Page 4 of The Dark Mirror

For the second time, I checked the golden cord. Even knowing Arcturus had betrayed me, it was disconcerting not to feel it answer to my touch.

I must have nodded off. Next thing I knew, the driver was clearing his throat above me, startling me awake.

‘End of the line.’

With a nod, I sat up. It was unlike me to fall asleep in such a fraught situation. ‘Thank you.’

I drew my bag on to my shoulder and stepped off the coach. At first glance, this seemed to be a smaller city than the last, though certainly a city, from the number of dreamscapes.

That escape had been lucky. From here on out, I had to be more careful, but it would be hard. I knew how to orient myself in Scion. I could work out where to go and who was probably safe to approach. In the free world, I was clueless. Worse still, I had no allies.

This felt like the longest day of my life, and I could only have been awake for a grand total of an hour.

The night was mild, almost warm. I passed some kind of bar, where people laughed and drank and ate beneath outdoor umbrellas. Across the street, a lone voyant sat on a bench, studying a phone. I paused, then kept walking.

Until I knew more about voyants in the free world, it might be wise to approach an amaurotic, someone unable to sense what I was. For all I knew, voyants here would hand me over to the authorities as quickly as anyone else. This man might not evenknow he was a binder. Had he ever learned why his skin itched? Had he asked his doctor time and time again, to no avail?

At least I had the tool I needed to perform an emergency invocation. I found a doorway, out of sight, where I sparked the lighter, creating a numen. The nearest spirits perked up.

‘I call the itinerant dead of this place,’ I whispered. A ghost detached itself from a house and drifted to me. ‘I need to reach my friends. Can you take me to anyone who can help?’

The ghost rang with agreement. It must have spoken English while it had been embodied. I shadowed it to a row of pastel buildings in a square, lined up like cakes with fondant icing. Intricate white art decorated two of their façades, giving a false impression of chalk, until you saw the shadow and realised it was plaster. My guide slid through the door of a green building, and I followed.

Inside, people sat at round tables, working or talking over drinks, some with paperwork and books in front of them, or laptops illuminating their faces. Behind the bar, a lean amaurotic was concentrating on making a drink, dark curls falling over his forehead.

‘Dobry wieczór,’ he said, without looking up.

The ghost circled him twice. I gave it a nod of acknowledgement, and it disappeared through the wall.

‘Hi,’ I said to the bartender. ‘Would you happen to speak any English or French?’

‘English, yes.’ He turned to face me, setting the glass on a wooden tray. ‘What can I get you?’

‘I was hoping you could tell me where I am. I think I got on the wrong bus.’

‘It happens,’ he said mildly. ‘This is Legnica.’

‘Right.’ I was none the wiser. ‘And where is that?’

He glanced at me over brow-line spectacles, taking in my bag and hiking boots. ‘You are very lost,’ he remarked. ‘Legnica is west of Wroclaw. Is that where you took the bus?’

‘Yes,’ I said, with all the unwarranted confidence in the world. At this point, I decided to sacrifice all subtlety: ‘This is going to sound ridiculous, but what country are we in, please?’

‘Are you joking?’

‘Humour me.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Poland,’ he said, clearly expecting a punchline. ‘In … Europe.’

All I could do, for a moment, was stare at him.

‘Poland,’ I repeated.

‘Yes.’ He drummed his fingers. ‘From your expression, this is not where you are meant to be.’

For the life of me, I could not understand this. My knowledge of the free world was threadbare, stitched together from old maps and forbidden conversations, but I was certain Poland was nowhere near France. I could be hundreds of miles away from anyone I knew.

‘One more question, if you’ll indulge me,’ I said to the bartender, who gave me a slow nod. ‘Do you know anyone who tells fortunes, claims they can talk to spirits, that sort of thing?’

---