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20/3/513
They’d gone too long without something to eat, and the party’s motivation to continue was flagging. Senshi could tell they wanted to stop, but if they rested without eating something then their energy wouldn’t properly replenish. In this part of the fourth floor, it was rare to encounter proper monsters: it was all magical rubbish, ghosts and zombies and magic pictures. Nothing a body could sink their teeth into.
“Everyone, I think there’s something edible in here,” Falin called out.
Several backpacks were sitting in the centre of a room, to the side of the hall they’d been passing through. There wasn’t any sign of people. Whoever had been here had been part-way through cooking something, but it had been abandoned and left to rot, and the packs were beginning to accumulate dust. Senshi crouched down to rummage through them, hoping they contained some preserved vegetables, however unlikely that was.
“Whoa, another wiped out party? But where are their bodies?” Chilchuck said.
“Perhaps the corpse retrievers already got here,” Shuro suggested.
“And left their stuff?” the elf girl scoffed. “Not likely. Maybe they cast a return spell, like us. Though spellcasters who can use teleportation magic are pretty rare… and those who can do it legally are even rarer…”
Falin laughed awkwardly.
The packs had salted pork, hard cheese with rind, rye biscuits, and a jar of pickled cabbage. Senshi was impressed; pickles would go a little way to bulking out the unbalanced diet most adventurers ate. It was still far from ideal… but it would get them to the next monster they could hunt.
“I don’t like not knowing what happened to the people who owned these,” Chilchuck said. “And what’s with these creepy mirrors?”
Maybe they could use the last of the bread and make some croque monsieur? If only Zon hadn’t insisted on taking all their vegetables.
“That’s not true!” Shuro shouted.
Senshi looked up in surprise at such an outburst from the usually quiet tall-man. He was staring into one of the tall mirrors leaning innocuously against the right wall of the room.
In fact, all the rest of the group were looking at themselves in those mirrors.
Senshi shook his head; his lifestyle didn’t really lend itself to worrying about appearances, so he didn’t get the appeal. None of them were reacting to Shuro’s yell, so Senshi was about to conclude he’d missed something and start cooking.
“Falin! Laios! Wait!”
Shuro had already been leaning forward. He thrust a reaching hand into the mirror. It rippled, parting around his hand like water. Within seconds, he was head-and-shoulders deep in it.
Chilchuck and Marcille were both sinking into their mirrors as well. Chilchuck’s small body had almost disappeared, the silvered surface of the mirror shifting and grasping him like a pair of embracing arms.
Senshi ran over and grabbed his muffler, pulling him back out. The kid’s expression was uncharacteristically vulnerable, but as his eyes cleared, they filled with confusion. “Senshi? Where’s —“
“The mirror was sucking you in — it’s a monster!” Senshi said.
Chilchuck’s mouth fell open, his small face flushing. Then his eyes widened, and he looked around. He cried, “Marcille, Falin! And where’s Shuro?!”
The tall-man had entirely disappeared. The elf was most of the way there. Falin’s arm and leg were enveloped, and her face, inches from its reflection, showed no reaction to her name being shouted. Eerie blue light had gathered behind her shoulders, frost forming on her hair, invisible hands tugging at her clothes and pulling her back.
19/3/513
Shuro knocked the lion-headed living armour down, as elegant and powerful as ever. Falin maintained the barrier preventing the armour’s comrades from approaching, while Marcille blasted them with explosions. If Namari’d been there, knocking them over like dolls with her axe, it would’ve almost been exactly like every other fight they’d been in as a party. Except for how much less at home Falin felt in the dungeon without her brother.
“Through the door, guys, hurry up!” Chilchuck snapped. He was holding one of the double doors open, but it looked a bit too heavy for him. As the others passed through, Falin stayed in the rear, sweating a little with effort as she kept her spell going. Once they were all through, Senshi and Marcille slammed the doors, and Senshi braced himself to hold them shut. Falin released her spell with a sigh.
Shuro had knocked away the golden armour’s weapon, as well as its head; but surprisingly, what it scrambled for was the shield, which had spun across the floor and stopped at Falin’s feet. As it stumbled towards her, Shuro knocked it down, pressing it to the floor with a foot.
“What’s wrong with these living armour?” Marcille said. “They should follow whatever instructions the caster animating them gave, but they don’t seem to be protecting anyone. Are they supposed to stop us progressing? They never did that before.”
Laios would know, Falin thought morosely. After their first death, he’d started sharing living armour facts constantly. Falin had just wanted to forget what had happened, so she hadn’t really appreciated it at the time, but that was just who he was. It was actually a very admirable way to deal with fear.
When they’d been just starting out, with that band of gold-peelers, even going this far down had been too dangerous for them; it was pretty nostalgic to think of now. Some of the people had been nice: that was how they’d met Dandan, the half-foot who’d introduced them to Chilchuck.
Honestly, Falin didn’t really remember that first death. She’d been anxious, but excited, a bubbling nervous giddiness that she had been realising the dungeon caused in her. A space full of strange creatures, wild and untamed, following a different set of rules from the surface world. It wasn’t rational, but she felt sometimes that this was the first place where she and Laios had actually belonged.
Seeing Laios stabbed clean through, the blood, his shocked expression, was all still clear in her memory. She hadn’t been used to it yet, the way the dungeon could trap the soul. Only halfway onto her feet from where he’d pushed her out of the way of a blow, she had felt the spirit cleave from his flesh. The sight of the sword in his chest had been nowhere near as awful as feeling that. Knowing, instinctually, that he was gone.
Then she’d seen the chains wrap around his ghost. Torn — and she was still torn — between horror and gratitude, she hadn’t even felt the sword sever her neck.
At least, not that she could remember.
When Laios had gotten his first full suit of armour, she’d had a nightmare that he’d been trapped inside it, puppeteered by the metal, forced to chase her down while he screamed for her to run. Naturally, she’d kept that to herself. But it’d been a long time, and she was pretty comfortable with them now.
Falin picked up the shield, concealing a gasp as she examined it. An egg sac! They were protecting it — did that mean living armour really were living after all?
She really wanted to show it to Laios…
“We should get going,” Chilchuck said. “Senshi won’t be able to hold the door forever.”
“Aye,” Senshi wheezed. “They’re persistent.”
Falin’s backpack currently contained a length of cloth, which she had used to wrap up a collection of interesting rocks and seashells. There was also a mystery cocoon which she was waiting to see hatch. Sorry , she thought, unwrapping the cloth and letting the treasures fall, loose, into her pack. She tied it in a band around the shield, covering the eggs.
“Falin, why are you still carrying that shield?” Marcille asked, suspicion in her voice.
“The wings are cool, right?” Falin said. “I thought since we’re down a fighter, and I already have a mace, I could pick up some of the slack!”
“You’re a cleric, Falin! It’s not a mace, it’s your staff!”
“Falin, I can handle it, you don’t need to put yourself at risk,” Shuro said, stolidly.
“I won’t be. I’ve got my protection magic, and even the shield. You can rely on me,” Falin promised. She’d meant it as an excuse, but the more she said, the more she felt it made sense. She wasn’t as strong as Laios, and she didn’t have his training in melee fighting, but she could hit things with her staff — she did that all the time!
Shuro shook his head with a smile.
If it was just Shuro, I bet I could talk him into letting me keep the eggs, Falin thought. Shuro liked bugs, after all. And… he also liked her, apparently. But there’s no way Marcille would allow it, and he wouldn’t argue with both her and Chilchuck.
Marcille continued to worry and nag all the way until they reached the third floor. As they made camp, Falin made sure to place the shield eggs-down, but didn’t hover over it. It was just like when she and Laios had hidden frogspawn in a bucket in their bedroom: you couldn’t be seen to be too worried about someone looking under the bed, or you’d be caught and made to pour them back into the local pond. Luckily, nobody looked too closely at the shield that night.
20/3/513
The next day, they got to Senshi’s base. It was a super cool tent, and he even had a vegetable farm made of golems!
When Falin had learned how to make golems, she’d thought about how useful they would be back home. They could tend goats, plough fields, do all sorts of work for the village. If you could plant vegetables on them, that would be even more useful.
As a child, she’d imagined showing everybody how magic could help them, make their lives easier, and being accepted and celebrated. But, truthfully, she wasn’t naive enough to think it would go that well.
While Falin sat, cubing potatoes, Senshi got his flint out and set up the fire.
“I can use magic to light it,” Marcille suggested. She always needs to feel useful , Falin thought, smiling to herself.
“No need,” Senshi rejected.
“It’d be much more convenient. You just said the golems are convenient! They’re magic too!”
“No, it wouldn’t be convenient,” Senshi said. “It’d be easy . If you use magic to light the fire, my skills will get rusty. Then when I need them, and you aren’t there, I’ll be in trouble.”
That was true. If the golems tilled the fields, and harvested the crops, and watched the goats, maybe the people would lose some of the skills needed to maintain their livelihoods. Falin had spent a lot of time contemplating the reasons why people disliked magic, but that was one she hadn’t considered.
“You don’t like magic because it’s too easy, Senshi?” she asked.
He hesitated, looking between her and Marcille. “It’s not natural,” he finally said. That was more the kind of reasoning she expected. But she was surprised to hear it from someone who lived in a place so full of magical energy.
She kept thinking about it after that. Senshi chose to live in the dungeon, looking after it, eating magical creatures. It was strange to do all that and still dislike magic. As she gathered up their harvested veggies after their meal, Falin ventured a potential explanation, asking Marcille: “Do you think Senshi’s family also disliked magic?”
After giving her a look of sympathy that made her stomach curdle, Marcille replied, “Well… dwarfs don’t have a lot of magical energy, so it’s rare for them to use magic. If he comes from somewhere without a lot of cultural diversity, it might be an inherited prejudice, you’re right.”
It was obvious that Senshi valued the natural world very highly. But in the dungeon, the natural state of the world was magical. The deeper you got, the more the energy permeated the air, and the animals and plants were acclimated to it like cave-dwelling critters to the dark.
Magic was normal here. It was the humans from the surface who were abnormal. Maybe that was why Senshi didn’t behave like the other people Falin had known with prejudices against magic. He might not realise it, but he was acclimated to magic too.
15/6/503
Dear Falin,
That field trip you went on sounds fun! Your teacher must be stupid, you definitely know much more about foraging than she does. Be careful with mushrooms, though. I read that many species of edible mushroom are similar-looking to others that are poisonous. If you get sick and die from eating a mushroom then I’ll beat you up. You’ve got to come and see the world with me, remember! We’ll leave all the stuffy idiots at these schools behind.
Speaking of people who AREN’T idiots, I’m glad your friend was able to help you with your homework. I’m no good at schoolwork, at least if it’s not to do with monsters or animals. I do alright with the horses for example. One of my classmates even said I’d make a good hostler if the soldiering doesn’t work out.
I’m keeping busy: the librarian got some new books on monsters that I haven’t read before. One’s all about different types of walking mushrooms. I haven’t finished it yet, but it’s really good. I wonder if your school has it? Your library is a lot bigger, isn’t it? (I’m jealous!) It’s called ‘An introduction to magic energy adaptations in walking mushrooms’ by M. Herte.
FUN FACT: Did you know that some walking mushrooms emit parasitic spores???
Yours with love,
Laios
2/10/503
Dear Falin,
It’s so annoying waiting for a merchant heading your way so I can send these! I really want to ask for your advice, but you won’t see this in time, let alone be able to get a reply back to me. Mrs Yorna, who is the doctor here and also teaches Natural Science, has suggested that I could Study Monsters at a University. She studied on the Eastern Continent, in Dozahk. I looked it up on a map and it looks quite close to where you are!!
Apparently they don’t teach just about monsters. I’d need to study general Magic (not likely! I’m not going to copy you) or Natural Science and then specialise. I’d also need get my marks up... And I don’t know if Father would pay for it, since it would probably cost even more than this school. But imagine me as a real monster scholar! Maybe I could meet Herte and tell him how amazing his books are.
I don’t know if I’m smart enough but it’s a fun idea. If I want to do it I would need to ask to take extra classes right away and probably study another language in my free time, and I have a hard enough time keeping up as it is.
What do you think I should do? I’ll pretend you’ve replied: you would say that I’m super smart and you believe I can do it, because you’re the best sister!
Yours in indecision,
Laios
13/3/504
Dear Falin,
Herrier is having puppies!!! She’s one of the bitches that stay in the school year-round rather than travelling with the army, because she’s got a good bloodline and they want her to breed. She’s a lymehound like Muimui, but with a darker coat. I’ve included a drawing of her I did.
The master of hounds, Sergeant Musse, said I can name one of her puppies once they’re born if I stop skipping practice to play with the dogs. He’s really nice and way more patient than the master of arms, which makes sense. I’d be much more patient if I could look after dogs all day rather than practising with swords and pikes and axes!
What do you think are some good dog names? Right now I think ‘Selia’ would be cute, short for ‘Baraselia’, which is the scientific name for a type of man-eating plant!
FUN FACT: In a pinch, the sticky fluid that the plant secretes to catch prey can be used to seal up wounds!
Of course, I wouldn’t need that if you were there. Your skills are so amazing!! I can’t believe you’re learning how to reattach limbs. You said you can numb the area so that it doesn’t hurt, right? If you did that while using healing magic on something like a frog (maybe even a GIANT FROG!), we could perform a live vivisection without even hurting it. Wouldn’t that be cool? We could see the heart beating!!
If the puppies are born before I find someone who can take my letters then I’ll include a drawing of them too.
Your brother,
Laios
21/07/504
Dear Falin,
You asked about Finn, but I don’t have any news. I don’t think we’re friends anymore. I said something wrong (like I do) though I don’t know what. It’s no big deal! I’ve got your letters, and Herrier and Selia, and Mrs Yorna, and the Dungeon Gourmet Guide. You’re the only friend I need.
I’m glad you’ve got someone looking out for you, though. If I was there I’d use my awesome soldier-ing skills to beat those girls up for treating you that way, but getting them in trouble with the teachers is OK too, I guess. Your friend had the right idea.
I don’t think you’re weird for spending time in the graveyard. You’re just practicing your skills for when you’re a travelling exorcist! Ghosts are the most boring monster (sorry!) so I’ll be leaving them all to you to take care of. That means you’ve got to be good.
I’m still so jealous you can visit slimes whenever you want. I wish I could find a natural dungeon around here. I’ve looked but I can’t just skip class whenever I want like you can, they’re really strict about it here and they hit way harder than Father when you’re in trouble. The drawings you sent are really good but it’s just not the same as seeing them in person. But don’t let that stop you from sending more!
Yours in jealousy,
Laios
20/3/513
The treasure bugs had been a really fun meal, but hours later, Falin was hungry and getting hungrier. She wouldn’t let anyone know, but the addition of the shield to her load wasn’t helping. It’s nothing compared to how hungry I was when we fought the dragon, Falin thought, trying to make herself feel better. She sighed.
As Chilchuck unlocked a door, Falin felt a cool brush of air on her neck and smiled. Perhaps because of the higher concentration of magic, the further down you went, the more that ghosts seemed to retain of their sanity. The ghosts on this floor were still quite confused, and would be dangerous to the others if she hadn’t already warded them. But she had warded them, and so she could let herself be excited.
It was weird. Falin didn’t always have the best sense of what was and wasn’t weird to other people, but she knew that this would definitely qualify. Even Laios didn’t really get it. The first ghost they’d encountered had nearly killed him, and Falin suspected he saw it as the cause of the community’s sudden and frightening turn against them.
In that graveyard, she had been frightened, too. Feeling the air beginning to chill, she had known something bad was coming. A little dread wasn’t enough to stop her from following Laios, though, now or then.
That moment, when he’d nearly been possessed, was the first time Falin had realised he was fallible — fragile — mortal. And she — young and weak little girl that she was, who even the dogs could bully — had saved him. Saved him and the dead man both.
So even after everyone else turned their face away from her when she tried to speak to them, she’d known that strength was inside her, cocooned like a larva.
The bodily sensation of a spectral presence was still spine-tingling. But Falin had learned to understand ghosts: had spent more time around them than she had most of her classmates except for Marcille. That was already something that most people found morbid, if not outright gross. They really wouldn’t like it if she told them that she enjoyed that feeling of her skin prickling, hair standing on end; liked the way she understood the dead’s feelings and fears the way she never could with a living person. The regrets, the frustrated desires, the longing… it was really beautiful. There wasn’t a person dead, no matter how unpleasant they might have been in life, who Falin wouldn’t feel some affection for.
Even corpses, zombies, and skeletons were lovable to her. The way that what had once been living creatures broke down, returning to component parts, becoming part of the rest of the world again. The ghosts trying to hold onto their individuality were kind of cute in a sad way, struggling against the current; puppeteering their bodies, slowly breaking down and returning their magic to circulating freely just like their flesh. They made her feel keenly that she was part of something, the always moving, always decaying and growing, wide and wonderful world.
The ghost she sensed right now was an old one. She felt his desire in her throat like an apple-seed, small and tight. He didn’t remember his name, or much of his life before, but he remembered sunshine, and wanted it even more for knowing it would break his fragile soul down into tatters. The warm flesh of a living person would satisfy that desire, or so he felt — though Falin knew it wouldn’t — but her wards gently discouraged that, making the group feel to him like cool and impermeable stone. Most common ghosts wards were more violent, repelling or even dispelling ghosts who got too close… but Falin preferred to be gentle, since she would feel the ghost’s discomfort at that rough approach.
As their consciousnesses intermingled at the edges, Falin felt the ghost notice her hunger. She didn’t have to let him in, but she liked to; she liked the feeling of joy that rippled through him at the new-old bodily sensation. His disjointed gratitude flickered into a sense of purpose; he thought of food, of rooms and corridors, of following and leading . Falin was experienced enough to translate these fragments of thoughts into a message.
Falin followed the man through the door Chilchuck had unlocked, walking with the rest of the group into a hall full of portraits. She split off after her spectral guide, and through a side door, there was a room that seemed to be for storage, with cabinets, shelves, and a bunch of free-standing mirrors.
In the centre of the floor were some backpacks, set down next to a makeshift cooking fire that had long gone out. It had a pot on it, and the stew that had been cooking was congealed and blueing. But there might be supplies in the packs that were still good.
“Everyone, I think there’s something edible in here,” Falin called out.
The others hurried over, and as Senshi beelined to the packs, Chilchuck hung back. “Whoa, another wiped out party? But where are their bodies?” he said, nervously.
“Perhaps the corpse retrievers already got here,” Shuro offered.
“And left their stuff? Not likely,” Marcille said. “Maybe they cast a return spell, like us. Though spellcasters who can use teleportation magic are pretty rare… and those who can do it legally are even rarer…”
Falin felt her disapproving gaze on her back, and laughed nervously. She regretted casting that return spell very badly, but its legality had nothing to do with that. Though, that was just how Marcille was. Despite how old she was and how much Falin respected her, her nervousness about things like this seemed increasingly… childish, the longer they were out of school. It wasn’t like Marcille really cared about the rules, either, or so it appeared to Falin — there was just a part of her that always seemed to worry that a teacher was going to jump out behind a bush or a wall and ask her to explain why she hadn’t done her homework. Though Marcille had always done her homework. … Maybe that was the problem. If she ever hadn’t, she’d have realised that it really wasn’t that big of a deal.
“I don’t like not knowing what happened to the people who owned these,” Chilchuck continued to complain, nervously. “And what’s with these creepy mirrors?”
Falin didn’t think the mirrors were that creepy. The elaborate designs on the frame were kind of pretty, and they were much clearer and bigger than the small bronze mirror that Laios used to shave. She didn’t look into it very often, so seeing herself was kind of a novelty. She took a few steps closer, the image coming into greater clarity. The woman reflected didn’t look much like how Falin pictured herself, which was much more like a mirror of Laios — instead, the reflection was all soft curves, without his jawline, her robes smoothing out the edges of her body. The disconnect she felt was so strong, she didn’t immediately notice how odd it was when the reflection smiled at her.
Her soft round face lost some of its roundness, her hair growing shorter. Falin was transfixed. She blinked, and the figure was wearing Laios’ armour. She blinked again, and it wasn’t her at all anymore, but Laios looking back at her in the mirror.
He smiled at her, his genuine smile, toothy and sweet. Falin felt missing him rise up from her stomach like bile, felt ill with her fear for him and for herself without him.
He didn’t seem to be in the room with her and the others, even in the reflection of it. Behind him, she saw… what looked like Senshi’s home base, the patchwork tent and stone walls she’d seen so recently. Could someone else have gotten there before them, killed the dragon, and brought him back? The possibility seemed slim, but…
Laios looked like it’d been much more than a day or two since she’d seen him, though. He had a rough beard, and his hair had grown out by a few inches. He wasn’t thin in the way she’d expect from a resurrection, either.
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
Falin nodded, her throat still tight with emotion. She still didn’t know what was happening, and couldn’t find the words to ask.
“I can’t wait to tell you all about the monsters I’ve eaten,” Laios said. “Senshi and I hunted a basilisk, and it tasted just like the Dungeon Gourmet Guide said!”
He described the flavour and texture in detail. It really did sound just like him. The mirror wasn’t showing anything real, right now, Falin admitted to herself — of course it wasn’t. She’d just wanted to hope. Could it be the future? This did seem incredibly Laios-like. She’d thought he’d like to learn from Senshi, and that thought motivated her to get to him, to save him, so the two could meet. But why did it sound like…
“—have you been? How’s Marcille?” Laios asked.
… like they weren’t travelling together anymore?
“I’m happy living in the dungeon,” he said, looking down. “This is the place where I belong, more than anywhere else. But I’m glad you told me the truth, because you’re different. I don’t want you to force yourself to follow me everywhere… you deserve to be your own person, Falin.”
Falin felt like she’d been smacked.
Wasn’t exploring the dungeon something they did together ? Something both of them shared? Just because Laios loved monsters first, knew more about them — just because Falin had one friend — didn’t change anything. Falin wasn’t different. They were the same! She wasn’t forcing herself to do anything.
“What truth?” she whispered.
“That you want to leave me behind,” Laios said, smiling sadly. “You want to see the mountains and the desert, all sorts of far away cities… you want to see our parents again. We were supposed to go together, I know. I’m the one who let you down.” Hearing a clank, she looked down, and saw ghostly chains encircling his feet. “I’m tired of living among humans. I want to stay here. When I die, I’ll be a monster… even if spirits are my least favourite kind. I’ll be eaten by monsters. I’ll be part of this dungeon forever.”
Every word hit Falin, blow after blow. It wasn’t Laios — it couldn’t be. He would never say something like this. He didn’t know, couldn’t know — she couldn’t let him know — the idea alone filled her with exhilarant fear and sick relief.
Laios wasn’t in Senshi’s lean-to anymore. He was standing on the stairs that led into the dungeon. He was turning away from her.
“Wait, Laios!” If he went on alone, anything could happen — he could die again — Falin could still picture him after their separation, ragged and skinny and flea-bitten, depressed and listless, needing her. Didn’t he still? That was why she had to stay, wasn’t it?
The dungeon was amazing, but there was the whole world out there, and it couldn’t truly be such an impossible place for him. For either of them, because they were the same. She wouldn’t accept that he could only survive in this terrarium. She wouldn’t accept him forcing her to carry their dream alone.
“Laios, stop!”
Falin stepped forward, reaching after Laios. Some kind of strange resistance slowed her movements, but she pushed through. Hands grabbed at her clothes, but she ignored them, until two more solid ones yanked her roughly back. She yelped, hitting the ground, the jolt shaking her head loose of the…
…the mirror.
How had she let herself get caught like that? Falin looked around, and saw Senshi and Chilchuck, still gripping her shoulders. The ghost was hovering behind her, tugging at her hair. Worry, worry, danger , she felt from him.
Chilchuck shook her. “Are you back, Falin? Are you with me?”
“Y— Yes,” she said. She blinked rapidly, her always blurry vision even blurrier for a moment. “They’re — they must be magic mirrors. I don’t know much about…”
Senshi pulled her to her feet. “Magic mirrors?” he asked.
“They show you illusions based on the weaknesses in your heart,” she said. “Don’t look into them!”
“Marcille and Shuro already fell in,” Chilchuck said. Falin’s breath shook out of her lungs. “How do we get them back?”
Falin thought about it. Breaking the mirror was too dangerous. She didn’t know a spell that would work. The only way she could think of was… “Do you know which mirrors?” she asked.
“Aye,” Senshi said. “The elf girl fell into that silver one, there. And the tall-man that one over there with the wings.”
Falin looked cautiously into the surface of those mirrors. She could see them. Marcille was eating a meal, and Shuro was talking to Laios. She couldn’t tell exactly what about the illusions had ensnared them.
Well, it didn’t matter. It just proved that they were still in there, which was all she needed to know.
“Chilchuck and I will go after them, into the mirrors.”
*
Falin landed in an unfamiliar room. A fireplace, a carpet, bookshelves on the walls… it reminded her of her family’s home, when she’d been a child. It was empty, but she heard voices she recognised coming from the next room. Checking the rope around her waist was secure, she pulled the door open.
“Falin?” Marcille said. She was sat at an ordinary dining table, in an ordinary kitchen, and sat next to her were Laios and Falin. “But… you’re —“
She looked over at the Falin sat next to her, and back at Falin herself. The fake Falin looked young, Falin noticed, unhappily. She didn’t look like a child or a teenager, the girl who had left the Magic Academy — she was recognisably the current Falin. But there was something coltish about her long limbs, and her red cheeks looked round with baby fat. She had something of the awkward child Falin had been about her, and she found herself surprised at how deeply it bothered her to think that that was the version of her that Marcille wanted.
Nevertheless, she was happy that Laios was important enough to Marcille to be in this illusion. The three of them eating together was a common occurrence, but this was the first time she’d realised it might be as important to Marcille as it was to her.
So you can’t say you don’t belong anywhere outside the dungeon, Laios, she thought. She wants to eat a normal meal with you, like we always do. It’s not as cool as monsters, but we can do that for her, can’t we?
Unfair of her, because the version of Laios she was arguing with was only a reflection of her imagination.
“I’m Falin,” she said. “That’s an illusion made by the mirror to trick you.”
“What mirror?” Marcille asked. It must work like a confusion spell, Falin thought, remembering the way that all the questions she’d had about the illusion she’d seen had seemed to drift away. It might not be possible to persuade Marcille, but she didn’t want to frighten her, and risk her using magic — who knew what might happen.
“Marcille, who are you talking to?” the fake Falin said. “There isn’t anyone there. Are you getting enough sleep?” She pressed the back of her hand to Marcille’s forehead. Marcille caught her wrist, smiling.
“I’m fine,” she said. “You shouldn’t worry about me!”
“Marcille, I know it’s been hard on you, to travel into the dungeon like we’ve been doing,” Falin said. She looked around the ordinary room. There was a simple pasta dish on the table, with steaming fresh bread rolls, which the fake Laios was eating. She’d thought that there were some parts of it Marcille had been enjoying… The monster food was tasty, wasn’t it? She’d smiled, hadn’t she?
“I’m so grateful you came anyway. And we’ll make this happen, for real,” Falin promised. “You and me. We’ll save Laios, and then we’ll leave the dungeon, and eat a normal meal that’ll make you happy. I promise. Just come with me, okay?”
A door opened behind her. “Your mama’s just talking to the neighbours, Marcille,” a man said. “She’ll be right in.” Falin turned around, but she didn’t recognise him. He was a tall-man, probably about her father’s age. …Who was this person to Marcille?
“Are you going to introduce me to your friends, honey?” he asked.
“This is my father,” Marcille said. “Papa, meet Falin and Laios.”
Falin’s first thought, stupidly, was Marcille wishes her father was a tall-man?
Just as bad, her second thought, which she blurted out, was: “Are you introducing me, or her ?”
Marcille just looked confused. “I — “ she said, “I don’t know…”
As well she might not, in the grip of a spell. Falin reigned in her frustration. It wasn’t like her to take her emotions out on people this way, and she really didn’t like how it made her feel.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” Laios said. Except, of course, it wasn’t really Laios.
Laios was dead. Marcille was fifty or so, wasn’t she? She never really talked about her father; if he’d been a tall-man…
Falin bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Marcille,” she said.
“What for?” Marcille asked.
“You wouldn’t be caught by an illusion of something you could achieve yourself. That isn’t like you. So I’d love to meet your father. I wish it was possible. But this isn’t real, and we need to go, or both of us will die.”
“Die?” Marcille said. “No, I can’t lose you too. Falin, promise me you won’t die!”
As a tall-man… wouldn’t that be far too cruel of a promise? But it was what Marcille needed to hear, wasn’t it? She looked so needy and small and so frightened, sat at the table with hunched shoulders and big wide wet eyes, so different from her usual big-sisterly condescension. Falin told herself she didn’t like it.
“I won’t die, Marcille, I promise,” the fake Falin said, gripping Marcille’s sleeve like a frightened child holding her mother. “We just need to stay here, and I’ll be safe.”
Falin had had enough. She strode over, and brusquely shoved her off, ignoring Marcille’s exclamation. Placing her hands on each side of Marcille’s face, forcing her to look at her straight-on, she said, “She can’t promise that, because she isn’t alive in the first place. Wake up, Marcille. That isn’t me!”
Falin hugged Marcille around her shoulders, pressing her face into her chest, against her heart. “Hear that? I’m alive. This is the real me, your friend. We’re both alive. I won’t leave you, so don’t be scared, and trust me a little, okay?”
Marcille wrapped her arms around Falin’s middle, nuzzling into her chest.
“Falin…” she said, dizzily. She sniffled. “I don’t know what’s going on… my head hurts… but I’m so glad. You’re still here… my first friend… my Falin… ”
Falin tightened her grip, squeezing Marcille tightly. Then she tugged on the rope.
Senshi pulled them out, as planned. There was a moment where they stuck on something that wasn’t the wall of the house and wasn’t the surface of the mirror, but was somehow both, and then with a squelch , they were free.
Falin was flat on her back outside the mirror, still embracing Marcille, who was now lying on her. She was still a little annoyed, but then Marcille blinked up at her, bleary-eyed, and she couldn’t be anymore.
Falin was sure she was even more rosy-cheeked than usual, but she was alive, and Marcille was alive, and she could hear Chilchuck telling Senshi off for looking in one of the mirrors, so the others must have made it out as well. Marcille’s eyes cleared, slowly, and her arm came up from Falin’s waist to rub at her forehead.
“Falin… you really saved me,” she said, with a rueful grimace. “I can’t believe a magic mirror got me. That’s so embarrassing.”
“One nearly got me, if it wasn’t for Chilchuck and Senshi,” Falin said. “They’re pretty nasty things, aren’t they?”
Marcille nodded, eyes welling up slightly.
Falin pushed herself up to a sitting position. She wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, with a teary woman in her arms. At a loss, she just kept her arms around Marcille’s back, loosening them as she sat up too. With no idea what to say, she said nothing. Her eyes drifted from Marcille’s faintly distant gaze to her shield, propped on the floor, then to Shuro, who turned his face away when he saw her looking.
Everyone seemed awfully downcast. Chilchuck finally cleared his throat. “Well, now that we’re all out… tell me we can smash these mirrors?”
*
They made quick work of it. Marcille had wanted to do it with her magic alone, reasoning that it was safer not to get close enough to hit the mirror with a weapon, but Falin thought that all of them needed some catharsis. Senshi was the only one who didn’t participate, entirely focused on cooking something with the scavenged rations.
Then Senshi’s food was ready; crunchy fried sandwiches with ham, cheese, and pickle. Marcille looked down at hers, eyes sparkling.
“You mean it’s just made from normal food? Not slime, or man-eating plant, or bugs?” she said, breathily.
Senshi gave a disappointed sigh. “Aye, though a coating of harpy egg would really make the bread crispier…”
“Mmm!” Marcille said. “It’s good as it is!”
Falin took a bite. It was good — better still for a day spent hungry and walking, and the stress and emotion of the mirrors. She closed her eyes, feeling the ghost in the corner of the room. She let his presence trickle into a corner of her mind, focusing on the feeling of the food in her mouth, the crunch and chew and tear, the satisfying salty taste of the meat. The pickle gave it a pleasant sour tang, and as she swallowed, she let the feeling of satisfied desire flow down their connection. The feeling of his gratitude filled her in a deeper, more satisfying way than the meal in her stomach.