Mirrored

Chapter Twenty-Two - Spencer

             When I wake up, everything hurts. I'm lying on my back, which is not helping the scratches that those creatures gave me in the arena. And I'm really tired. I guess fighting a bunch of monsters and then murdering a zombie king will do that to you.

       I don't remember passing out. The last thing I remember is Chance calling my name, looking concerned, and then suddenly I'm here. Wherever here is.

         I'm lying on a maroon blanket in a tiny bed set into a wall. There's a desk in the center of the small room, organized and neat. Right behind the desk is a large round window looking out on... the sky? 

         I manage to stand up, groaning a little, and walk over to the window. Yes, it's the sky. I'm in the sky. Suddenly I remember Dorian and the Circus of Lost Souls, and their ship that apparently flies. 

         At that moment, a small gray-haired human man comes down the stairs to the room. He startles when he sees me, then smiles nervously. "You're awake! That's great!" 

        "Yeah..." I say absently, still looking around and trying to get my bearings. "So who are you?"

      The man blinks. "Oh. I'm Nigel. I'm kind of a doctor. I bandaged your wound last night."

       I reach back and touch the spot where I was hurt, feeling smooth cloth bandages. "Thanks, I guess."

       "You're welcome," Nigel says, less nervous now. "Um, your friends are up on the deck." Then he turns and goes back up the stairs without another word. 

        I look around and find my leather jacket draped over the desk chair. I pick it up and put it on carefully, so as not to disturb my wounds. Then I head up the stairs to the deck.

          ***************************************************

       The deck of the Snapdragon is chaos. People and creatures of all shapes and sizes are scattered across it, some playing card games, some just talking. There's someone at the wheel, steering the ship through the sky effortlessly.

         There's a large concentration of people gathered around the center of the deck, laughing and cheering and seemingly egging someone on. 

       I step up to the crowd and nudge a scaly lizard-like being. "What's going on?" he grins at me and shoves me forward. "Take a look."

         The crowd parts for me, and I push through to the front to find Kitty and Skip swordfighting.

       The sight shocks me, mainly because I never imagined my sweet little sister fighting anyone, much less with a sword. But here she is, wielding the old weapon I picked up from the arena, her hair tied back with a bandana of red cloth, stumbling through the footwork with a smile on her face. Skip has her own sword, long and thin and razor-sharp, with a pattern of leaves carved into the blade and the hilt decorated with twisting vines. She calls out commands to Kitty every couple of minutes, such as "Strike! Parry! Dodge! Lunge!"

Kitty's face is beaded with sweat, but her smile never falters. She isn't particularly good, but she's a fast learner, and soon enough she can go through the basic moves easily.

        "Go, Kitten!" I cheer, and she whips her head around to grin at me, which is a mistake, because it allows Skip to catch her sword and twist it out of her hand. Kitty gasps, and the green girl doesn't hesitate to lash out and trip her. Kitty stumbles and crashes to the ground, and Skip leans over her, placing a knee on her stomach and laying her sword across my sister's throat.

       "Whoa," Kitty breathes, eyes wide. "That was cool."

"Surrender," Skip hisses, trying for threatening but ending up playful.