The Mirror
The SUV seemed to gallop up the winding road to High Reach. Valerius could see snippets of buildings and the sky through the window as the car bounced on the asphalt that wasn’t so smooth at these speeds.
“So what’s the plan? What’s the damned plan?” Illarion demanded.
He was in the back seat with Illarion, Caden and Esme. Ironically, Illarion was stuffed in the middle.
“The mirror,” Mei said from the front passenger seat.
Jahara was driving. Like a mad woman no less. The other Dragon Shifters and Claw were following in SUVs behind them. They were driving up the winding roads to High Reach.
“The mirror?” Illarion’s forehead puckered in confusion.
“When we were all in the throne room,” Esme answered, adjusting her dress that was bunched up against the door and window. “Don’t you remember how all our Dragon Spirits were together in the same lair when we looked into the mirror?”
“That… oh,” Illarion said, his forehead smoothing out as understanding filled him.
“Clearly, the mirror transports our Spirits from their lairs to Raziel’s,” Jahara replied.
“And if we go to the mirror again that means our Spirits will be as close as possible to the crater thus giving them the chance to destroy the Behemoth and save Raziel, Iolaire and Caden,” Mei finished.
“So we’re going to be like him?” Illarion tilted his head towards Valerius.
Valerius would have made a smart remark in response that not even on Illarion’s best day could he be like Valerius, but he was too weak to even form the words. He grimaced and tightened his hold on Caden’s body. There was no response from his beloved. Despair nibbled at him.
No, we’re almost to the mirror. We’re getting help to you, my love. Just hold on a little longer, Caden.
“We will be mortal and human again. For a time.” Mei tugged at her collar, belying the calmness of her voice and words. “Our Spirits will make quick work of the Behemoth. In the Spirit Realm they don’t need to worry about any explosions the destruction of that beast may cause.”
“True. That does fix that problem,” Esme said with a nod.
“We’ll be mortal. We can be hurt. We can die. Valerius has been like a doll losing his sand ever since Raziel left him,” Illarion reminded them. He looked over at Valerius’ faintly scowling face. “No offence! But you have been a maiden in my arms twice tonight.”
“Are you afraid of being human and mortal again, Illarion? It might be good for you. To remind you that you’re not all that,” Esme joked.
“You are an old woman. You could have a heart attack the moment that Scylla leaves you!” Illarion growled.
Valerius actually let out a soft laugh and managed to whisper, “Esme will outlive us all, Illarion.”
“Oh, you’re not dead! What a relief!” Illarion rolled his eyes.
“Not yet. Not ever. It’s a good plan, Mei,” Valerius said, making his voice stronger.
She gave him a brief smile and nod.
“Where the hell did that mirror come from? Why can it do this?” Illarion asked. “You’ve always been so cagey about it. I think now is a good time to tell us since we’re trusting it with our lives.”
There was silence. It was something he had never explained to them. Something he had kept secret though he did not understand it fully himself. Would he tell them now? Would he keep his secret? Or would he reveal to them all he did know and open his life a little?
“Raziel led me to it the first year we were one,” Valerius answered, his gaze going distant as he remembered. “It came from strange sand that was not created near the water, but at the top of a mountain that I have never seen since.”
The silence was different now. Admitting this to them, bringing them into the secret, felt right. They felt closer. Illarion patted his arm.
“Maybe from the Spirit Realm?” Jahara murmured. “Perhaps that’s where the mountain is and the sand came from there?”
“Mountains do not disappear unless you are far older than you are letting on,” Illarion pointed out. “So the Spirit Realm sounds possible.”
“Yes, perhaps that is so,” Valerius agreed.
