—3—
It worked!
When two windows, lit with early morning light appeared, Holk grinned. He was back in the room overlooking the ocean. Turning his attention toward the mirror with the golden border adorned with fancy filigree, he figured a touch should take him to the room of the giant mushrooms. With confidence high, he marched straight to it and placed his hand upon the center of its reflective surface.
In an instant, the wall vanished and the forest of mushroom stalks took its place. There had been no feeling of having been moved. One moment he stood in the Prison Room, and the next he was surrounded by gigantic, fungal growths.
Such translocation shouldn’t be possible. He had never heard of such a thing, yet he couldn’t very well dispute his own senses. Or could he? Madness… No. This was all too real. Madness should be chaotic, emotionally taxing, and well, maddening. This had the feel of reality, though a reality with which he had little experience.
Okay, if this was real, where was he? More importantly, how could he get out? Standing amongst the mushrooms, a thought occurred to him. If he had entered this, uh, realm, by way of a mirror, then logic dictated another would get him out.
As he pondered his next course of action, his stomach growled. Hunger having been forgotten in the complexities of his current situation, it could no longer be kept at bay. The last nourishment that had passed his lips had been the bird caught back in the Kiln. Though having assuaged his hunger, it had been less than satisfying.
Gazing at the red cap of the giant mushroom before him, he wondered if it would be edible. Back home, his wife would use mushrooms on occasion. After a good rain, they would sprout in the forest near their home. Taking in the brightness of its reddish hue, he couldn’t recall her using a mushroom of such coloring. Those she harvested tended to be beige or gray.
A quick glance at his immediate surroundings revealed others of a more familiar hue. He didn’t know much about mushrooms other than they tasted good in his wife’s stew, though he did recall how she commented once on the poisonous of certain varieties.
Again, his stomach growled, insistent in its need to be satiated. With hunger prodding him forward, he selected a specimen that closely resembled those his wife had used having an off-brown coloring. It came easily from out of the ground, a spiderwebbing of small roots breaking off as he pulled it free.
The cap was soft and malleable. Taking a hesitant bite, he found the flavor akin to what he knew. The taste was rather bland, but the texture seemed right. He took a second, larger bite. Once that had been chewed and swallowed, he decided to wait before consuming any more. His stomach didn’t care for such a cautious course of action and gave out with a rather noisy declaration that said, “Feed me!” Holk ignored it. Should the mushroom prove toxic, it would be best if he ingested as little as possible. An hour should do it, he told the vociferous rumblings. If after that time he felt no ill effects, he would eat his fill. A glance around the room revealed many of the small, gray variety that waited to be gathered.
Water he had in plenty, the Lake Room held enough to last him a lifetime. Should the mushrooms prove benign, hunger would not be a problem either. There were still two main concerns which needed addressing; getting out, and light.
Of the three areas; the Lake Room, the Mushroom Garden, and the Prison, only the Prison had any source of light, and that would only last as long as the sun was up. His torch would not last forever. He needed to find the way out, and soon.
Recalling how he had discovered a second mirror in the Lake Room, Holk turned his efforts in discovering if this room also held a second mirror. Giving a quick, cursory examination, he soon found a second mirror a hundred feet farther down the wall to the right of the small, round brass mirror he encountered earlier which took him to the knoll of the Lake Room.
This one was just as small as the room’s other mirror, only with swirls of crystals surrounding the reflective area in lieu of a traditional border. Holk admired the craftsmanship of the crystals, figuring it to be worth quite a tidy sum if he could get it back home.
He tried removing it from the wall, but found it to be firmly in place. He longed for the knife inadvertently left behind in the cave back in the Kiln. With its blade, perhaps he could have pried it from the wall. Since he didn’t have it, removal was a moot point.
Would it take him from this place? Based on past experiences with the mirrors of this place, he figured it would take him somewhere, if not necessarily away. Thus far, the areas connected by the mirrors have been fairly benign. But in the back of his mind lurked the thought that placing his hand upon this mirror might take him some place he didn’t want to go. Had he a choice?
This was the only mirror he knew of that he had yet to try. True, he hadn’t completely explored the Lake Room, and there was the door that defied every attempt to open back in the Prison Room. Another way might be available, but in each instance, an element of unknown danger would still remain. Coming to a decision to take the chance, Holk reached out his hand and placed it against the mirror’s cool, reflective surface.
Instantly, sunlight bathed him as he again stared at the twin windows of the Prison Room. “Why back here?” Musing to himself, he crossed over to the right-hand window and gazed out.
Sunlight sparkled on wave crests for as far as the eye could see. The sky above was a brilliant blue marred only by a few wisps of clouds drifting by on lazy currents of air. No boats, nor any other sign of life, just water. Disappointed, he turned his attention back to the door.
It remained resolute in its desire to balk him. Unable to budge it, he tried placing the burning end of the torch against it. All that did was leave a black mark. Maybe if he had a bonfire going he could burn the door down, but considering the barrenness of the rooms he’d been in, such a course of action lay far beyond his reach.
But was this the only remaining avenue to be tried? He yet had to give every room a thorough look. Perhaps there may yet be another mirror? Only one way to find out. Turning about, he crossed over to the gold, filigreed mirror and laid his hand upon its center.
Immediately, he was back among the mushrooms. A thorough search revealed that the two mirrors he already knew about, the small round brass one that would take him to the Lake Room and the one bordered by crystal swirls that would return him to the Prison Room, were all the room offered. Having already inspected the Prison Room, Holk touched the small brass mirror and found himself once again on the small knoll of the Lake Room.
Holding the torch high, he scanned the walls, readily seeing the reflective surfaces of the two known mirrors, one bordered by a rectangular field of gold and the other a silver oval. He knew that the former would take him to the Prison Room, and the latter to the mushrooms.
As his eyes followed the cavern wall in its trek around the subterranean lake, they lost it at one point when it passed beyond the reach of the torchlight. The area of shadows lasted but twenty feet before the wall reappeared. From there, the wall remained in sight until reconnecting at the first mirror again.
Holk turned his attention back to the shadowy area. If there was another mirror, then it must assuredly be hidden in there. He didn’t fancy another immersion in the cold water, but had little options. His torch wouldn’t last forever and he needed to discover whether or not the shadowy area held something beneficial, like a way out.
Bracing for the icy touch of the water, he stepped into it and upon reaching a suitable depth, began one-armed swimming; the other being otherwise occupied in keeping the torch high and dry.
Torchlight rolled back the shadows with every stroke. The cavern narrowed to a watery tunnel barely fifteen feet in width as it curved toward the right. Maintaining a steady rhythm, Holk entered the tunnel and followed the curve until the main cavern passed from view. After completing a half-circle, the tunnel’s end came into sight.
Not far past where the tunnel continued straight once again, rose a jagged area of exposed rock. It held no flat area larger than the palms of his hands setting side by side, merely a conglomeration of broken rock protruding outward at every angle. Above the rocks, set flush against the wall, was another mirror; triangular with a cracked and time-worn wooden frame.
Will this take me home?
With only one way to find out, Holk swam toward the up-jutting rock pile. The climb from the water and up to the mirror left hands and arms with nicks and scrapes. To avoid the worst of what the rocks could do to him, Holk took it slow. When he at last reached the top and stood before the mirror, he searched it, and the immediate area, for any clue as to where it might lead. Unfortunately, if there was a rhyme or reason correlating the mirror’s construction to where it would send him, he was unable to discern it. Feeling like a man rolling dice with everything riding on the outcome, he reached out and touched the mirror.
Translocation, though unnerving, created no ill feelings, nor any kind of sensory anomaly. Holk started out atop the pile one moment, then stood among an array of rock formations the next. Shadows danced around him as a slight breeze caused the torchlight to flicker and dance off dozens of stalagmites and ‘tites.
Towers of rock rose from the cavern floor, while others cascaded down from the ceiling. Every ‘mite had its ‘tite. Some had even grown together, forming complete columns of stone. Small sounds of drip-drip-drip could be heard from all around.
Off to his left in a small, cavernous recess, torchlight was being reflected. Moving around the rocky spires, Holk made his way toward a mirror unlike any of the others. It had a blue, shimmering field that seemed to flow around the reflective surface in a clockwise manner. Intrigued, he came closer and gave the blue border a closer, visual inspection, preferring not to touch it until ready to depart. With a border like that, who knew what it might do.
The blueness did indeed seem to be in motion, though it could easily have been a trick of the erratic light being given off by his flickering torch. Curiosity satisfied for the moment, Holk turned his attention to the rest of the cavern. Since the other areas contained more than one mirror, he figured this one would as well.
He made a circuit of the room, its dimensions being about half that of the Lake Room, and came back to the blue-bordered mirror without finding another. Maybe the ‘Tite Room didn’t have more than the one mirror?
While bolstering his courage to try the mirror, his attention was again drawn to the flickering of his torch. It occurred to him that the breeze causing its erratic behavior had to come from, and go to, somewhere. A way out perhaps?
Putting some distance between himself and the wall, Holk used the torch as a guide in search of the elusive egress. Since the flame was being blown toward the center of the room, he moved against the current toward the wall.
He made his way around the stalagmites. Upon reaching the rock wall marking the edge of the room, he came to a confused stop. A breeze could be felt, but there was no avenue through which it could be passing. Placing his hand against the wall’s rocky imperfections failed to bring to light the breeze’s origin. That’s when he realized the breeze was flowing down the side of the wall from the upper reaches of the ‘Tite Room. A glance to the upper reaches of the wall and adjoining ceiling failed to reveal the source of the airflow.
If he couldn’t find the inflow, perhaps the outflow would be more readily discernible. With that in mind, Holk moved from the wall and allowed the fluttering flame of the torch to lead him. Step by step, he moved toward the center of the room. At ten paces, the flame began fluttering wildly in all directions. Upon reaching fifteen, the flame had settled down but now blew in the opposite direction.
Bewildered to say the least, Holk retraced his steps back to the cavern wall. Once again, and this time taking it very slowly, he inched his way forward.
At roughly the same point as before, the flame was again blown about in every direction. Holk came to a stop as he watched the flame dance. Creeping forward, he again reached a point where the wild gyrations of the flame settled down and fluttered back toward the center of the room.
The room’s center was naught but stone and towering columns where ‘mites and ‘tites had grown together to form columns. He returned to the center, that area where the flame danced the most wildly, and this time worked his way perpendicularly to his original path. Once he moved beyond a certain distance, the flame settled down and was drawn to the center.
He tried it along half a dozen points, and each time, the flame was blown toward the same point of the room. Not the exact middle, but close enough to be considered such. Intrigued and befuddled, he came to stand upon the spot where he believed the air currents converged.
Now, what is it about this spot that causes such a thing? There is no fissure or opening through which it could be drawn?
Holk was at a loss. There was a mystery in that room, one which may very well lead to his deliverance from this place if only he could figure it out. Intrigue and befuddlement rapidly grew into irritation and annoyance.
The walls held no fissures, the floor bore no cracks or other openings, so where…? Raising his gaze, he turned them up toward the cavern’s ceiling. Could it be? He raised the torch as high as he could. The flame whipped about and the residual smoke emitted by the burning material twisted into a spiral as it rose to the cavern’s shadowy heights.
At this point, the ceiling was beyond the reach of the torch’s light. Holk’s gaze tried piercing the shadows but had little luck. He had heard of such things, boreholes miners would delve in order to maintain a fresh supply of air in the nether reaches. Could this be what it was? A borehole would extend all the way to the surface. Excited and wishing to know for sure, Holk tossed the torch up into the air.
End over end it rotated as upward it flew. Peaking in its arc, the torch at last revealed a dark space crouched in-between three of the massive, rock columns some distance still farther above.
That might be it!
Once the torch fell back and landed upon the ground, Holk picked it up and this time, threw it with every bit of strength at his disposal. It quickly reached the point where it peaked the previous time and continued on. The sound of wind whipping the flame grew in intensity the farther up it went. As it peaked, Holk’s hope of an avenue from this place was quickly dashed. The dark area turned out to be another mirror with a bordering of dark red, and where the reflective surface should have been, a black vortex churned.
Holk couldn’t believe someone would put a mirror way up there. While pondering such incongruities, he came to realize the torch hadn’t begun its descent. In fact, it appeared to be hovering several feet beneath the mirror’s black vortex. The torch remained so for several moments before beginning to rise.
Moving very slowly at first, it picked up speed as it drew closer to the black vortex. Unable to stop the torch’s ascent, and in awe that this could even be happening, Holk watched as his torch, his only source of light, was drawn inexorably toward, and then into, the black vortex. Being too far away, he couldn’t be sure if the torch vanished upon touching the mirror, or had merely been drawn into it. Either way, the result was the same. Holk was plunged into darkness.
”Damn.”
Giving out with a stream of expletives that would make any soldier proud, he began making his way blindly toward the wall. As hands passed from one stalagmite to the next, he tried to bring his anger under control. No sense berating himself over the loss of the torch. How could he have known throwing it up there would have resulted in its disappearance?
He couldn’t help but think about the difference in how this mirror reacted to the ones already encountered. It wasn’t passive, it drew in what whatever happened to be close. That would also explain the odd behavior of the wind that had blown the torch.
Upon reaching the wall, he worked his way around the room’s edge in search of the mirror. He would have thought the mirror’s shimmering blue border would be discernible in the darkness, but it must not have its own, internal light source.
He went round and round in his attempt to locate the mirror. It seemed he had gone around the room at least twice before his hand finally encountered its smooth border. Bracing himself for wherever he may be sent, he reached a finger out and touched the reflective surface.
Instantly, the darkness was no more. He was back in the Prison Room where light from a setting sun streamed in through both windows. Relieved to no longer be in the dark, he slumped down against the wall opposite the windows and allowed the sun’s rays to purge the chill from his bones.
All rooms seemed to connect back to this one, while the only out-bound mirror in the Prison Room led to the mushrooms. A hub of some kind? He wasn’t sure if any correlation actually existed, but it was worth considering.
Exhaustion and frustration took its toll. He watched the sun as it descended below the window sill. Too tired to do anything about his situation, Holk laid his head back and closed his eyes. His stomach growled, but it would have to wait.
There were certain challenges he had yet to overcome. First and foremost was locating a light source. In the Prison Room, he at least had the daylight, but that did him little good in the other enclosed, underground rooms. Could they even be called rooms? Probably not, but that’s how he thought of them.
The only area that held anything remotely organic that might have a chance of being combustible, was the room with the mushrooms. He didn’t think the smaller ones would be of much use, but the larger? The one he thumped had felt more solid than fungal, kind of like a tree. He would make that his number one priority when the sun came up.
For now, his mind was shutting down, fatigue taking over. Before realizing it, he was asleep.
