The door opened at my touch, swinging inward without me having to turn the knob. We entered, worry for Ash and Casey hurrying our steps. Fear churned my stomach.
Ash had a large mirror in her entryway. I didn’t want to look, but movement drew my eye. Two clowns stared at me, one somewhat taller than the other. I recognized the taller one from before. The shorter clown had a rounder face and slightly more feminine features under the white face paint.
They both smiled, showing pointed teeth. The taller one gestured toward the living room.
The cat hissed, but we all did what they ordered. Tremors wracked my body and my legs felt like jel, making it hard to comply with the clowns.
I knew from many past visits that mirrors lined one wall in her living room, and she had her lyra hung in front of them. The other half of the room contained the normal couch, loveseat, gas fireplace, and coffee table.
Nothing had changed, except Robby sprawled unconscious on the ground in front of the coffee table, and Casey and Ash were bound and gagged on the couch. Ash looked pissed as hell. Terror had widened Casey’s red-puffy eyes, and tears streaked her face.
The two clowns, the man wearing the gray suit, and a shorter, plumper woman also wearing a gray suit stood in front of the fireplace, amused smirks on their faces. The mirror reflected their true natures, and I tried to avoid looking at it while I thought furiously about how I was going to get us out of this.
Maybe if I opened an arch in the mirror, I could drag their reflections through? Of course, first I had to open an arch.
Since I wanted to use the mirror, I moved to place myself in front of it. The lyra spun gently when I bumped it with my shoulder. Wincing, I rubbed the spot.
Geraint stood next to me with Dio still slung over his shoulder, and Nic kneeled by Robby, not bothering to hide his shadowy nature. Casey’s eyes widened further. The cat stalked into the room like it owned the place, tail lashing.
The female clown darted forward, trying to catch it. It turned on her, hissing and unsheathing some truly impressive claws. Turns out, clowns bleed red just like humans do. She shrieked in anger, and the air wavered around us.
“You will leave that with us.” The male clown pointed at Dio. “Then you can leave.”
Nic rose to his feet, the shadows swirling furiously around his feet. “I am a prince of Nightmare. You do not give me commands. You will return with us to Nightmare, and you will be dealt with.”
The clowns laughed.
Nic glanced at me, then at the mirror, before returning his attention to the creatures. The ground rippled as the clowns called on their powers. I let him deal with the clowns for now, while I turned my attention to getting us back to Nightmare.
Casey squealed through her gag, and the ground shifted under my feet. I kept my back to whatever was going on, trusting Nic to defend us to the best of his abilities. Ash also yelled angrily, and I suspected it had more to do with the potential damage to her house than anything.
I pressed my hand to the mirror and touched it with the shadow essence I held, folding it into a sort of gateway with my mind and picturing the cabin in the woods we’d used to get back and forth many times.
A clown appeared in front of me. The woman. Blood dripped from her lips as she bared her sharp teeth and brandished a juggling dagger.
Screaming, I jerked back.
She lunged forward.
I wasn’t fast enough, and hot fire stabbed into my gut. Flailing, I grabbed Ash’s lyra, trying to stop my fall to the ground. All the energy I’d been about to throw at the mirror left me, and pain filled my awareness. Distantly, I heard someone yell my name. Hands gripped me, but I couldn’t think beyond the agony spreading through my body.
Geraint
I’d thought I’d known what being powerless felt like before, when we’d first been taken to Nightmare. That feeling paled compared to the gut-wrenching agony of watching Ember fall to the ground, a blossom of red spreading from her abdomen.
“Nic!” I yelled as I dumped Prince Dio to the ground and clutched Ember to me.
The cat creature screamed in rage and savaged the clown that had injured my spark.
“We have to get back to Dream!” Nic shouted.
“Why?” I snarled. Even I could tell the injury was fatal.
“Because in people’s dreams, healing potions exist,” Nic replied. “I don’t think sharing essence with her will save her from such a wound.”
That was all well and good, but we still had no idea how to get back to the Dream realm.
Ash slammed into my shoulder with her hip. I looked up, eyes going wide. Her lyra spun gently, and inside the hoop of metal the air shone like a mirror. Ember had done it.