Mercia’s voice crescendos across the phantom wind’s howling.
Suddenly, the frame halts its movement and the large oval mirror shows Orion standing beside a black stallion, dressed in an unfamiliar uniform. Black armor gleams beneath the red insignia emblazoned over his chest. Twin deer, on their hind legs—the same one she saw on Mercia’s goldmint pills. And hanging on his belt is a sheathed broadsword, the silver hilt depicting a stag’s head—antlers and all.
Mercia stops chanting and lowers the glowing pendant. She tilts her head as she gazes at the mirror.
“He’s in the Fae Realm,” Mercia says. She places her free hand against the surface, the image rippling like water. “It’ll take about three days on foot to reach his camp, but the journey is not without danger.” She pulls her hand back and fishes a brass compact from her jean pocket. Mercia whispers a few words, and the glow of the pendant fades. A moment later, the wind hushes and the images on the mirror vanish. “That’s sorted.” She pivots and holds out the necklace to Rachel. “Once you give me the goldmint, I’ll give you the map.”
Rachel replaces the necklace around her neck as she moves to the old armchair where she’d set her sling bag, then rummages until she finds the plastic baggie. As she turns around, Mercia’s relief is almost tangible. Her shoulders relax as she exhales. Rachel returns to hand over the baggie.
“Okay.” Mercia pockets the goldmint. She takes a step closer and opens the brass compact to reveal yet another set of obsidian mirrors. “I transferred the map into this travel-sized mirror.” An image of the ACCESS PROHIBITED sign takes shape in the reflective area. “The top mirror shows Orion at any given moment. The bottom one will show you the next landmark to look for on your way to him. So, basically, it’s your map. Once you go past the signpost, the image changes. Simple yet effective, don’t you agree?”
Rachel grumbles an affirmative as she stares at the mirror. “You said something about danger?”
“I don’t exactly know what made me say it. The terrain isn’t friendly, sure, but it’s something else. I think what I sensed relates more to the people Orion’s hanging around with ... They’re giving off iffy vibes,” Mercia explains, handing over the compact mirror. “Just keep an eye out for trouble and you’ll be fine.”
“That’s it?”
Mercia shrugs. “That’s it.”
Dubious, Rachel studies Mercia’s expression, searching for something insincere. Surely there’s more to this trip than simply walking for a few days. The Fae Realm is, after all, a whole other dimension, with unknown dangers and whatnot.
“Don’t look at me like I’ve just signed your death warrant.” Mercia steps toward the wooden chest. “Seriously, there are simpler ways to kill you if ending your life was my intention. Besides, why would I, when you’re one of the few people I, like, don’t entirely hate?”
Rachel pockets the compact mirror. “Yesterday—”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Mercia cuts her off. “I’m so used to everyone making fun of me and my condition that I sometimes forget there are actually a few decent people in this town. Don’t think I didn’t notice you slapping Eddie Roberts’ phone out of his hand sophomore year when I—” She stops talking as she hunches down and opens the lid on the chest, averting her gaze. Mercia clears her throat. “Females typically wear pants and tunics when they travel long distances in the Fae Realm. You should also braid your hair, that way you won’t stand out too much when you come across any locals.”
“Okay, but what if I don’t find Orion and I need to get back to the Harrowsgate? Will this thing show me the way?” Rachel bites the inside of her lip.
“Even magic has its limits,” Mercia says. “Go, get ready.” She looks up. “You’re burning valuable daylight.”
“You’ll help Dougal, right?” Rachel asks.
“I give you my word as a Holstein witch. I’ll help keep everyone semi-safe.”
“Semi-safe?”
“Well, it’s not like I’m all-powerful. If I were, don’t you think I’d have this situation under control by now?” Mercia snorts. “Now go. I need to pack up the mirrors.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rachel takes her leave, heading for her bedroom to pack the essentials. A lot can go wrong in three days, especially in an unknown realm where she cannot distinguish between friend and foe. If something goes wrong, she’s on her own. Nobody will come looking for her. There’s no cell phone signal, no Wi-Fi, no emergency services.
Rachel settles on taking only the bare minimum. This includes: a thick rolled-up blanket, her toiletries, a lighter, extra underwear and socks, enough food to last her a week, and a water bottle. She decides on a pair of black jeans, a white winter’s shirt that laces up in the front and looks medieval to the untrained eye, as well as a pair of black hiking boots. At the last minute, she adds a heavy-duty torch and extra batteries, as well as a second outfit into her backpack—black leggings and a thick winter jacket with a faux fur hoodie and cuffs. That’s the best she can do on such short notice.
“Rachel,” Mercia shouts from downstairs as Rachel braids her thick, red hair. “If you take any longer, you might as well wait until morning.”
Rachel ties the ends of her hair and picks up the faux leather backpack she plans on taking along. “Come on, Ziggy. Let’s go find Orion and bring him home.”
The Fae light flies ahead of her as Rachel exits her room and makes her way back downstairs, where
