[Mirror Me Series Book 1]
Hope Martinez was taught to fear her reflection, but the magical world on the other side is too tempting. Descended from those who can use mirrors as weapons, Hope has many dangers to face if she wants to get home before a...
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In a foggy bleak landscape where trees grew gnarled and only scavengers found refuge, a castle of silver glass reflected the dying light of day. Vanishing it seemed into the sky visible only by the lights within its tiny windows and the outline of its towers against the dark clouds, the castle breathed a dull sense of foreboding from its once welcoming splendor.
Folding the fog with her shifting hands Desire descended to the marshy ground, her orange hair twisting behind her eyes. With light steps she hovered towards the castle's arching silver gates where two griffins stood guard. Together they raised their eagle talons in protest while their great lion back legs arched ready to pounce. Using their beaks they snapped at Desire and lifted their wings so halt her advance.
"Let me pass," she ordered, dwarfed by the massive creatures. "I must speak with this holiness."
The griffins leaned in but did not budge. The stench in their breath invaded her nose. Blood still fresh on their tongues dripped onto the soil.
"Let me pass," cried Desire once more; her voice unwavered. "I demand entry." Seeing no yield in the griffins' stance she swished her arm forward calling forth a torrent of wind to bend back their wings. The griffins receded in pain leaving the path free to the castle beyond. She pressed onward through overgrown gardens of fallen stone and bent trees ravished by storms and neglect. The path ended at a large iron door. It creaked open as she came near.
Similar to the outside, the inside of the castle was lined with mirrors. Every wall, ceiling, and floor lay covered with the silver glass creating echoes of rooms and hallways that did not exist.
While Desire cast no reflection, dark things twisted within the glass beside her. Once people these shadowy outlines were hunched over crying, others paced in boardom, and some silhouetted against the glass attacked it with angry fists. A glittering prison it was of things time had forgotten or refused to remember.
Desire ignored the many anguished pleas as she continued to glide down the hall; her clothes flapping in a windless rhythm. Like a mirror maze she curved down corridors, up many flights of stairs, and finally to the tallest spire where her master was waiting.
Pushing wide the gilded doors, she entered a circular room surrounded with more mirrors and a dozen iron candelabras on pedestals. A devious crafted man stood pondering at his absent reflection. Wicked violet eyes peered through a white expressionless mask covered in purple markings like a mirror broken and glued back together. A cloak of the purest pitch pressed against his shoulders held in place by two sliver clips. Black leather gloves curved to claws around the hilt of a sword encrusted in fine jewels. Gray smoke lifted off this masked man's body and swirled into the air before disappearing into a point above his head.
Desire bowed low to the ground, her hair rising and falling softly.
"My lord, forgive my intrusion, but I come bearing important news."
