The room stood bare save for an oval mirror that hung in space across from him. Aside from its lack of support, it was unremarkable. He examined his reflection, not having seen himself in the Majestic Majus’ black garb yet. The overall impression was intimidating and made worse by the black hood obscuring his face, its shadows suggesting something sinister. With a start, he realized he wasn’t wearing the hood, and no sooner had that difference registered than the reflection stepped from within the apparent mirror and into the room, the portal vanishing. Matt gasped and stepped back, but it was too late. With a curt gesture, the figure spoke a word and Matt could no longer move. It grabbed him by the robe.
“Who are you?” the figure demanded, piercing eyes glaring.
“Uh, Soliander,” Matt stammered, frightened.
The glare hardened. “No, you are not. What is your name?”
Unsure what to say, Matt repeated with more confidence, “Soliander.”
The man’s eyes flashed. “Soranumirae,” he intoned, and sudden pressure crushed Matt’s chest. His eyes bulged as he struggled to breathe, his face turning red. Merciless eyes stared back and only when Matt started to black out did the figure speak again. “Earimunaros.” The pressure released and Matt gasped for air, dizzy and weak. Before he’d finished recovering, the figure looked ready to do it again.
“Matt!” he blurted between gasps, in over his head and wanting out. “My name’s Matt. Sorenson, from Earth.”
The figure’s eyes intensified as if recognizing the name, surprised by it, or both. “Earth?”
“Yes. My planet. Where I came from.” Matt squirmed as the figure stared at him silently. Maybe he’d said something wrong.
“And who travels with you?”
Matt figured little harm could come from giving their real names, since this man clearly knew he wasn’t Soliander. “Eric, Anna, and Ryan, all from Earth, too.”
The man cocked an eyebrow, eyes boring into his. “Not Andier, Eriana, or that lumbering idiot Korrin?”
“No. We’re not really them, just pretending to be.”
The man seemed satisfied and thoughtful before returning attention to his captive. “Who sent you?”
“Uh, Queen Lorella.”
The figure scowled. “Not to this castle, to this world.”
Matt wasn’t sure how to answer that. “We were summoned by Sonneri.”
The man frowned and paused, rephrasing his question. “Did Andier, Eriana, or Korrin somehow arrange for you to arrive in their place during the next summoning?”
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.” Matt noticed he didn’t ask about Soliander, and with a start the significance of their identical possessions registered, right down to the supposedly one of a kind staff each held. His eyes widened in excitement and fear, but he dared not ask the question, instead focusing on how he was going to get out of this. He couldn’t move his arms but wondered if his magic items might work. His eyes turned to the staff.
“It is no use,” the figure said, seeing his gaze. “You cannot cast a spell. I have seen to that. Your magic devices will also not work.” Suddenly the figure paused, wide eyes on Matt’s staff. “You…you have a copy of the staff! This should not be.” Suspicious eyes turned on the techie, a glint of new menace appearing. “Well, no matter. You won’t live to use it. You will remain until I am done with you, and you will reveal what I want to know.”
With that, the man put one hand on Matt’s forehead and spoke magic words he understood. “Be open and true, your mind laid bare, safe and secure, your secrets treasured, honored, and shared. Let all be revealed in the comfort of benevolence, kindness, and trust, for to free yourself of your fear is to free your heart’s woes. Be open to me, in all your beautiful glory.”
Despite the soothing words, Matt resisted as the man probed his mind, control of his thoughts wrested away. As if his memories were television stations and this man held the remote, his thoughts leapt from one thing to another, randomly and without regard for Matt’s privacy. He flushed at being violated, embarrassing moments mixing with what anyone knew about him, secrets of no value to this man devoured as readily as their time on Honyn. Matt’s life flashed before his eyes, anger building as he sensed amusement and scorn about his life and identity from the man.
He could still think for himself, it seemed, and in the back of his mind an idea lay hidden, his eyes on the identical staves. If he could control his staff, then in theory he could control the other one, too. Matt’s staff might have been disabled by the wizard, but the other one likely hadn’t been.
In desperation, Matt focused his will on the figure’s staff, reaching out to it with all his might. At first it wouldn’t recognize him as if uncertain that two people could connect to it at once, but then Matt felt it react. So, too, did the figure, realizing Matt’s intent and surprised it was working, which Matt sensed due to their connection. But it was too late. With a burst of hope, Matt embraced the energy and spoke the word, “Enumisar.” Flames erupted from it to engulf the man and in an instant Matt fell free of his grasp and the spell binding him. Scorching heat washed over him as he turned and ran, screams of pain and rage mixing with the crackle and whoosh of fire behind him.
Standing with a knife in each hand, the rogue looked around warily. He’d come through the door last and seen his friends in the room before him, but now they and the room itself were gone. The knives had come out
