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And at the end of the corridor was the mirror gate.
Scarlett rushed forward, setting her dagger down on a cracked stone table as she went. The same symbols surrounded the mirror, and she again began tracing them with a slight frown.
“You know,” he ventured carefully, “Saylah would likely know of them.”
The frown became pursed lips, her hands coming to her hips. “I know.”
“She is your mother.”
“Eliné was my mother,” Scarlett said sharply.
“I know, Love,” he said, stepping closer. “All I am suggesting is maybe if we were a little more…cooperative, she might be willing to give a little more.”
To his utmost surprise, she murmured, “Maybe.”
She continued inspecting the mirror. For what, he didn’t know, but he watched her pace back and forth in front of it.
He took in the rest of the chamber. There was nothing. It was completely empty save for the table in the center of the room. No other markings. No books like in the chamber beneath the Wind Citadel. He turned back and froze.
Scarlett stood directly in front of the mirror, and someone was on the other side.
It was a male with clean cut brown hair that matched his russet colored eyes. His hands were shoved into the pockets of pants from material Sorin had never seen before. He had a thick wool shirt on and some type of large satchel slung across his chest. The male tilted his head, watching Scarlett curiously as he rocked back on his heels.
“Where are you?” she asked cautiously, bringing her fingertips to the mirror.
The male glanced between them, then shook his head as if to tell her he could not hear her. He lifted the flap on his bag and pulled out some paper. Sorin stepped to her side, and they both watched while he wrote on it.
He held it up in the mirror. There were various lines written, all in languages Sorin did not recognize except for one.
“This one,” Scarlett said, tapping on the one written in the Avonleyan language.
The male looked at which one she’d pointed to, then back at her in surprise. He flipped the paper over, scribbling on the back, before holding it up again.
“What does it say?” Sorin asked, not nearly as proficient in the language yet as Scarlett was.
“He is asking if we are Legacy,” she said with a frown.
She gave him a tentative nod, and he quickly began scribbling on the paper again.
“Which god,” Scarlett read when he held the paper back up.
Looking around helplessly for something to write on, she finally settled for drawing in the air with her starfire. She drew Saylah’s symbol, and confusion passed over the male’s features. But then his attention went to something else wherever he was at. He gave them a small smile with a quick bow before he stepped out of view.
“No! Wait!” Scarlett cried, pressing her palms to the glass.
They waited several minutes in silence before Sorin said gently, “I do not think he is coming back, Love.”
She slammed a palm against the smooth surface. “He knew something. He knew about the mirror gates.”
“We can come back.”
Her brow fell against the glass. “I am running out of time, Sorin.”
“We will figure it out, Scarlett.”
Then they both went rigid. There was a dragging sound. Claws on stone.
Starfire flared, and Scarlett was holding her spirit sword in her hand. Sorin pulled his short swords, and they both scanned the chamber before starting back to the doors.
