Chapter Eighty-Four - Psychohazard

“Hey, hey,” I said as I rubbed Awen’s back.

Her fighting and crying had stopped after a bit, especially when Amaryllis and I had pulled her away from the edges of the bridge and brought her closer to the doors.

Those mirrors back there were awful. Worse than the golems by far. All the golems wanted to do was murder us, not make my friends cry.

“This floor’s a tricky one, Moon Moon was right,” Amaryllis said as she stared into the room. “You don’t seem to be affected as much. We could use you as a guide?”

“Yeah,” I said. I kept rubbing Awen’s back. “Let’s give Awen a bit to compose herself first?”

“I’m--I’m sorry,” Awen sniffled.

“None of that,” I said. “It’s okay. Sometimes things scare some people more than others; we all want some things really badly. Everyone has a price, I guess.”

Awen shuddered. “It was, it was just a reflection,” she said. “But it was real, and it was me, and my family, and I was, I was myself, and they were happy.”

I hugged her closer. “It’s okay. Those mirrors are big fat meanies if all they do is hang things you really want before you.”

Awen sank into the hug. “Thank you, Broccoli. Really. You’re... good. You’re very good, and I’m really happy you’re here.”

I grinned. “I’m glad you’re here too,” I said before tightening my hug. “Do you think you’re ready to try again?”

“Awa, I don’t know?”

Amaryllis snorted. “Don’t be a fool. The risk isn’t worth it. You have some cloth in your backpack?”

“I do,” I said. I hoped my confusion showed because I didn’t know what to think of her non-sequitur.

“Then we’ll fashion her a blindfold. It’s a simple enough solution. You can lead her to the end.” Amaryllis gestured to the door opposite us.

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You almost walked off the edge there,” I said.

She huffed and crossed her wings. “I suppose I could tether myself to you. As demeaning as it is.”

We took a few minutes to get ready, but by the end all three of us were tied together with ropes around our waists. Awen held onto my hand too, just to help guide her, and she had a few pieces of cloth wrapped over her eyes.

“Everyone ready?” I asked.

“Let’s get it over with,” Amaryllis said.

I started walking. The smart thing to do, of course, would have been to stare straight ahead, or maybe at the bridge, ignoring all the mirrors as we walked past them. But I never claimed to be a very smart bun.

Orange padded out ahead of us, then paused to look at her reflection. I was worried for a moment, but then the cat started strutting even harder as if trying to show up her own reflection.

The first mirror showed the same image of me with my friends, but it didn’t appeal as much as it had even minutes before. As it was, my friends were right next to me, literally tied to me. If that didn’t trump mere reflections of smiles then nothing would.

The next mirror had me snorting as Sky Captain Bunch stood tall and proud on the deck of a big airship.

I shook my head and moved on. Some of the mirrors had me pausing. Me in a pretty dress in a large ballroom, or making snow-angels in a mountain of gold. They were really trying to pin exactly what I wanted, but were missing the mark.

Some, I had to admit, were just really neat. I looked kind of awesome wearing full-plate armour and carrying a sword as wide as I was; facing off against some dark monster while an orphanage’s worth of kids hid behind me.

Then I found my feet slowing down as I saw a reflection of myself. Not me as I currently was, but me as an older woman. Still spry, still smiling despite wrinkled skin and eyes that had gone a little cloudy with age. I was sitting on a rocking chair, a blanket over my lap. Pictures sat on the tables around my chair, of me and my friends as adults, of me next to young people that had to be my children.

I swallowed and pushed past. That was something I wanted one day, and it was something that would happen. I didn’t need to look into a mirror to know it.

“Oh,” Amaryllis said.

I looked to her, then to the mirror she was looking at.

My face flamed.

The Broccoli in the reflection was wearing... not much at all. And she was in the arms of a few young men and even some young women. Handsome people who were wearing oil and very tight britches and who all had very nice chins. They were dancing and flexing and--

I tugged the cord around Amaryllis’ waist and pulled her past that particular mirror. We both stared at our blushing faces and agreed not to talk about it.

I crossed mirrors of myself glowing in pride as I rubbed a swollen belly, and myself as a benevolent queen, and even myself hugging a handsome boy and, strangely enough, myself and Awen both in white dresses in front of an altar.

It kind of became a blur, but the long path to the end of the floor came closer and closer.

I still paused a bit at the mirror that showed me riding a dragon, not because I wanted to step off to my death, but because it was pretty darned cool to see. And then we were near the end.

I thought we were home free when I felt Amaryllis’ cord tightening. “Huh?” I asked.

She was staring at one of the mirrors, not with wanting but with confusion.

I looked into it to see myself in dark plate armour, riding atop a skeletal dragon at the head of an army of slaves about to assault a city. “I... think that one’s defective,” I said.

“Likewise,” Amaryllis said.

Reaching the end was a little anticlimactic. Compared to the room with the golems and the light puzzle devices, it had been a walk in the park. Though, perhaps that was unfair. The dungeon--if it could be spoken of as something sentient--had been clever, trying to use our own psyches against us. Clever, and mean.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

I let go of Awen’s hand, wiggled mine a bit to get rid of some of the handholding claminess, then opened the door leading back into the ravine.

“We’re free!” I said.

“Awa, we made it?” Awen asked.

I carefully pulled her blindfold off and let her see that we were out once more. “See,” I said.

She beamed at me, then flushed and looked away. “I’m sorry that you had to do that,” She said. “If I was stronger, then you woul--oww!”

I brought my hand up, still holding it flat above her head in the optimal pre-bonking position. “Don’t be so silly. We all have our weaknesses,” I said.

“Awa, but, but you don’t have any,” she said.

Amaryllis laughed. Not a ladylike giggle, or her pretty birdsong giggle, but a full on tummy laugh. “Oh world, that’s hilariously wrong on so many levels.”

“Mean,” I said, but I couldn’t hold back a bit of a chuckle. It was hard not to laugh when a friend was laughing, and the weight of stress being lifted after crossing that last floor was such a relief that it only made it easier to laugh.

Amaryllis wiped the back of a talon across her eyes. “We should keep moving. We still have a few more floors to get through.”

“Right!” I said. “As soon as we’re all ready.”

Awen nodded. “I, I’m ready,” she said.

“Cool!” I said.

We began our third trek across the ravine with a bit more confidence, though we still took our time and periodically tapped the glass bridge before us as we walked, just in case.

As with the last two floors, the third was blocked off by a large round door with the same mechanisms as the last. “I can’t remember what this floor is supposed to be,” I admitted.

“The boss floor, according to the compendium, but I believe that might have changed,” Amaryllis said. She pointed to the sides of the ravine. “There are two more bridges. That makes five.”

“So five floors then?” I wondered.

“Some dungeons have delve rooms that only work for the first few floors, there could be more.”

I hummed. “I hope not. I wouldn’t want to sleep next to these bridges, or in the dungeon at all if I can avoid it.”

“That’s more than fair,” Amaryllis said. “It’s only evening, we have a few hours to go before that becomes a worry, and even then, we can take a break after this floor to recuperate a little.”

“Awesome. Let’s get this one over and done with then!” I said as I raised my shovel in preparation to tackle the floor in a jiffy.

We opened the door, then stared into infinity.

I saw myself reflected back on every surface and from nearly every angle. It took a moment to notice the way the floor curved around and split off in a few directions.

“A mirror maze?” I wondered.

“I’m unfamiliar with the term, what is it?” Amaryllis asked.

I tried not to be too smug that I got to explain something for once. “It’s a maze, but the walls are all made of mirrors. It makes it harder to judge how far things are because you see a lot of reflections.”

“Brilliant,” Amaryllis said. “I suppose turning right at every juncture won’t work.”

“We could try turning left?” I said.

She whapped me behind the head with her wing. “Moron.”

“Awa, we could lay out some rope?” Awen said. “Or leave a mark on the glass?”

“That’s an idea,” I said. “Anyone have a sharpie?”

“A what?” Amaryllis asked. “No, nevermind. I have ink but I doubt it would stick to the mirrors. I think... one moment.”

The harpy stepped up to the mirrored wall ahead of us and brought a talon up. Little electrical sparks snapped around her hand as she swiped it across the mirror. It left black marks on the glass.

“That works,” I said. “So how do we actually navigate the maze?”

“That’s the easy part,” Amaryllis said. “We ask the most valuable member of the team for help.” She gestured off to the side.

We all turned to stare at Orange who paused in the act of cleaning herself to stare right back. Her little kitty expression seemed to say ‘why are you looking at me like that.’

“You’re going to have to explain that one for me,” I said. “I love Orange, but she’s usually more keen on sleeping than doing work.”

Orange nodded. It was probably just a strange tick though.

Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “She’s a spirit cat. Or a spirit kitten, as the case may be. You shouldn’t underestimate her abilities. She can phase through the walls, find the exit, then guide us to it. No one else in this party has such skill or talent, or even scratched the surface of what she can do. Truly she is the best of us.”

Amaryllis was... laying it on sort of thick. But one look at how Orange had puffed up at the praise suggested that maybe it was on purpose. “I suppose,” I said. “She is a nice kitty. Do you think we could convince her to help with scritches?”

Amaryllis scoffed. “Please, as if you know the first thing about caring for such a majestic creature. Look at your blunt little human fingers! You can’t scratch anything properly with those. I, on the other hand, have superior harpy breeding on my side. I’m certain a creature as glorious as Orange would sympathize with my cause.”

Orange looked between the two of us then, quite obviously, rolled her little kitty eyes and trotted off into one of the mirror-lined corridors.

“That worked?” I whispered over to Amaryllis.

“Don’t ruin it,” she said. “Come on, let’s finish up this floor.”

***