Chapter 8

I satcross-legged outside the stone circle in Northbourne's sub-level one, staring at the covered mirror in front of me.

Under my leather jacket, my arms and chest were covered with runes and intricate spellwork, all drawn by me in my blood. Magic hummed on my skin, full of potential energy, waiting to be unleashed. My backpack sat beside me, stuffed with clothing, magic implements, Carly's party favors, money and a few other items provided by the Court, and a picture of Sean and me. Nothing electronic would survive the journey, so I'd left my phone at home.

"You okay?" Malcolm asked. He floated a few feet to my right. At the moment, we were the only people in the room. Valas was on her way from her apartment to see us off. If Vlad was lurking around, neither of us sensed him.

I took a deep breath and let it out. "All I have to do is step through," I said, more to myself than him. "The spellwork is complete. I have everything I'm taking with me. We'll have to figure out the rest once we get there."

"How many times have you mirror-traveled?"

"A couple." I didn't want to provide any details, since the room was no doubt under surveillance. "It's a bumpy ride, even if you're just going next door. This will be my farthest trip." I glanced up at him. "You still have a chance to change your mind and stay."

"Shut up, Alice." He floated back and forth. "We'll be fine. I have complete faith in you."

I smiled wryly. "Thanks."

Malcolm didn't return my smile. His good-bye with Liam hadn't gone much better than their earlier conversation. At least their final words to each other had been kind and not angry. I hated to see him hurting.

He guessed what I was thinking. "Stop blaming yourself," he said testily. "Liam and I will work it out when we get back, or it wasn't meant to be. I'm never going to be content to haunt the bordello, nice and safe from the dangers of the world. I'm an action-adventure ghost. Like you, I want to save lives and make the world a better place than I found it, one fight at a time. So let's go kick it in the ass."

"Wow, that's right up there with King Théoden rallying his soldiers for the big battle in The Return of the King," I said, getting to my feet. "Well done."

"You are such a smart-ass." But he was smiling.

I hadn't heard a door open or close, but suddenly Valas and Matthias emerged from the shadows on the far side of the room. He escorted her to the chair that faced the mirror and took up a position to her right.

Less than twenty-four hours had passed since I'd seen her, but Valas appeared markedly unwell. Though her dress covered her from chin to feet and the long sleeves hid her arms, I spotted a discoloration on the back of her right hand. I couldn't be certain because of the low light, but I thought I saw another near her jaw. Was she decaying? If so, why?

I decided it would be to my advantage to not let on that I'd noticed the marks. Always better to let the other person believe they'd fooled you.

"I'm about ready to leave," I told her. "All the spellwork is complete. I'm just waiting on midnight."

Valas clasped her hands in her lap, her elbows resting on the arms of the chair. The pose hid her discolored hand. "Have you all you need for the journey?"

"I have the basics, yes. I won't know what else I'll need until I get there. Other than what little Adam could tell us about conditions in the Broken World, everything's a big unknown. There'll be a lot of flying by the seat of my pants."

"It is fortunate then that you excel at that form of flight." Her dark gaze met mine. "Time is of the essence. You must retrieve the scroll and return as soon as possible."

"And stop Mariela from invoking the Furies. I get it. I'll hurry." I glanced at my watch—a non-digital, self-winding model I hoped would survive the trip. "Speaking of which, we're T-minus two minutes. Time to get ready."

I pulled the red silk cover from the mirror. I'd already drawn the necessary spellwork on its surface, but had been forced to cover it when the vertigo-inducing reflections made my stomach churn and my skin crawl. Though the glass seemed to show only a reflection of the room, the image was like a chasm: infinitely deep and dark. It pulled at me like a magnet. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to take two steps back.

I hadn't traveled by mirror since leaving my grandfather's compound, and his mirror had been far less powerful than this one. This mirror was very, very old. Judging by the power I sensed radiating from its glass, it had seen many journeys and a lot of blood. That meant I was almost guaranteed to end up at my destination. On the downside, I would probably encounter echoes of past travelers along the way, and those echoes were not likely to let me pass unnoticed or unscathed.

I checked the leather cuffs on my wrists to ensure they were buckled tightly. Each had a half-dozen crystals secured between the layers of leather. Most were healing spells. Two crystals were for Malcolm—one in each cuff. Both were heavily warded to protect him from detection and a wide range of dangers, including the journey.

"Ready to go?" I asked Malcolm. "All aboard the Mirror Express. Next stop, the Broken World."

"Ready as I'll ever be." He grinned. "I'll see you on the other side."

"On the other side," I confirmed. "Contain."

Malcolm vanished. One of the crystals in the cuff on my right wrist buzzed reassuringly with his presence.

I put on my backpack and fastened the straps across my upper chest and around my waist. I checked my watch. Thirty seconds to midnight.

"Ms. Worth." Valas rose, moving a little stiffly. "I wish you a safe journey and a swift return."

"Thanks." I tightened the strap around my waist and bounced to test that the backpack was cinched as tightly as it could be.

I took a deep breath and approached the mirror. The reflection in the glass seemed a mile deep. Vertigo made my stomach lurch.

Ten seconds to midnight.

Based on previous experience, I knew it was best not to bring anything with me in my head. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, clearing my mind and relaxing my shoulders. Just fall, I reminded myself. Just fall, and the spell will do the rest.

I opened my eyes. Midnight exactly. The glass shimmered like the surface of a lake.

With my fingertip, I traced the spellwork I'd drawn in blood on the glass. The humming of the magic on my skin surged until I vibrated with power. The mirror's power rose as well, building to a crescendo along with my own, but the vibrations were discordant. The discomfort made my teeth ache. My chest heaved as breathing became difficult.

Finally, the vibrations synced as the spellwork on my body and my blood magic aligned to match that of the mirror. The sudden lack of pain was almost euphoric.

On the other side of the glass, the chasm yawned. I'd never looked into the mouth of Hell, but I imagined it might look something like this.

Voices whispered just on the edge of my awareness—so many, I couldn't distinguish any one sound. The mirror was full of echoes. This would be one hell of a rough trip.

"Bombs away," I muttered. I pressed my palms against the glass. "Tollat me."

The glass gave way under my hands. I thought the mirror was falling over. By the time I realized it was me who was falling, the spell had me and there was no turning back.

As I slipped through the glass, Valas's voice hissed something in my ear—or maybe in my mind. When her words registered, I raised my hands to stop my fall into the mirror, but there was nothing for me to grab onto and nowhere to go but down, down, down.

A wall of wind that smelled of old earth blasted my face and carried my scream of rage away into the darkness as I fell out of the world.

* * *

I fell and fell.

Formless faces and bodies that were little more than eyes, mouths, and hands clutched and clawed at me as I passed. They screamed in many languages I didn't recognize and a few I did: German, French, maybe Middle English. Every traveler who'd passed through had left an echo of themselves, and the blasted mirror had to be a thousand years old. It was an artifact of enormous power. I wasn't sure what kind of deal Valas had made with Elizabeth of the Chicago Vampire Court to get this mirror, but I had no doubt she'd paid a king's ransom for it. Clearly she'd wanted to make damn sure I made it to the Broken World and back.

The farther down the rabbit hole I went, the darker, angrier, and more solid the echoes became. Streaks of fire on my arms, legs, and back told me they were leaving wounds as I passed. The oldest echoes had become something else entirely—more like shades, and shades were angry and potentially deadly. Instead of passing through them, I hit each one and careened off, only to hit another.

The speed at which I fell was probably the only reason none of them had managed to injure me seriously. If I didn't get to the other side soon, one of the shades was likely to score a serious wound.

My right shoulder erupted in agony. If I screamed, I couldn't hear myself. Another blast of pain, this time in my left thigh. Something laughed.

At this rate, I wasn't going to make it to the other side; the shades would carve me up in transit and I'd come out looking like a broken doll.

Just as I thought that, there were no more shades—only darkness. I barely had a chance to feel relieved before the mirror spat me out on the other side.