“Don’t look too long,” Ibin whispered, tugging her forward. “The mirrors can trap you in possibilities.”
“Like those threads we saw before?” Ava asked, remembering the gateway to Rig’s home.
“Similar,” Nos said. “Different facets of the same concept.”
As they passed through the mirror doorway, Ava felt a strange sensation—like her skin was being peeled away, examined, and put back on slightly wrong. It didn’t hurt. It just felt…invasive. Gross.
On the other side, they emerged into a vast chamber that seemed to be constructed entirely of light and shadow. No walls. No ceiling. Just varying densities of illumination.
“This is new,” Ibin murmured, sounding concerned.
“New?” Ava turned to her. “What do you mean,new?Haven’t you been living here for like a century or something?”
“The Web changes.” Nos’s tone was one of someone who was explaining something to a particularly slow child. “What was once is not always what is.”
“Thanks for more fortune cookie wisdom,” Ava snapped. “Any actualusefulinformation?” Book felt warm under her arm. Almost hot. Like it was reacting to something.
“Ava,” Ibin said slowly. “Your book…”
She looked down. Gold light was seeping from between Book’s pages, like it was trying to open itself. “Um…Book, buddy? You okay?”
“That,” Nos said, “should not be happening.”
She held the book out in front of herself, looking down at it curiously. “What do you wanna say, Book? Speak, boy—speak.”
“You named it…Book?” Ibin arched an eyebrow.
“Yeah, it’s a long st?—”
The book flew open.
A blinding, golden light poured from the book. Ava, Ibin, and Nos screamed.
She couldn’t seeanything.Shutting her eyes, she turned her head from the glow, but it was useless. It was so blinding, it didn’t matter if her eyes were shut or not.
It took her a second or two to realize there was a fourth scream mixed in with the three of theirs.
SLAP.
Book slammed shut in her hands.
And then they were standing in darkness.
Complete, absolute darkness.
“Well.” Her voice echoed strangely. “Ow. What was that about?”
Something brushed against her arm in the darkness—something that wasn’t Ibin or Nos.
Something with too many fingers.
“Don’t move,” Nos ordered, his voice tight.
“Why?” she whispered. Though she was pretty sure she already knew.
“Because,” Ibin whispered back, “we’re not alone.”
The darkness around them shifted. Like something massive was moving through it. Something ancient. Something patient.
