Fayne left that evening before we'd realized his only way back was through the Trump I'd lent him. He asked if we needed any supplies, as he was headed for his homeland, a very advanced, sophisticated world. I, having gotten along fine in my "low-culture" world, was fine, but I think Mythos missed the amenities of her land, and put in quite a request.
Mythos and I traveled home; nearest Amber we passed on the ferry by Arden Isle, which I pointed out for a moment, until a niggling voice in my head reminded me that a darkness was headed towards Amber, and there's no time to deal with the fanciful or romantic, no matter how pleasant that might be. I sighed inwardly and we continued back to town.
It was not much later that we gathered with Hannah to begin the investigation of the old Castle. Even upon approaching from a distance, the image of the ruins, shrouded in mist, was unsettling. I said a few prayers to ward against the spirits of the dead; unfortunately I did not know any that would help me cross a rickety bridge.
The castle was alive with what seemed the restless spirits of the dead; My scrying showed that the ambient mystical energy level was massive. we picked our way through ruins (led by one shade in particular) until we stumbled into a door seemingly untouched by the devastation. Every fiber of my being smelled a trap, but Hannah and Mythos seemed unfazed, and popped right through the door one after the other. Nobody seemed to die (immediately), so I followed, thinking to myself that the impetuousness must run in the family.
*****
I think we'd gone about half a mile through the shattered remnants of a billion mirrors when we noticed that magic was dead, as well the Trumps; doubletracking, we found our door of entry could no longer be gotten to. We reversed yet again, and made our way along in the gloom.
It was not long before we heard the sound of shuffling feet through the glass; I called a halt and we waited. The figures got closer until Mythos yelled out "Cordelia? and I groaned, drawing my sword, but luckily it was her, and the person with her was not holding a knife to her throat. He was Tevis, and he'd helped Cordelia out of a complicated mess after she'd been kidnapped. Still, he looked shifty, for some reason, and I resolved to keep my eye on him.
We continued on, all together now, when we found one mirror that had been reassembled. Mythos pushed her finger through the mirror's surface and I resolved that we should talk about taking care with the unknown. That was set aside as a figure came *through* the mirror -- a lithe redhead who announced herself as the Keeper of the Doors of Time.
We listened to her as she made cryptic remark after cryptic remark. It seems that the only thing anyone can say around here is shrouded in mystery and half-truths -- there is no source of plain information. For the third time in as many hours, I sighed. I've learned to head the warning of the mystic many years ago, but this was becoming ridiculous. An armed force can only prepare on accurate information -- without intelligence, movements become complete disasters.
As I thought about this, I turned just in time to watch Mythos fall backwards through the mirror.
*****
We rode back in silence. I was equal parts anger and concern for Mythos -- not only did I know where she was, but I did not even know *when* she was. I couldn't even begin to think of how I would explain what happened to her -- and I couldn't even begin to fathom what to do about it. I had no idea where to seek her out -- the Pattern lesson did not involve moving through both space *and* time.
Fate smiled, though, and she popped back in existence in front of my horse, and I could not be too angry with her as she fell asleep in the saddle in front of me.
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