Page 37 of Forgotten Monsters
LEGENDS
“Where is your biggest mirror?” Barron asks Deveraux. The multi-story library seems smaller with him in it.
“We have a dedicated room to travel to the nether realm,” the professor answers. “If you’re going through the mists, I’m coming with you.”
Lydia’s eyes dart to the golden clock on her desk every few seconds. “And I’ll stay here, in case Jules returns.”
Deveraux leads us under the main building, beyond the part of the basement that is used for Ancient Arts studies, a graduate-level class. A door with a triangular keyhole waits for us there. She picks the key out of the tight bun at the nape of her neck and twists it into the lock.
The door creaks open, revealing a…ballet studio? A horizontal bar runs the length of the room, its four walls completely covered with mirrors. The glossy white linoleum enhances the illusion of walking into an endless dream.
I narrow my eyes at the modern set-up, the sleek interior giving me major Magisterium vibes. “I feel like I should have worn my ballet slippers. Is this a portal?”
Barron snickers. “Not yet.”
Deveraux arches a brow. “You’re not wrong. This room doubled as a dance studio for a while.”
The electrical light fixtures along the walls burst to life, and a dark, bluish light seeps through the air.
Barron slides a wavey dagger out of his belt and carves a deep cut into his palm.
He smudges the thumb from the opposite hand in his blood and walks to the reflective glass. With confident strokes, he draws a large circle on the mirror, then splits it in four equally-sized quarters, the pattern slowly forming a Celtic knot, the mesmerizing lines interwoven with each other.
When it’s done, he takes a step back and contemplates his work. Black ink spreads over his right hand as he raises it to the drawing.
“Hriga dyrr.”
The now liquid surface of the mirror undulates, the mercury-like drops floating in mid-air, stretching and rearranging, ignoring the earthly laws of physics and fluid dynamics.
The Underworld tear didn’t emit any sound, but I can hear a thousand tiny, discrete bells chime through the mirror. They…whisper to me—a promise and a warning.
Barron kicks off his shoes and motions for us to do the same. Deveraux had already unlaced her boots, so I quickly slip out of mine.
“After you,” he says to Deveraux.
With a grumble, I close the march.
Instead of a cold sting, the portal coats my face and arms. A solid wave of silver washes over us until we emerge on the other side.
Heavy mists stick to the air, erasing most of my surroundings from view, including my companions. I can see my hands, but not much else.
“Professor?” I call out to the white void.
“Over here, Allison,” Deveraux answers.
I cough out a wave of humidity and join her and Barron a few paces to my left.
Deveraux mutters an incantation under her breath, and sunshine pierces the shadows.
The patches of mist condense. Suspended droplets pepper my shoulders as Deveraux and Barron’s silhouettes slice through the fog. A thin layer of water splashes between my bare toes, separating the warm sunbeams in colorful rainbows, and I gaze down at my reflection.
I squint, hints of the ballet studio visible below my feet, as though we’re actually standingoverthe mirror we just walkedthrough.
My brain strains to grasp the physics of the magic, and my reflection in the water spooks me. A bright yellow aura shines like a halo around my head—incredibly distracting and beautiful at the same time.
I gasp as Mallory’s naked frame appears at the corner of my eyes. “Mal?”
She looks down at her hands, her breasts covered by her thick curls. “I’m me. How is that possible?”
