The Woman in the Mirror
By Angela Roberts
Nim examined the last shard of the Mirror of Fate, rolling the triangular piece between her fingertips. It was neither glass nor metal, but something in between. The pieces never lost their strange liquid shine, and were it not already shattered, Nim would say the Mirror was indestructible. She had lived with the mystery of the Breaking all her life. She grew up in the tower that was built on the site of the Breaking. The Order of the Mirror raised her since they’d found her as an orphaned baby. Now Nim would become a Sister herself, the first to be inducted in thirty years.
The voices were louder now that the Mirror was nearly complete. More urgent. She could not hear them, but she felt them in her mind, in her body, like a persistent thrumming. Her imagination translated the thrumming into words. Fix it. Restore it. The Mirror must be whole. Obey. The voices were what led her to the shards. They directed her, showed her hands what pieces to pick up first and where to put them. Sister Anari thought the Gods had chosen Nim to restore the Mirror. Others thought Nim was mad. She wasn’t sure who was right.
The edges of the pieces glowed blue against the wooden frame she assembled them on. Her hand trembled as she held the last piece over the empty space. The voices grew more high-pitched; the polished shards of metal that was not metal sang to each other. The sound was ear-piercing. She struggled to stay conscious. Black spots formed around her vision. Awkwardly, she pushed the shard into place and fell back, the trapped air in her lungs rushing out of her in one long breath.
The web of blue light flashed to almost blinding brilliance for a heartbeat then subsided just as quickly, fading as the shards melted together. The pool of silver liquid roiled before her eyes. Then it hardened into a smooth surface. An image coalesced from the mist. Nim’s eyes widened.
A woman, perhaps a few years older and a few inches taller, looked out at her from the mirror. She wore green plate armour over a form-fitting wool shirt and leather pants that hugged her hips. Her greaves and bracers were etched with bronze designs Nim had never seen. Perhaps from some distant land. Her boots were brown and scuffed from frequent use. The woman’s skin was a rich cream colour, lighter than Nim’s, and her chestnut hair, longer and straighter but the same colour, framed her angular face. Her eyes were what shocked Nim. She saw the same deep green colour in her bedroom mirror every morning. But this woman was not Nim. She could feel that down to her bones. This was someone else, somewhere else, perhaps in some other time. But who?
They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity. Nim wondered if the other woman could actually see her. Her face was unreadable. She looked like she was in a trance. The background around her was indistinct. She floated in mist. Then the woman blinked as if waking from a dream and her face twisted in fury. Nim stepped back as the woman raised a large golden object and swung it down towards Nim.
***
Ian threw open the door of the tavern and struck his best heroic pose, hands on hips and feet spread. Ariana and Sienna stood behind showing bemused support. He raised his chin and boomed, “I understand you folks have a monster problem!”
He was greeted with mute indifference. The few patrons stared sullenly into their beer mugs. The bartender glanced briefly up at the door then went back to polishing cups with a gray rag. Ian, puzzled, looked at his companions. Ariana, pale and dark-haired, shrugged. Sienna adjusted the hood of her cloak, pushing in the strands of white hair behind her pointed ears. Nothing short of magic could disguise her light blue skin, but the look she’d given him the one time he had suggested she do so ensured it was the last time. The fey folk could be downright frightening when they wanted to be.
He turned back to the common room and puffed out his chest. “I understand…”
The bartender put down the cup he was cleaning with a loud thunk and spat out, “We heard ya the first time, outlander. What of it?”
Ian fought back a grimace. His darkly tanned skin and black hair made him stand out as much as Sienna in this sea of blond hair and blue eyes. He forced a smile and strode forward, laying both palms on the weathered bar. “I and my assistants there happen to be monster hunters.” He ignored the scowl directed at his back because of his use of the word assistants.
The bartender gave him a wry look. “Are ya, now?”
“Why, yes. We travel the land eliminating creatures of malignant intent for a price. We’ve just come from Kingshaven where we put down a 50 stone auroch.”
“They breed aurochs down there.”
“Yes, well, this one got out of its pen and was ravishing the local cows,” Ian stammered.
The bartended humphed. “You look more like professional fools to me.”
Ian gritted his teeth and widened his smile. He gestured to his faded red leather vest and trousers. “Not at all. I, for example, am formerly a member of the famous Red Riders. The young lady in green there is a Ranger of Vylkale Wood, and you might have noticed my blue friend there. She’s a Fey sorceress. So you see, we are entirely qualified.”
“Huh.”
“Our prices are very reasonable. We’ll take cash or barter. We’ll have your monster taken care of in the blink of an eye. Perhaps you can recommend someone to take us to its lair? Or direct us to where we may speak with the Village Elders?”
The bartender picked up another glass and rubbed the inside with the smudged rag. “No.”
Ian frowned. “Why?”
“Ain’t no monsters ‘round here.” He looked up at Ian. “If you ain’t drinking, you’re leaving.”
Ian cringed under his intense gaze. “Three mugs of ale, please.”
The bartender poured three mugs of dark ale and placed them in front of Ian. “Three coppers.”
“Right.” Ian fished in his thin coin purse and passed over the necessary cash. The bartender snatched them up. Ian nodded uneasily and picked up the mugs.
He carried the mugs of ale over to the table where the women were waiting and dropped into a chair. Sienna sniffed at one of the cups and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Is this what passes for ale in this place?”
Ian took a gulp and nearly spat it out. The dark brown liquor was watery and bitter. He grimaced. “This was a waste of time.”
Ariana drummed her armoured fingers on the table. Ian found that habit curiously charming in the severely beautiful Ranger. It was something he’d never dare tell her. She frowned speculatively as she noticed him looking at her. Ian flicked his gaze back to his drink. “After that auroch mess, we need a serious assignment or we won’t eat soon. My purse is almost empty.”
“Bloody herders. Refusing to pay,” Sienna muttered into her mug.
Ian shrugged in defeat. “I know that quite well. I was sure we would find something here. But it doesn’t look like we’ll get any cooperation from these people.” He turned at the sound of the stilted thunk of a wooden cane tapping the sand floor of the tavern. The gnarled cane belonged to a short plump crone. She wore a long formless gray dress that reached to just above her ankles and a black shawl draped over her shoulders. Wisps of slate gray hair stuck out of a black kerchief. Her face was so deeply lined that her eyes were round dark beads in the folds of her eyelids. She stopped in front of their table and leaned on her cane, her thin claw-like hands wrapped around the handle.
Her smile was gap-toothed and yellow. She cackled. “Looking for the beast?”
Ian backed up in his chair. Her breath was unpleasant. “So there is a beast?”
She cackled again. The sound was blood-curdling. The other patrons cringed over their beers. “Yes. Not far from here.”
“Then why…?” asked Ariana. The old woman’s stare silenced her.
“No one believes it exists. They think it is just an old wives’ tale,” she laughed at her own private joke. “But the beast exists. I know where its lair is.”
Ian rolled his eyes and turned away. “Ok, madam. Nice talking to you.”
He jumped as the old woman hit him hard on the backs of his calves. “Don’t mock me, boy! There is a beast in these parts, and if you want to get after it, you’ll need my guidance!”
Ian rubbed his calf muscles. “Bloody Hell! Fine. All right. I believe you.”
“Where is the monster’s lair?” asked Ariana.
The old woman smiled curiously at her. “Not far. I can show you. But there is something you must know first,” she paused for dramatic effect. “The beast guards many treasures. Among them is the Mirror of Fate.”
“The what?” said Ian and Ariana in unison.
The crone sighed. “The Mirror of Fate. The other treasures you may admire or keep, but you must leave the Mirror alone. For if you look into the Mirror of Fate, it will enchant you with an image of the future, and you will become its slave.”
Ian looked at his companions. Ariana looked thoughtful. Sienna looked bored. She hadn’t bothered to look up from her cup during the whole conversation. He turned back to the crone. “I think we’ll be fine. Show us this lair.”
***
Nim knelt in the soft light of the Sanctuary and contemplated the mysteries of the Broken Mirror. Around her in the chapel sat the Sisters in their flowing white robes, chanting the evening Devotions. The Sisters were in a circle around the pedestal that held the golden chest within which were the shards of the Mirror. Nim sat outside of the circle. Mother Bev spoke the verses and the others intoned the sacred responses. After each verse and response, squat bespectacled Sister Gara rang a miniature gong.
Nim, only a novice, was not permitted to speak during the proceedings. She knew all the words by heart, and one day she would have her chance to join the Sisters. But for now, she could only sit and listen. She didn’t mind so much. She enjoyed soaking in the atmosphere.
Nim turned as she heard a whisper behind her. It was like a breath of the wind. No one was behind her. She turned back to her meditations.
Nim. A whisper only, this time from beside her. She jerked her head to the side. Nothing there. She frowned, wondering if she was hearing things. Stern Sister Felice scowled at her for losing her composure. Nim shook her head and settled down. There was nothing. She was only imagining it.
Nim. The Mirror must be restored. This time the voice was clear. But it was not only one voice, but many, all speaking together. They were all around her. Nim closed her eyes, trying to ignore them. Nim. Restore it. Fix the Mirror. You must. She gritted her teeth. There were no voices. She was not hearing anything. She wasn’t.
Obey. Restore the Mirror. Take the shards. Nim’s eyes opened. She could feel ghostly hands take her arms and raise her to her feet. The voices whispered in each ear. She could not control her body. Slowly, as if in a dream, Nim entered the circle of Sisters and approached the chest.
The Sisters did not immediately understand her goal. Those closest to her grimaced at the intrusion but did not speak for fear of interrupting the ritual. But when Nim actually reached out and touched the sacred chest, several of the Sisters rose belatedly to pull her back. She did not notice their frantic grabbing of her skirts but instead undid the latches on the shimmering box.
Mother Bev, ancient and withered, rose silently and held up a hand to stop the women. The look she gave them spoke volumes. Let us see. The Sisters stepped away from Nim, some obedient, some offended. They watched Nim like mice watching a cat.
The voices filled Nim’s mind. Her fingers shook on the latches. She undid the last one and pried the box open. Dozens of mirror pieces glinted against the black velvet interior. Nim reached into the chest and took out a wickedly angular piece. Calmly, she drew the edge of the shard across her thumb. Delicate beads of blood welled from the cut. One of the Sisters breathed in sharply. Nim held her hand over the open chest, the drops of blood falling on the shards.
Suddenly, a shaft of blue light exploded from the chest. The Sisters all shaded their eyes, but Nim could not look away. When the light faded away, all that remained in the box were mirror pieces whose edges glowed blue.
Nim looked up and faced the Sisters. In a voice that was both hers and not, she said, “The Mirror of Fate must be restored.”
***
Ian reined in his horse at the mouth of an ominous-looking cave. It was a good horse, sturdy and calm, payment from a farmer whose crops were being eaten by giant rats. The trio had patrolled the field for three days before they got them all. In return, they’d received the choice of the farmer’s small herd. It was probably the best reward they’d ever been given, and the most lasting.
From somewhere the crone had acquired a tired-looking donkey, and now she rode it up between their horses to the cavern’s entrance. The woman’s wide bulk hung over the sides of the little donkey. She leaned on the pommel of the pony saddle she’d draped over its back and gestured to the cave. “Here you will find the beast. And here I will leave you.”
Ian hesitated. “What is the beast? It’s not a dragon, is it?”
She cackled in a way that did not settle anyone’s nerves. “That I do not know. None have seen it in my lifetime. But go inside and you will hear its roar.”
“Oh, good.” Ian dismounted and tied his horse to a tree. The others followed suit.
Ariana unslung her crossbow and tied it to a loop on her saddlebags. She unsheathed her short sword and examined the cave mouth. “It’ll be close quarters in there.”
Ian checked his sword and daggers in their sheathes. “Right. Let’s get to it.”
He led the two women into the cave. Sienna spoke a few words into her up-stretched palms and little yellow globes of light hovered around the trio, illuminating the darkness. The cavern walls were composed of a rough red rock and the tunnel seemed to stretch for a mile or more into the dark. They walked cautiously, weapons at the ready.
After a while, Ian began to have doubts. The cave looked like any other. There were no signs of habitation that Ian could see. Perhaps the old woman had tricked them. He felt foolish. He scanned the others’ faces. They looked to be having the same thoughts. He signalled for the three of them to stop and turned toward the entrance. “Maybe this was a mistake…”
A blood-curdling roar pierced the air behind Ian’s back. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The trio looked at one another, each daring the other two to move first. Finally, Ariana pushed past Ian. With a shrug, Ian and Sienna pressed on.
The globes of light expanded as they entered a large chamber, but they were hardly needed. The walls of the cavern were covered with a bioluminescent moss. The room looked like the ruins of some long gone fortress. There were decaying marble columns and arches that had once been decorated with frescoes that were now all chipped away. The floor was a dusty mosaic. What caught the group’s attention was the gold. There were piles of it, coins, bars, household objects, all over the room. Brass-bound chests sat on mounds of gold coins and jewels. Strangely-garbed statues held glittering sceptres. Ian wandered the chamber, awestruck. He was almost in tears. “We’re rich, we’re rich,” he muttered.
“Ian.” The women were looking at something behind him.
He ignored them, lost in fantasies. “No, we won’t be able to carry it all. We’ll just have to fill the bags with as much as possible.” He snapped his fingers. “Maybe we could construct some sort of magical barrier that only we could cross.”
“Ian!” Ariana and Sienna were pointing now, their eyes wide. He followed their gaze.
A creature of nightmare was perched atop a large heap of gold. It had a lion’s head on a green scaly body like a crocodile’s and a long tail like a snake’s. It had red eyes and steam issued from its nostrils as it snorted at them. It crushed a giant handful of gold in one of its pointed claws.
***
Nim worked on the puzzle of the Mirror until her hands ached and beyond. She worked as if she was in a trance. Tall, slender, raven-haired Sister Anari watched over her. She fed her and cleaned her. Nim could not sleep and did not eat unless helped. She was only dimly aware of these ministrations or even of the room around her. From somewhere she had found a dark brown frame, and she was entirely focused on the task of fitting the glowing shards together. Her hands were cut and chafed. The Mirror was all.
Occasionally, one or more of the Sisters would enter the chamber and try to stop her. Anari would stare them down until they slunk out angrily. “She’s mad!” some would say. Or “This is sacrilege!” And “We will talk to the Mother! She’ll stop this!”
But Mother Bev did nothing of the kind. She preferred to watch and wait. The aged priestess was patient and implacable. Some of the Sisters who visited were respectful, even admiring. They brought offerings of food and stayed to watch. Sister Anari would eventually shoo these out as well when they began to gawk.
Nim paid no attention to these goings-on. The voices were loud in her head. It was a long arduous process fitting the pieces back together. The voices would screech in her ears whenever she picked up the wrong one or paused in thought.
Eventually even Anari came less and less often to check on Nim. And Nim completed the Mirror.
***
Ian leaped backwards, narrowly avoiding a long claw that would have gutted him like a fish. He couldn’t get near the creature; it was not just huge but fast. He backed up, his sword reflexively in front of him. The creature followed more slowly, sensing victory within its grasp. Focused on the beast, he tripped on a gold goblet and fell on his behind. His sword skittered out of his hand.
He looked up as Ariana took a running leap at the beast, sword aimed to thrust at its head. She flew through the air and landed on its back, stabbing at the base of its neck. The creature roared and bucked wildly, trying to shake her off. She clung to the sword embedded in its hide as it swung her about but finally she was launched off, sword and all. Ariana landed in a heap far to the side.
Ian’s heart leaped into his throat. For a split second, he considered going to see if she was all right, but the creature decided for him. He scrambled to his feet as it bore down on him again. It was bleeding now and furious.
Ian turned to Sienna, who had withdrawn as much as possible from the battle. Her eyes were wide. “Make yourself useful!” he called out to her.
Sienna seemed to consider for a moment. Ian dodged another swipe. It was getting closer. Finally, she called back, “Give me one of your daggers!”
Ian rolled to the side and flung a dagger to Sienna. She caught it one-handed. Gingerly, she kissed the blade and spoke some words over it. The blade turned red hot and floated above her hand. She continued chanting. On the last word, the dagger shot away from her hand on a lightning course towards the creature. The dagger buried itself with a satisfying thunk between the eyes of the beast. The beast’s eyes rolled back in its head and it crashed to the ground.
Meanwhile, Ariana woke to find herself with a massive headache and sitting next to a floor-length mirror. She pulled herself to her feet. Could this be the Mirror of Fate? She stood in front of the mirror and saw nothing, not even her reflection. The surface was clouded. Then slowly an image coalesced from the mist, that of a woman kneeling before her and looking right at her. She was perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed in a white robe, and had dark brown hair and darkish skin like Ian’s. Her eyes, however, could have been Ariana’s own. The woman looked at Ariana as curiously as she did at her.
Dimly, Ariana realized that she was no longer aware of her surroundings. In the back of her mind, she knew that she should go back to her friends, but somehow she couldn’t. The Mirror was too interesting. It was as if the world had gone silent around her. Except for the whisper of voices that called to her, beckoned her to stay, to serve them. She couldn’t move.
Ian grabbed Ariana by the shoulders and shook her. The fog lifted from her mind. She looked at him as if just noticing his presence. Sienna examined her face.
“Are you all right?” asked Ian.
She blinked. “I guess so.”
“What did you see?” Sienna glanced at the mirror.
Ariana shivered. “I don’t know.” She picked up a heavy gold vase. “I do know one thing, however. This thing can not be allowed to exist.” With a mighty swing, she smashed the vase into the mirror. The mirror shattered into a million pieces.
A wave of weakness washed over her and she slumped back against Ian. Gently, he gathered her in his arms and smoothed a wisp of hair from her eyes. “Easy, now. You took a bigger blow than you think. It’s over. We won,” he murmured.
Ariana smiled up at him. “Thank you.” Ian blushed.
Sienna sighed and strolled away. “Humans,” she muttered.