Aria blinked. Tears filled her eyes, not because she’d been crying but because she’d had her eyes half-opened, staring at a dim light. And, someone kept putting false tears in there.

Aria wiped at her face and closed her eyes.

“Aria.” Gavain’s voice sounded nearby. “She’s awake. I owe Hagen a bunch of drinks.”

Aria blinked fast and stared up at Gavain. The festival lights dotted the ceiling, looking out of place against the hospital lighting.

Aria sat up fast, and Gavain grabbed her shoulders.

Aria asked, “Where’s Pan?”

“Still asleep,” Sotir said.

Flower petals skittered below Aria’s bed, and Sotir stood just out of their path beside a bed where Pan lay.

“What’s happening?”

“You glimpsed the mirror,” Sotir said. “You were all pulled into a dream. You’re the first to wake up, and I don’t think it has much to do with Hagen, does it?” Sotir glanced at Pan.

Aria shook her head. “I didn’t even see Hagen.” She glanced at a chair where Hagen seemed to sleep.

In fact, he worked. His aura gleamed in white.

He would work to wake the others up, but Aria had someone looking out for her.

Pan growled. How come Aria got to leave, and Pan was stuck? How come Pan couldn’t just conjure her own path to freedom?

Try as she might, it didn’t work. Pan closed her eyes and painted herself a picture of the Ischyros and Sotir. It was a warm, beautiful thing. It gave her the fuzzy feeling. She opened her eyes and found herself still in the cell.

Worse yet, her voice had flown, along with Aria. She called for help, and no sound came out.

Pan sat on the edge of the bunk and hung her head. She remained that way for a long, long time, not even bothering to think of other places she might escape to.

From outside the door, Pan heard a clunk. She raised her head. She heard hurried steps, and they came all the way to her cell.

“Stand back, little reaper!”

Pan pressed herself against the wall. She curled into a ball and covered her head.

The door burst open. Pan heard it more than saw because she was so busy cowering.

“It’s alright,” a woman said. “You’re with us now.”

Slowly, Pan took her arms from her face. Dust floated through the air. Before her stood Cesarina and Merig. Both had the white hair once required of a potential reaper. Cesarina had a powerful build, and Merig’s was slight.

“We’re gonna take care of you now. We’re gonna make sure you get treated like you should,” Merig promised. He waved for her to join them.

Pan hesitated.

Merig beckoned again. “Come on. Come on out of there.” He bent his knees a little as if coaxing a pet out of its hiding place.

Panphila slid off the bunk and got to her feet.

Cesarina grinned. “That’s right. Come here. Poor thing. You don’t have to be good anymore. We promise.”

Pan frowned. She stepped slow, but she moved toward them. When she reached the door, Merig put an arm around her, and Cesarina gave her a warm, carefree smile.

“Now, let’s go find some arcanes,” Merig said.

With Merig on one side and Cesarina on another, Pan let them guide her. A few short steps later, they exited the jail into the Scaldin night.

Cesarina leaned over to the other two and asked, “What are you looking for? Anything specific?” Cesarina’s eyes shifted over the nighttime landscape. “I’m looking for something a bit rare. Maybe, I’ll get me one of those new aura readers.”

Pan bristled.

Merig laughed. “Know one?” He reached into a back pocket and pulled a small mask into view. It would cover Merig’s face, with a detailed rendition of Sotir’s features. Merig said, “I already found my rare power for the day. I just had to wait for this guy to give up his last breath.”

Pan snatched the mask. She stared at Sotir’s emotionless copy then pressed it to her chest.

“Hey, hey now. Get your own.” Merig tried to snatch the mask out of Pan’s hands.

She pulled back.

“Oh, Merig. That one was her lover or something. You goofed.” Cesarina hit Merig on the chest.

“Oops. I didn’t know.” Merig’s sympathy passed thinly across his eyes. He scowled. “No hard feelings?” He reached slow.

Pan took another step back.

“I’m sorry, but you know, it’s still mine.” Merig stepped forward and tried to grab the mask again.

Pan slapped his bony hand.

“Ow.” Merig rubbed his knuckles.

Cesarina laughed. “She’s gonna fight you for it.”

Pan looked between the two reapers. Their messy white hair blew in the wind. Cesarina’s was long. Merig’s wasn’t much shorter. They resembled each other in all but expression. Cesarina wore bemusement; Merig showed determination and annoyance. Both ugly expressions from where Pan stood.

“You know.” Merig stared at Pan as he spoke, but his words were for Cesarina. “I think you’re right. She wants it too bad.”

Cesarina smiled wider. “Reaper fight.”

“Pan, don’t do it.”

The three reapers whipped in the direction of the voice.

Little Pan stood just ahead of Brynn and the other animals. Little Pan’s head wobbled, held on by a blue ribbon. She grabbed her head and held it steady. “Please, consider others.”

Pan held Sotir’s face for the animals and Brynn to see. Pan was considering others. She considered what they’d done to her man.

The animals stared with blank expressions, but Brynn showed the proper emotions, shock and a bit of sadness.

“Pan,” Brynn said. “I know it’s disappointing...”

Disappointing! It was a hell of a lot more than that.

Pan pulled the mask back to her breast. She turned to the reapers, just in time to see them put on some other faces.

“Pan, you haven’t got a face to use,” Brynn warned.

No, Pan didn’t have the powers and the persons she’d taken. She had something better. She had the circles, with no middleman to weigh on her conscience.

I am not a reaper.

Pan cast the only circle that she did well and had never reaped. It glowed in the air above her and spewed smoke. The dragon flew out of it and coiled around Pan.

Now, Brynn backed away. Merig and Cesarina did the same.

In fact, Merig started running and didn’t stop.

“You coward!” Cesarina shouted. She wore some other woman’s face, and fire moved around her. “Alright, it’s mine then. I’ll read the past, present, and future. Merig can be screwed.”

Fire began to wind around Pan’s dragon.

The dragon nudged Pan onto its head and flipped her onto its back. Pan grabbed fur, and they jumped into the air, just as Cesarina’s fire found the spot they’d been.

Brynn stared up from the ground. She started an illusion. Fluffy pink clouds surrounded Pan’s dragon. The clouds took over the air space and hid the ground from Pan. Beautiful baubles lay among the clouds. The familiar reached for a bauble and got not only the prize but also a handful of sticky pink cloud matter.

The familiar made a face and shook the sticky pink off. It tried to keep the bauble, but that got shaken away too.

Pan hit the flank of her familiar. She didn’t understand Brynn’s illusion. Was Brynn’s aim to hide Pan from Cesarina, while showing Pan some version of the afterlife to comfort her about Sotir’s loss? Or, was Brynn’s aim to get Pan to give back the stolen power. After all, Pan couldn’t use it anymore.

The illusion changed. Cesarina laughed from below.

Pan and her dragon flew through a thin corridor of inky spikes. Spikes blocked the sky above, below, and all around. The spikes dripped, and one fell, scraping her dragon’s face. The others jiggled. The dragon pulled Pan from its back and held her in its arms, wrapping tight around her. Meanwhile, Pan wrapped herself tight around Sotir’s stolen essence.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Pan remained safe inside the dragon’s embrace, but she felt the dragon tense and heard it scream. A moment later they half-fell, half-flew to the ground. The dragon spread itself out and let Pan go.

“That’s how you do an illusion,” Cesarina called to Brynn.

Brynn gestured above. “You think such dark imagery will be a turn off to Pan? You don’t know this girl. You haven’t seen what she draws.”

Cesarina laughed and sent a wave of fire to Brynn.

At that moment, Pan decided that Brynn was on her side. She pushed herself to her feet and cradled Sotir’s mask in one arm. She conjured her portal circle and dropped it before Brynn. The portal swallowed the fire and sent it into some distant underbrush.

The brush emitted a squeal. Merig hopped out of a bush and rolled along the ground to quench the flames that had found him.

Cesarina laughed louder.

Pan checked for Brynn’s reaction, but Brynn was gone, teleported probably. Pan’s head whipped back to Cesarina, and there she also found Brynn, hiding behind the white-haired reaper.

At point blank, Brynn shoved Cesarina telekinetically, and Cesarina flew threw what was left of the fire, ash and smoke. Mid fall, Cesarina switched her mask to a new face. This face had belonged to a man. He had been a telekinetic, and Pan knew because she watched as Cesarina caught herself mid-air and flipped back to land on her feet.

Pan’s view whipped back to Brynn, and she finally noticed the mask that Brynn wore. It was strangely familiar, but it shouldn’t be. Brynn had taken all her powers before Pan was even born. Brynn took them from dying children, whose faces hardly mattered in the grand scheme of Scaldin history.

Cesarina gestured to Pan but shouted at Brynn. “You wanted her to be a reaper as much as I. Vicarious living and all that.”

Brynn switched her mask.

Cesarina did the same and once again sent fire for Brynn.

Brynn had guessed the right mask. She shaped a wall of ice ahead of her. Steam rose from the ice. It caught all the fire.

Pan heard a growl and saw a shadowed shape at her side. A claw tapped the object in her arm. She stared down at Sotir’s expressionless face.

Oh yes, revenge.

Pan waved her dragon forward, and it surged into the battle between Brynn and Cesarina.

But, something didn’t feel right.

Pan watched her dragon rear up between the two women. With one wing, it blocked a spout of fire. It whirled, and its tail smashed Brynn’s tower of ice to shards.

“Hey!” Brynn scolded.

Pan let the dragon and her old mentor work through it on their own. She stared down at the mask and held his stolen face in both hands. Her thumb caressed the surface, where his cheekbone ought to lie. All was smooth as polished stone. She didn’t feel the shape or texture of his face.

Merig was a scavenger, so how did he come upon a dying Sotir? What had been her man’s undoing?

Pan also wondered: had Merig really fled the scene?

She whirled, just in time to meet Merig. He wore no mask and raised a club of salvaged wood. As he brought the wood down, Pan raised her arms to block. Wood met mask, and the mask shattered.

Sotir’s face fell to pieces, and dust scattered, caught by the wind.

Pan stared at the broken face. Merig stared at the ruined power. Both their mouths hung open.

Had Merig just killed Sotir a second time? Let his ghost fade from what meager afterlife seemed to exist?

Merig swore.

Pan let the shards fall. She cast a quick telekinetic ring and the club flew to her hands.

Solid wood hit her palm. It felt fuzzy, like a good source of splinters. Pan wrapped her fingers around the club and swung it at Merig.

He tried to get one of his masks on, but she smashed it out of his hands. Another face went to pieces. Another power gone. That was all he cared about anyway.

Merig backpedaled and pulled a different mask from his pocket. He raised it to his face, but Pan conjured her portal circle, right where his face should be, just before he planted the mask. The mask fell into the portal, and Merig yelped. Pan’s dying portal had taken some of the skin off his fingers.

Pan swung the club again. Merig dodged. He had to turn his back on her, and Pan saw his back pocket, where another of the masks peeked, curled in an impossible manner.

Pan swung for it, but Merig pulled the mask free. It unfurled and showed the face of Spyridoula, another of Pan’s dead mentors.

As Merig spun to face her, she swiped for the familiar face and missed. Merig raised the mask to his features. Pan didn’t have time to swing the weapon at him again, so she jumped on him and grabbed the mask.

Both fell to the ground, and both held the mask. Pan’s fingers curled around the back and strained to pull it free from him. His fingers, possibly the strongest part of him, strained likewise and pulled the mask towards his face. He hooked one index finger through an eye; then, the other. His improved grip coupled with his superior upper body strength inched the mask closer. Its surface met his face, and Pan found herself moving at the speed of a car.

Her long, dark hair streamed around her and blocked the speed blurred scenery from view. His white mane streamed behind him. That and Spy’s face were all Pan saw.

She wished for her dragon. Instead, hands of a more Scaldin nature grabbed her just beneath her arms and whisked her from the disorienting speed. Pan glanced around to find Hagen. He gave her a short wave. Then, he looked away. She frowned at him, but he wasn’t looking. It was a wasted expression. Pan searched the direction that captured Hagen’s attention.

She whirled just in time to see Merig splat against a brick wall. The wall had no right to be there. It was barely four feet across and only a little more than six feet high. It had no building to call home, and nothing to block from view or access.

Pan laughed; though, she made no sound.

“I thought you’d like that,” Hagen said, with a smile. His smile faded fast. “He’s not done yet, though.”

Merig began to peel himself off the wall. As he staggered back from the brick, his mask fell from his face, in little pieces of crumbled porcelain.

Hagen watched Merig. “Alright. How to solve this…?”

Pan knew. She called her dragon. A furred, dark streak plowed into Merig.

“No, Pan!” Hagen grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face him. This time he got to see her frown. In spite of her anger, Hagen held her firm. “What do you think is the solution to this situation? More violence? That’s thinking like a reaper. And, you are not a reaper anymore.”

Pan felt her frown leave her face. She wasn’t a reaper. She didn’t need those masks, and she didn’t need the powers of others. She had every power available to her, so long as she did the work to learn the circles. But, she damn well needed the violence.

Pan gestured at Merig. Her reaper opponent wore a new mask. Nearby, her dragon shook defeat from its fur and began to roll to its feet.

“Yeah, he’s going to attack us again. But, fighting him is a distraction. It doesn’t help you win,” Hagen said.

Merig spread his arms. He crackled, and lightning shot from all around his person. It was a rare power.

The dragon sped to their rescue. It curled around Hagen and Pan. With unfurled wing, it caught the lightning. The dragon grimaced. Then, it relaxed.

Butterflies fluttered over and under the familiar’s wing. Pan and her familiar exchanged one confused glance. Both looked to Hagen.

“Good. Now that I have your full attention… It’s a dream,” Hagen said. “And, I think staying here and fighting with them is how you get trapped forever. But, since we’ve got a dream invader on hand, namely me. We don’t have to stay. I just need you to give it up.” Hagen gestured around them, and a vague feeling of emptiness seemed to wait where he indicated.

Pan didn’t look.

“Just relax, and don’t work against me.” Hagen stared down.

Beneath Pan and the dragon, a great stone slid aside. The dragon startled and moved its foot.

Hagen pointed into a dark sewer hole. “Come on.”

Pan gestured somewhere beyond the wing. She wanted to say that Merig had killed Sotir. As Sotir’s good friend, Hagen should be just as angry as her to get revenge, especially when Hagen found out that Sotir’s very essence had been shattered, possibly from existence. But, how to tell him?

Pan had no voice. When she dreamed, she thought she usually had a voice.

Hagen sat over the hole and dangled his legs inside. “I can get you out of here. You’re not set up to win.”

Pan frowned.

“Come on.” He sighed. “I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t think of you like them, not anymore. You’re not exactly the standard reaper. I can see a little of what Sotir likes about you now.”

At Sotir’s name, Pan gestured wildly back towards the fight. Merig had been silent for what felt like ages, but he wouldn’t leave her alone for long.

“I know. I know. They killed Sotir, but that’s only a dream. You know I’m a dream invader. You know you wouldn’t see me anywhere else. When have I ever sought you out?” Hagen stared. He seemed to wait for an answer, but since he got none, he went on, “Sotir’s death is only a fear you have.” Hagen reached for Pan but didn’t take her hand. “He’s alright. Right now, you’re not. Come one.”

Pan paused. She believed him. It was certainly a dream. He had turned lightning to butterflies, and he should never have that kind of power. She glanced over her shoulder to find her familiar just as reluctant. She didn’t want to leave so much of the storyline undone. At the very least, she should kill Merig.

“Come with me, and you can see Sotir and Aria. You can cuddle with all those stuffed animals you use to supplement your lack of Scaldin contact. You can have food. Maybe, cake.” Hagen touched her wrist.

Pan turned angry eyes on him.

“Look, I promised him I’d get you back.”

Pan sat quickly and slid into the hole.

They floated in darkness. Pan couldn’t tell if they went up or down. Little bits of dark glass seemed to be in the air. They glittered and pretended to be stars. Hagen, Pan, and the dragon drifted in the beautiful mess.

“Are we going up or down?” she asked.

“Depends on how you look at it? If you think of it as being underwater, we’re going up. If you think of it as being stuck in the clouds, we’re going down.” Hagen nodded at a far-off scene. “If you think of it as a dream, we’re going out.”

Pan’s eyes widened. She saw several vignettes, nested inside each other. She saw Scaldigir and the somewhat familiar gothic architecture of Groaza. She saw a snowy tundra.

“I’m your friend,” Hagen said.

“That’s a non sequitur.” Pan gave him a narrow-eyed glare.

“With my kind of context, not really.”

The dragon dissolved in the air, and Pan watched it go. She felt Hagen take her hand and startled.

“At the very least, I’m his friend, and I’m keeping my promise of getting you conscious. Now, don’t let go. Keep this easy.” Hagen looked down. “Who knew you’d be one of the easier ones to rescue?”

With that loaded statement, they landed hard on the deck of the Halfmoon.

Camellia jumped, but only because Meladee and Eva both jumped.

Meladee’s alto squeal died. “The fuck you doing here, Hagen? What’s your circle again? I can’t remember, but I seem to recall you’re a wimp. Glad we found you, Pan. We thought we were the only three left on the ship.”

Camellia had struggled to stay in the dream, waiting for Hagen to give the signal. Now, she could help get everyone out.

“So, we leaving or what?” Meladee crossed her arms.

“Yes!” Camellia straightened. “We’re not aboard Halfmoon. This is the Obsidian mirror. We’re in a dream. One big dream together.” Camellia gestured to Hagen. “He’s here because he’s a dream invader.”

“Yes,” Hagen breathed. “That’s it. This is a shallow place. Just wake up. You’re free.”

Eva and Meladee exchanged a glance.

“Shit,” Meladee said. “I would never look at that thing. Like, I know I said I would, but…”

“We didn’t have a choice,” Camellia prodded. “Remember how the ship’s screen malfunctioned?”

Meladee frowned. “No.”

“Uh oh.” The small sound came from Hagen.

“I don’t dream,” Eva insisted. “I didn’t dream before, when Ul’thetos pulled us in. I would never fall prey to a dream from that thing.”

Hagen reached for Eva. “Well, you dream different, but you do dream. You just need to realize it’s not real. I think that will get you right out.”

Eva scowled. “How can it not be real? Nothing is out of the ordinary.”

Camellia perked up. “Well, then you won’t mind getting ready to go on stage.”

“The fuck…” Meladee took a step back.

“Yes stage.” Camellia’s clothes changed to an outfit of black. She held up a guitar. “We’re in a hard rock band remember.” She couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched the reactions on everyone’s faces. “I’m the lead guitarist. Pan is the lead singer. Meladee is bass, and Eva…you’re on drums.”

Their clothes changed too, becoming black and tight fitting.

Eva startled, and Meladee stared down her body, checking out the outfit.

Pan fingered her jacket and studied it. Purplish shadow created a smokey effect around her eyes on her usually makeup-less face. Camellia imagined the same must be on her own usually bare skin.

Pan looked up. “Aria’s on the keyboard. Don’t forget.”

“Oh yes. Aria on the keyboard.” Camellia nodded once.

A keyboard, complete with stand, materialized, and so did a stand in for Aria.

“This is…a dream.” Meladee shrugged. She started to fade. “Sure is radical, though. Hey, we should…”

Pan started to fade too. She wore a slight smile. As she faded, so did the stand in for Aria but not the keyboard.

Camellia faced Eva. “Do you believe us?”

“I’m dreaming.” Eva dropped her drumsticks. They clattered to the floor. Slowly, she faded.

Hagen gave a short laugh. “Nice touch.” He gestured to Camellia. “Now you. I can’t go, until you all get out.”

Camellia nodded and finally let herself go. She nodded her thanks to Hagen, though she could thank him again when she woke.