Page 115 of The Eternal Mirror
I ignore him and step through the mirror.
And I’m somewhere else. But it feels familiar. I think I’ve dreamed about this place. Maybe I was always meant to come here. I sense the others coming through behind me.
We’re on the crest of a ridge, and below us is the edge of what was once my father’s home. And yup, there are lots of shadows—an impenetrable veil.
Lucifer’s lands.
Or what’s left of them.
It’s not Hell, but it’s not right either.
The ground is cracked like old marble. Silver mist creeps out from the shadows as though trying to engulf us all. Trees twist into each other, bare of leaves. No birds. No wind. Just a faint hum—too deep to hear properly but too strong to ignore.
“Is this it? Hell?” Zayne asks, low.
“It’s not fucking Hell,” I say. “And no, we have to get through those shadows.”
I step forward. The air shifts—heavy, expectant.
“It doesn’t feel evil,” Khaosti says.
I nod. “No. Just...forgotten. Sad.”
We move slowly, the others quiet now. Everyone can feel it—that hush before something breaks. At the base of the ridge, I stop. There’s a wall of lightless shimmer—like shadow turned to silk stitched across the air.
The barrier.
I walk forward but don’t actually move. It’s totally weird. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get any closer.
I consider for a moment, then I draw my sword and make a tiny cut on my thumb. Blood drips onto the ground. It hisses, and the shadows stir restlessly.
“Let me pass where dreams were sown—
The land my mother walked, my father owned.”
The shadows flare—white-gold, then black, then a soft, steady silver.
The barrier shivers.
Then parts.
The curtain of darkness splits down the middle, opening like a slow-blinking eye. Beyond it...mist and silence. Trees warped with starlight. The air shimmers like it’s made of memory.
I step through.
The air is cool against my skin. I glance back. Khaosti is right behind me. Zayne hesitates, then takes a deep breath and steps through the shadows. Josh stirs in his arms, just once, as if something deep inside him recognizes this place, then settles again. Zayne peers around, as though expecting the devil to leap out from behind a bush. When it doesn’t happen, some of the tension seeps from his body.
“This doesn’t look bad for—”
“If you say the H word one more time, I’ll turn you into a goddamn toad,” I snap.
I glance around, deciding which way to go. There’s a faint pathway heading south, and it’s as good a direction as any. I start walking. As we move from the shadows, the air shifts again—lighter now. And there are whispers on the breeze.
Something here remembers me.
And it’s waiting.
It’s as if the darkness has been leached from the place. There’s no sense of evil, but no good either. It’s like a blank page.
