her hands, contemplating. This prophecy stuff couldn’t be true. At least, not about her. It was the sort of story people told of great (often fictional) heroes, the ones that set out to save the world. Like Link. Or Harry Potter (in Deathly Hallows, at least).

  I’m not exactly Harry. I’m just trying to find a way home.

  The whole idea of being someone important appealed to her. The adventure so far was less than thrilling, but with help, maybe things would change.

  Crazy much? What do you expect will happen? You save D’Nal Harrim, they carry you on their shoulders . . . Then what? They say ‘later’ and you go home? What if it’s not so easy? What if you’re hurt or killed?

  Did it matter? She had nothing back home. Besides, she had always aspired to do something of importance. This could give her the opportunity to prove she could be of value. She hadn’t managed that since high school.

  Her arm twinged; she needed to answer. She peered up into the hopeful eyes of Rag Man and smiled when she saw the Ostrich’s nearly identical expression.