Through the Mirrah Read online

  Sign me up.

  Rag Man clapped his hands together as the Ostrich honked like a goose and flapped her wings.

  Excellent! Rag Man thought. We’ll guide you to the Bo—the Brown Ostrich—straight away. Dawn will be thrilled to meet you, and we’ll start your training before the day is out.

  “Calm down before I change my mind.” Aideen laughed, suddenly nervous at the responsibility ahead of her.

  Time to go, Aideen, the Ostrich thought. You need that arm checked out, then Sterling can bring you to the Bo.

  I can bring her to the village, Rag Man thought.

  No, the Ostrich thought. I need you to do something else for me. Wait here, and I’ll take her.

  Rag Man nodded to the Ostrich.

  “Good luck,” he said to Aideen. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

  The Ostrich turned her side to Aideen and hunched down.

  Get on and hold tight, the Ostrich thought.

  Aideen climbed onto the Ostrich’s back. She was afraid to hold the bird’s neck, fearing she’d choke her by accident. She held the Ostrich’s shoulders and squeezed her legs behind the bird’s dragon wings.

  The Ostrich leaped into the air, jostling Aideen, and soared northeast, toward Sterling.

  Crags gave way to soft, grassy earth. Tiny shadows on the horizon grew into houses. Aideen heard voices, then a Turkey squawk as the Ostrich circled and landed just outside the village.

  I must return, the Ostrich thought. Sterling will guide you further. Good luck, Young One.

  I’m not that young. Aideen slid to the ground.

  If you are truly the Prophesied One, the Ostrich thought. You were born nearly seven hundred years ago. But you are not seven hundred years old.

  No. Not even close. Aideen stepped back and the Ostrich nodded and took off, gliding through the air toward her chasm.

  Seven hundred years ago? Not possible.

  Another squawk grabbed Aideen’s attention and she turned onto what turned out to be the only street. Not a proper street but a dirt road. But central enough to allow her a full view of the scene playing out in the village center.

  Sterling was indeed alive and well. For now, anyway. His back to Aideen, he faced off against a Turkey . . . and the nurse she had knocked out when she escaped Jay Ridge: Matt.

  Matt saw Aideen and sneered. Sterling turned.

  “Stay back, Aideen!”

  “That’s the best you can offer her?” Matt laughed. “That won’t help after I’ve dealt with you.”

  “I won’t step aside.”

  “Take him,” Matt commanded.

  The Turkey charged at Sterling.

  “No!” Aideen searched for something to distract the Turkey with. The Turkey took Sterling in its talons.

  A smiling sun painted on a stone smiled up at Aideen from a garden in front of one house. She picked it up and ran her finger over the crude portrait. A child’s, she guessed.

  Sorry, kid. Aideen ran toward the Turkey as the beast rose into the air.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  Matt blocked Aideen’s path. Aideen tried to evade him, but he held her. She tried to ignore the pain shooting through her left arm as she struggled against his grip, watching Sterling dangling in the air. Sterling called to her.

  “Go east. Find Dawn.” He pointed as the Turkey whisked him away.

  Aideen stopped fighting against Matt’s grip. “What are you doing? You don’t want to be on the wrong side of things.”

  Matt laughed.

  “Oh, I’ve chosen the right side.” He smiled. “I’m thrilled they gave me the opportunity to capture Sterling and prove my true worth as a Trapper. After this, I’ll be promoted and won’t ever have to see inside the Jay Ridge cells again.”

  Aideen clawed at Matt. Remembering the rock in her right hand, she slammed it into his temple.

  Chapter Six

  Aideen crouched to take Matt’s pulse. He may be unconscious, but he was alive. Torn between relief at not having killed him and the desire to finish what she started, she considered her choices. A pounding headache interrupted her thoughts.

  Plus, the longer she took to decide, the farther the Turkey got with Sterling. She dropped the rock and ran, stumbled rather, north after them. Through the stand of trees just outside the village, it surprised her to find herself not far south of the Compass Pond.

  To avoid looking at the tree that made her queasy, she scanned the sky for the Turkey. The damn thing flew too fast. Not a single spot in the sky betrayed its location. She slowed to a jog before coming to a shaky stop by the western shore of the pond.

  The former tower’s dome jutted out of the water. The elevator rested on its side, near the southern shore.

  Nothing there to help me now.

  Aideen gazed past the wreckage, wondering how far the Bo was. The Ostrich and Sterling were eager for her to find it. But could she leave Sterling when he’s in such danger? He wouldn’t, had the roles been reversed.

  Now what? Hike through a forest and up a mountain . . . with no supplies, no help, and a bum arm?

  She again noticed the nondescript building squatting all alone in the middle of the desert to the west. Not close, but closer than whatever lay east. Her arm still bled, and she didn’t have a lot of blood left to lose.

  Mystery building it is.

  AIDEEN ARRIVED AT WHAT proved to be little more than a shack. She studied the weathered sign over the splintered wooden door. “Froug Pound” was scrawled under a crude rendering of a frog squatting on a lily pad.

  Since when does anyone spell ‘frog’ with a ‘u’? I guess that makes this place the Frog Pond?

  She opened the door and butterflies that had been dormant in her stomach awakened and started to flutter. The familiar and comforting aromas of hops and yeast caressed her nostrils. Conversations hummed and the clinking of glasses whispered sweet nothings in her ears. Thirst enveloped her, and she longed for a drink. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Remember why you’re here.

  Opening her eyes, she stepped up to the counter and waited as the bartender put away a glass and slung a bar cloth over their shoulder. As they turned toward Aideen, their bold, scarlet lips parted in a bright smile.

  “What can I get you, honey?” The bartender sidled over, tucking their flowing hair back to reveal a strong, chiseled jawline. “Whoa, that looks bad. Let me grab my kit.”

  Aideen waited as they ducked behind the bar. They re-emerged with a large first aid kit.

  “Gimme that arm, and I’ll clean up whatever you’ve got going on.”

  Aideen laid her arm on the bar. The bartender untied the vine and dabbed around the wound, apologizing every time Aideen flinched.

  “What happened?”

  “I escaped from Jay Ridge. There was . . . a trap.”

  “Escaped Jay Ridge? That’s a feat. Lucky you came away with only this.” They dabbed the last of the dried blood away from the cut. “This needs stitches. You should see a proper nurse.”

  “I can’t do that. I need to get to that mountain in the forest.”

  “Crowned Eagle Mountain? Why? The only things up there are the kahprahlehsee and the old prison tower.”

  “What the heck is a capra-lessy?”

  “It’s what happens when Turkeys get too friendly with the village goats. Goat bodies, Turkey wings, mutated heads. You’re sure to see them if you’re headed up the mountain.”

  “Sterling Falcon is up there. I need to save him.”

  “They took Sterling? Holy Ostrich. They must have found . . .” They furrowed their thick brow. “Why do you need to save him?”

  “It’s my fault they took him. He was trying to help me.”

  Their eyebrows jumped.

  “You’re the one? I never . . .” They rummaged in the first aid kit and pulled out gauze and tape. “I’ll tape you up as best I can, but it will be night long before you make it up the mountain. I have a spare cot. Stay here, rest up, and
you can leave in the morning.”

  They wound the gauze around her arm, wrapping it like the neck of a baseball bat.

  “That’s kind, but I’d hate to make Sterling wait.”

  “You think you’re gonna get there faster in the dark? With that arm? Stay here, get a warm meal and a good night’s sleep, and you’ll be able to see where you’re going in the morning. Trust me, you don’t want to mess with that forest in the dark.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “It means I’m making up the cot for you. What would you like for dinner? Roasted Turkey?”

  “I’m feeling a little queasy. I’d rather not eat.”

  The bartender eyed her. She felt a bead of sweat trickle down her brow. She wiped it away with a trembling hand.

  “Are you in withdrawal?”

  “No, I’m just tired. I’ve been running since I got here.”

  The bartender shook their head. “Honey, you can’t fool me.”

  They ducked under the bar and came up with a gojoos. Aideen’s mouth watered as they sliced it half and put it on a plate in front of her.

  “Eat up.” They placed a spoon beside the plate. “You’ll feel better. Meanwhile, I’ll go make up that cot for you.” They disappeared through a door behind the bar.

  Aideen glanced at the other patrons. Some were in animated conversation with their companions. Some were quiet, their only company pint glasses filled with clear, liquid gold. She licked her lips, turned back to the bar, and picked up the spoon.

  AIDEEN WIPED HER MOUTH and tossed the napkin onto her empty breakfast plate, sticky with green juice. She didn’t know how it worked, but the gojoos had cleared her head and eased the sweating and shakes. All she felt now was a pang of guilt over taking so long to get to Sterling.

  The bartender stepped out of the back room and slapped a rucksack onto the bar.

  “This is all I could rummage up, but the other option is miles out of your way.” They emptied the sack to show Aideen her supplies.

  “There’s water in here.” The bartender brandished a canteen. “A few sandwiches and some DSCOs that should keep.” They pulled these out and laid them on the bar next to the canteen.

  Discos, not Neccos. Aideen wondered if they tasted the same.

  The bartender also provided a knife that reminded her of her grandfather’s old KA-BAR and some matches that would come in handy. She wasn’t so sure about the frayed rope.

  “It looks sad,” the bartender said. “But that’s the strongest rope in D’Nal Harrim. Braided kahsihvee stalks.”

  Aideen shrugged. “Better than going in completely unprepared. Thank you.” She stuffed the supplies, and the extra gauze and tape, back into the sack.

  “One more thing.”

  The bartender ducked under the bar and came up with three gojoos, which they laid in front of Aideen. “Take these, for when you start feeling lousy. But for now . . .” they poured a shot of something that stung her nostrils.

  “I shouldn’t.” Aideen put up her hand as the bartender pushed the shot glass toward her.

  “It’ll calm your nerves. At least enough to set foot into the woods. And maybe help a little with the pain.” They nodded at her arm.

  She hesitated. “I can’t pay.”

  “Honey, just bring Sterling home safe.”

  So much for getting out without a drink. Aideen dumped the liquid down her throat. It stung like vodka but had the smoky flavor of an aged whiskey. The empty glass dared her to have another. She wondered how many she could knock back before she felt the effects.

  No more. Plunking the glass on the counter, she stood and snatched the rucksack. “Thanks for that. I should go.”

  “One last thing.” The bartender grabbed a napkin and a pen and scribbled a picture. “I don’t have a proper map, but that should give you a rough idea of where you’re headed.”

  They passed it to Aideen, who studied it. More desert between here and the forest. The forest stretched to the mountain. The D’Nalese labels on some of the landmarks were no help, but the pictures were enough to go on.

  “Thank you.” Aideen folded the napkin and slid it into her pocket.

  “Good luck, honey.”

  THE DESERT WAS BIGGER than Aideen had imagined and became much harsher as she traveled north. She had tried to decipher the label on the bartender’s map, but it looked like it said ‘chcrlhn plyn.’

  Would a vowel or two kill them? At any rate, she didn’t know what to call it. “‘Desert from the Pits of Hell,’ perhaps.”

  She stumbled over one of the infinite dunes of ash-like sand. Falling to her knees, she decided it was time for a break. She took a swig from her canteen and caught her breath. When lying down in the sand for a nap started sounding like a good idea, she stood and pressed on.

  When the ground under her feet became firmer, she looked up. The sand gave way to odd-looking shrubs, which gave way to trees. Aideen sighed and pushed on. As she staggered along the path, she processed all the crazy information from the Ostrich and Rag Man.

  She hadn’t prepared for a journey like this. Would she even survive? How long would it take? Aideen imagined being attacked, panicking, and getting slaughtered. Her body rotting on the forest path while Sterling died alone in a dank cell.

  It wasn’t that crazy. The Dark Man (and the Turkeys) knew she was on her way. They could attack her long before she ever got close to Sterling. Or she could twist her ankle. Or trip and hit her head. Were there bears? What if she got lost? She might roam the forest in circles for days.

  What if she made it to the tower, but couldn’t help Sterling escape? What if she had to watch him die because she wasn’t good enough?

  “This is too much. I can’t do this alone.” Aideen turned and began to retrace her steps.

  She halted. There was no one else.

  Everyone seemed to think she was the Prophesied One. If she was to lead an army to victory, rescuing one guy from a tower on a mountain in the woods shouldn’t be a problem. It’s not like there’d be an army waiting for her. Or would there be?

  I wish Grandad was here. He would help me.

  If he were still alive and in this strange place with Aideen, he couldn’t do much, not with his cancer-ravaged body. But he always said the right thing to calm her down. He’d know what to do.

  But I don’t need him to tell me, do I?

  Aideen turned on the spot to face into the forest again. She couldn’t let Sterling down. Even as the Turkey whisked him away, his concern was for her, not himself.

  I need to go on.

  Aideen clenched her right hand into a fist and strode along the forest path. She stared ahead, focused on not losing her nerve.

  “As long as I do the best I can now, whatever happens, at least I’ll know I tried instead of hiding like a coward.”

  Not sure it would provide much comfort if she failed, or if she came across the Turkeys again, Aideen pushed on.

  THE D’NALIAN PLANT LIFE was starting to feel familiar. If she spent much more time in this forest, she might forget what the forests back home looked like. She pictured the park near her house. Her favorite part about Boston trees was the fiery colors of the leaves in the fall.

  “Before they fall off and turn a muddy brown. Then you gotta rake them all up before the snow falls, or they’ll be waiting for you where you left them come spring.”

  Not that Aideen minded the raking, at first. She had been so excited to be a homeowner, finding joy in all the mundane chores. She hadn’t minded . . .

  Until I started drinking five hours a night after work.

  Thinking about her drinking habits and acknowledging the truth, for once, made her queasy. The more she thought about it, the more she realized her friends and family were right to worried about her.

  She wondered if she’d ever break the habit when a fog rolled in. Except, judging by the stench of tar and rotting fish, this was no ordinary fog.

  Aideen held her nose with one hand. “W
hat the heck is this?”

  The stinky smoke became so thick, Aideen couldn’t see more than six inches in front of her.

  “I can make you a deal.” A deep voice emanated from within the cloud.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am the one who can clear the smoke for you.”

  “Fine, what’s the deal?”

  “I will clear the smoke if you close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

  “Easy enough.” Aideen did as she was told. “Clear the smoke already. I can’t see or breathe.”

  “It is agreed.”

  Aideen’s nose told her the smoke had disappeared, but when she opened her eyes, she saw even less.

  “Am I blindfolded?” She tried to reach up, but her hands seemed to be tethered to her waist, like a prisoner in shackles. “What did you do?”

  “I dispersed the smoke.”

  “And somehow blindfolded and tied me. Are you a wizard or something?”

  The voice laughed. “I am no mere wizard. Now, do you want the blindfold off?”

  “Yes,” Aideen said. “But I don’t want another deal.”

  She started toward the voice but stopped when a sharp pain stabbed her arm. “What was that?”

  “Watch out for the spikes.” The voice laughed again.

  “Bastard,” Aideen muttered.

  “Will you make a deal?”

  “I’m listening.” Aideen was trying to free her hands from their restraints.

  “I will remove the blindfold and ropes if you hold your breath.”

  “What’s the catch?” Aideen asked.

  “There’s no catch.”

  “Of course there is. You’ll take them off and what, you’ll bury me in quicksand? Or make me hold my breath until I pass out?”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” the voice said.

  “Thanks, but no deal.”

  “What are you going to do, wait for someone else to come along and help you?”

  “So what if I do?” Aideen challenged the voice.

  The ropes around her wrists and waist tightened.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “That is what happens if you do not act.”

  Aideen’s heart sped up as her mind skipped ahead to the worst-case scenario. If she did nothing, the ropes would cut circulation from her hands. Could the rope around her waist cut right through, if tightened enough?