XLI
I shove the spirit coins back into the lacquer box with shaking hands, their blue glow dimming as the lid snaps shut. The weight of them feels wrong in this world, too heavy, too alive. I drop the box into my old denim purse along with pepper spray, foldable steel blade, granola bars, a half chocolate bar, and tissues, all jostling around it. My jacket goes on next, the familiar weight grounding me even as the portal hums behind us like a living thing.
The mirror is no longer a mirror.
It's a doorway, a wound in reality.
A shimmering vertical seam of silver and blue, pulsing like a heartbeat.
I turn to Lorian.
He's standing a few feet from the portal, the firelight behind him and the mirror‑light in front of him painting his silhouette in gold and blue. His silver hair glows like moonlit water. His pointed ears catch the light. His phoenix‑bright eyes swirl with hazel and green, reflecting the portal's impossible depths.
I swallow hard. "Do you want to go in?"
My voice sounds steadier than I feel.
Lorian doesn't answer immediately. He steps closer to the portal, the blue light washing over his face, softening the sharp lines of his cheekbones. He looks… conflicted. Reverent. Afraid. Hopeful. He gripped the copper leaf key in his hand, clenched in a fist.
"I knew Olivia was hiding something," he says quietly. "But I didn't know she built a doorway."
He reaches out. His hand is not touching the portal, just hovering his near it with the copper leaf key. The surface ripples in response, like water reacting to heat.
"She told me once," he murmurs, "that her greatest secret wasn't in this world."
He turns to me then, and the look in his eyes makes my breath catch.
"I will go wherever you go."
He steps back, giving me space, letting me choose. The portal hums softly, the spirit coins in my purse vibrating faintly in answer. The mirrors around the room shimmer like they're watching. I tighten my grip on the purse strap. The copper key coin in my hand.
My heart pounds. I take one step closer to the doorway. I give Lorian my unoccupied hand.
"Let's jump together?"
The moment our hands link, the portal pulls.
I didn't pass through violently this time. There was no ripping sensation, no falling through endless mirror‑sky, It felt like reality stretch, like reality thinning around us and pulling away like cheese on pizza. The library shatters into silver shards, the firelight smearing into blue streaks, the mirrors blooming open like doors. Then everything snaps and then splashes. Suddenly we're in water. Cold, and deep, my body shivers with the shock, lungs gasping in water.
I gasp as the lake swallows me whole, the surface exploding around us. My lungs seize, and I choke on the icy rush, kicking hard to stay afloat. The denim purse drags at my shoulder, heavy with spirit coins and everything else I stuffed inside. I shoved the coin I'd been holding deeper into the bag, fumbling with the zipper as water splashes into my face, and I tread water to keep to the surface.
Lorian's voice is close, strained. He's beside me, treading water with surprising strength for someone dressed in Regency boots and knit trousers. His silver hair floats around him like strands of moonlight, his pointed ears slicked back, his phoenix‑bright eyes sharp with focus.
The lake is enormous, It's surface is dark blue, glassy, surrounded by towering trees that look familiar and wrong at the same time. The sky above us is pale, luminous, with no sun visible, only a diffuse glow that makes everything look dreamlike. A stream of colors whips through the sky as a sort of light, the aurora borealis but much closer to the surface of the earth.
I cough hard, spitting out water.
"I'm—fine," I manage, though my arms burn and my jacket feels like it weighs fifty pounds.
Lorian reaches for me, steadying my shoulder with one hand while kicking to keep us both afloat.
"This portal drops travelers into the lake," he says, breathless but calm.
"It's a threshold pool. Olivia must have known. Why weren't we warned."
"Great," I mutter, sputtering. "Wish she'd left a note." I hadn't gone through all her papers and secrets yet. Maybe I'd missed something.
The water is freezing, numbing my fingers. My purse bumps against my hip, heavy with spirit coins that pulse faintly even through the denim. The glow leaks out in soft blue flickers, lighting the water around us.
Lorian sees it and his expression tightens.
"We need to get to shore," he says. "Now."
I nod, teeth chattering, and together we start swimming. I lay on my back to conserve energy, using slow, clumsy strokes toward the nearest bank. The trees loom closer, their branches long and willow‑like, swaying though there's no wind. The lake ripples behind us. Something moves beneath the surface. Lorian's grip on my arm tightens for a moment.
"Don't look back," he murmurs. "Just swim."
We drag ourselves out of the lake, soaked and shivering, but alive. The moment my feet hit solid ground, the world around us shifts from cold shock to impossible beauty.
Glittering flowers surround us. A hundred bobbing heads surrounded with petals, each one glowing softly from within. Their petals shimmer like crushed gemstones, and every time a breeze stirs, they release clouds of luminous pollen that drift through the air like tiny floating stars. The pollen clings to my wet jacket, sparkling faintly. I'm still coughing lake water out of my lungs when I notice movement.
Tiny figures flit between the flowers. Humanoids with tiny wings.
Each one is no taller than my hand, with delicate bodies shaped like miniature people with slender arms, tiny legs, soft faces with bright eyes. Their bodies looked straw thin and hollow in the light, covered in layers of various flower petals. Their wings are butterfly‑like, translucent and iridescent, catching the glowing pollen and scattering it in rainbow flashes as they dart through the air.
They move in quick, curious spirals around us, leaving trails of shimmering dust.
Lorian steps slightly in front of me, not in a protective way, but in a respectful one, like he's entering sacred territory. His wet silver hair clings to his shoulders, his boots squelch in the mud, but his posture is steady, reverent.
"They're pollen sprites," he murmurs. "Caretakers of the threshold gardens. I know where we are now. These little ones are native of a specific mirror world."
One of the tiny, winged beings hovers near my face, its wings humming softly. Its eyes are bright gold, its expression curious but not afraid. It reaches out with a hand no bigger than a fingernail and touches a strand of my wet hair.
The pollen on its fingers glows brighter.
I swallow, barely breathing.
"They're harmless," Lorian says gently. "Unless provoked."
The sprites swirl around us in a loose ring, their wings stirring the glowing pollen into drifting clouds. The flowers pulse with soft light, responding to their movement. The entire shore feels alive—like a breathing ecosystem built around magic and mirror‑craft.
I clutch my denim purse tighter, feeling the spirit coins inside vibrate faintly.
The sprites notice. Their golden eyes widen. Their wings are beating slower.
The glowing pollen thickens around us.
Lorian's hand finds mine again, steady and warm despite the cold.
"We should move," he says quietly. "The sprites can sense soul‑energy. And spirit coins carry far too much of it."
I nodded, still staring at the glittering beings dancing through the flowers.
We're not alone in this world.
I take his hand, still dripping lake water, still glittering with stray pollen, and gaze at him as he breathes in the magic of this place. The glowing flowers pulse softly around us, the pollen sprites hovering like curious lanterns.
"So you know where we are, Lorian?"
He closes his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. The air here feels different, charged, sweet, humming with life. When he opens his eyes again, the hazel‑green swirl is brighter, almost luminous.
"Yes," he says, voice low and steady. "I know exactly where we are."
He turns slowly, taking in the trees, the lake, the drifting pollen, the sprites perched on petals like jeweled birds.
"This is your great‑uncle's home world."
My breath catches. This doesn't seem to be Austria.
He continues, his tone shifting into something reverent.
"Welcome to a mirror land many humans refer to as fairy."
The word hangs in the air like a spell.
"This realm is one of the mirror worlds closest to your native one. A threshold world. A place where the veil is thin, where crossings happen more easily. Many humans have passed through over the years, some by accident, some by invitation, some by inheritance." I swallow hard, the denim purse heavy at my side, spirit coins vibrating faintly inside.
"So this is… real," I whisper. Lorian nods.
"This place is real, and old. Older than your world. Your great‑uncle belonged here. His ancestors originated in this world. Olivia knew that. She built the portal so you could follow the path he left behind."
The pollen sprites drift closer, their tiny faces curious, their wings humming softly. One lands on Lorian's shoulder, dusting him with shimmering gold. He doesn't flinch; he simply smiles at it, gentle and knowing. My heart flutters.
I look around at the glowing flowers, the lake reflecting a sky with no sun, the trees bending like they're listening.
The realm of fairy. A mirror world that was my great‑uncle's home. That would mean that my great-uncle was part of fairy, and being his direct relative, Lorian was too.