Shades of Grey

CRONAMIA— MARCH 1843

“Answer!” barked the mysterious voice, echoing off the endless mirrors.

“My name is Grey Echo,” I answered solidly. “I have been sent by the steward of Xanthar to retrieve the queen.”

There was silence in the dark hall, lit only by the flickering light of the six thick wall torches around me. I withdrew my Flamesword and ignited it, holding it above me to light the endless corridor.

“Xanthar means nothing to us,” the voice replied.

“Who are you?” I asked with more authority in my voice. I stood up in an attempt to prove more to myself than the voice that I was not frightened.

“I WILL ASK THE QUESTIONS HERE!”

I tripped over my quaking knees at the sudden reply.

“Where are my friends?” I asked timidly.

The voice responded with a deep, maniacal, insane fit of laughter. I shifted uncomfortably as I thought about what the savage Cronamians could be doing to Forma and Rodag to educe such a sadistic reaction of pleasure.

“If you want to see them alive again, you must be punished for trespassing onto our lands.”

“Alright,” I said quickly. “How so?”

“The punishment will be taken in three parts. Each will be more difficult and trying than the last, even for your young body and mind. Are you still as willing?”

I looked around at the mirrors, staring at my dishevelled, waterlogged personage. I looked tired and far older than my eighteen years. The ancient Cumaean Sibyl probably looked better when she finally met Aeneas. I then thought about all that Forma and I had been through and the oath that I had recited upon Commencement: as a Creature Hunter, Forma and I both had a duty to make sure the other was safe at all times. I had to uphold this oath.

“I am.”

I was greeted with another sickening bout of laughter when the endless mirrors suddenly slid together, lining the corridor.

“They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. In which of these do you see yourself escaping?” the voice challenged.

I sighed in exasperation as I easily deciphered the riddle: the mirrors were the way out. However, in examining the length of the hall I saw that I had at least four hundred mirrors to destroy before I could move on to the next obstacle, so the odds looked less than promising.

In spite of this, I withdrew my two pistols and quickly cocked each. I then walked to the beginning of the hall and positioned myself so that I had one row of mirrors on my left and one on my right. I aimed each pistol at the opposing mirrors and squeezed both triggers. After a brief shower of glass shards, I examined each mirror and saw nothing, just the walls of the cave.

I moved on to the next two and performed the same routine, briefly examining both mirrors after each blast subsided. Time after time I was greeted with failure, mirror after mirror led to nothing but cave wall.

I began running, shooting faster and faster until I finally shattered a mirror on my left. Upon penetration of the bullet, the glass fell down instead of outward, for there were no reverberations from the cave wall to propel the glass forward: this was my escape.

I slowed to a stop and saw a dark hallway behind the mirror frame.

“Excellent,” I murmured to myself with a grin.

I began running down the hall behind the mirror, until it suddenly and abruptly turned out to be yet another chute through which I fell for about a minute or so before I saw any source of luminance.

It was to be minutes later when I would see that the light I was falling towards was emanating from a lake of burning water.