Even in death, Garen confused and surprised Siria. She wandered through the house that her childhood friend had owned for the better part of the last decade. Even though he died young, only in his mid thirties, the house was filled with the accumulations of a lifetime.

Garen had always been an oddity. In recent years he spent more time traveling out of the country than he did at home. It was one of the things she resented about him. He often professed that she was his best friend, but he rarely shared details of his travels, and she had never even visited his home before. He would just say "Hey Siria, I'm going to be gone for a few months, can I drop off Monty with you?" She would agree because she loved that dog. That and Garen had helped her out financially a few times in the past. Hell, if it wasn't for him, she would have never graduated college.

Now Monty, the clever Miniature American Eskimo, was hers. She didn't mind that. It made sense. The house on the other hand was more than she had expected. When Garen's lawyer read his will, it stated that all his worldly possessions would go to Siria. She had been even more shocked to find out that the house was entirely paid off, and Garen had even set up a trust fund to ensure she never lacked for money or blew it all too quickly. He knew she wasn't always the most careful spender.

That whirlwind of news had overwhelmed the emotions about the death of her friend. She was sad that he was gone, sad that she had never had a chance to properly thank him for everything he had done, and sad that she had never told him that he was just as much a friend to her as she was to him.

The walls were covered with masks, beaded tapestries, and all kinds of other tribal looking items. There were books written in languages she couldn't understand and furniture that was nearly impossible to sit in.

"Why did he buy this?" she asked Monty.

The fluffy white dog jumped up onto what she assumed was the seat of the…chair? The dog slid off immediately, unable to find purchase. The seat was at a weird angle, and the chair didn't have a back, just a single arm that extended out two feet in one direction.

"Maybe you can lay on it? Is it for massages or something?"

Monty didn't have the answers she was looking for. She moved on, continuing to look through the house. She had no idea what she was going to do with everything. She couldn't keep all the stuff, but she didn't want to just throw away the things Garen had loved.

Saria found more things she didn't recognize. A closet filled with what looked like medieval weaponry. A small room filled with what she would describe as 1960s futuristic looking contraptions with vacuum tubes, big buttons, tape reels, and tiny screens.

The house was big, bigger than her two bedroom apartment in Seattle, anyway. It was on the other side of the Puget Sound, so it wasn't exactly convenient for her to commute to and from work, but it wasn't impossible either. Free was free, and she had decided she would try to make this house her home. She thought Garen would have appreciated that.

As she explored the house's two full stories, she encountered something she didn't usually see in the area — a set of stairs leading down into a basement. She wasn't an expert and didn't know why there weren't many basements in the pacific northwest, but this was a relative rarity. Like the rest of the house, the basement was filled with junk.

Okay, the rest of the house was filled with stuff. The basement though, that was filled with junk. Broken machinery that she didn't recognize. What appeared to be smashed marble statues. There were barrels in a corner. They were sealed, and a crowbar sat on the ground next to them.

"What is all this junk?" she asked Monty.

She turned when she didn't feel him rub her leg. He always did that when she asked him something. She found him looking down at her from the top of the stairs. He barked at her.

"Don't like the stairs, buddy? It's okay, I'll come back up soon!"

The barrels would have to wait. She definitely didn't want to open them if there was something perishable inside. Her parents were coming over tomorrow, and maybe they could figure it out.

She finally reached the back wall of the basement. It was entirely hidden from the front of the room, so she hadn't seen the lone vault door in the middle of it.

"What the heck did you need a bank vault for? I doubt it's full of money, he left plenty of that in that trust fund."

It was a, presumably, thick metal door with a single huge combination lock set into the center, and a large metal handle on the side. It was the full height of the basement, around seven feet, and about the same width, by Siria's estimation.

She hadn't been given any information about the combination. Garen was a pretty simple guy, he liked the idea of security, but the practical implementation was a weak point. She had years of evidence on this point, but the most recent example were the post-it notes with passwords written on them next to the computer upstairs.

She tried Garen's birthday. The dial had one hundred tiny numbers on it, so it was possible. She spun out the numbers.

"Nine, nine, eighty-seven," she pulled the lever next to the dial. Nothing happened.

"Well, I'm not going to waste all day figuring that out."

She turned around and jumped when she found Monty sitting on the floor behind her. He barked again.

"Hey Monty! You came down the stairs! Who's a good boy? You are!"

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She rubbed his head affectionately.

He shook himself off and walked past her, up to the bank vault. He scratched at the door like he wanted to go inside.

"You want to go in there? Is that where Garen kept your treats?"

She looked at Monty and then looked back at the dial.

"I guess one more try wouldn't hurt. Let's see… eleven, eight, fourteen. Who needs all those big numbers anyway?"

She pulled on the lever, and this time it moved with a click!

"We're in! Watch out, bud."

She started pulling open the door with the huge handle on the side.

Once the door was open far enough, she could see inside. It was a large vault with several pedestals, and something covered with a cloth at the back of the room.

She walked in and examined the pedestals.

They came up to her chest. There were five of them, each one topped with a glass display case. The first one had a single sheet of worn paper in it.

"What the hell? How is that floating?"

The yellowed and slightly crumpled paper was slowly spinning in place. As the front came into view, she saw five simple words written on it.

"Do not trust the Mirror. What the hell does that mean? Like, does it add ten pounds or something? It's not like mirrors eat people or something."

Monty was glued to her leg. He didn't like being in here, but he seemed too scared to leave alone.

"It's okay buddy. We'll leave in a minute."

She had to see what the other pedestals held. She would die of curiosity if she didn't.

The second item was not floating. It was a simple golden bangle, with a gap where it could stretch to fit over a hand. It was inscribed with a script she couldn't read.

"Didn't peg you for the jewelry type, Garen."

The third container had two items that made Siria uncomfortable. A syringe filled with a silvery liquid, and a note written on ordinary copy paper that said "Escape."

"Okay that's just fucking creepy."

The fourth container had a sleek leather belt. She didn't find anything about it remarkable.

The fifth and final pedestal was topped with a book.

"Path of Mirrors."

She had a sneaking suspicion what was hidden under the cloth at the back of the room. She was equally sure she didn't want to find out if she was right.

"I don't know what you were doing in here Garen, but this is creeping me the fuck out."

A sudden bark made Siria jump, and she accidentally bumped into the last pedestal. She tried to scrabble and catch it, but it smashed to the floor, the glass display case shattering. Monty sprinted away from the sudden mayhem.

"Dammit Monty! You scared the crap out of me. Be careful, that glass might be sharp."

She bent over and picked up the book.

The air around her seemed to hum with energy. She looked around, trying to find the source of the strange humming.

"Monty! Time to go!"

Siria turned to see Monty trying to dig his way out of the cloth at the back of the room. He had pulled it off of a giant mirror, or it had fallen on him in his haste to escape.

The mirror was as wide as the room, and nearly as tall. The edges had strange figures carved into them. They were alien and were somewhat uncomfortable to look at. The reflection of the room was oddly distorted, like a funhouse mirror.

The humming faded into the back of her awareness as she looked into the mirror. She moved and watched her average proportions stretch into a tall lean figure, and then a short broad one. When she found a spot where she looked basically normal, she checked her hair. There were a few more grays in the otherwise black locks than she would have liked.

"I think you just gave me a few more, buddy."

Monty had finally bested the cloth and was now displaying his superiority by digging into the gray material and shaking it in his muzzle.

She smiled at him and shook her head. She turned back to the mirror.

"How did he even get this down here? It must weigh a ton. And why would he…" she trailed off when she noticed something.

In the reflection, all five pedestals were standing up. She turned around and found only four standing, with one broken, a book in her hand.

She turned back.

Five pedestals standing…no book in her hand.

The book wasn't in the reflection. It looked like she was holding nothing.

Her reflection smiled at her.

Siria fell backwards and scrambled away, her reflection not following suit.

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!"

As she watched frozen in pure panicked horror, her reflection walked back to the pedestal with the syringe. She opened the case and picked it up, then she turned back towards Siria. The other Siria winked before plunging the syringe into her neck.

The mirror cracked. She couldn't see any reflections in it anymore.

"Oh god. What the hell was that? Maybe there's a gas leak and I'm hallucinating. That seems right. Come on Monty! Monty?"

She looked around the vault. No Monty. Just five pedestals.

Five…standing pedestals.

She sprang to her feet.

The pedestal with the syringe was open, and it was gone. All the other pedestals were still there, untouched and unmoved.

The vault door was blocking her view of the basement.

"Maybe Monty ran out of here, like I should have. I'm definitely hallucinating."

She squeezed back out of the vault door and didn't find herself in a basement. She was in a dark, damp cave. It wasn't a very long cave. She walked out into the blinding sunlight. When her eyes cleared, she found herself in the middle of a desert filled with massive sand dunes. Nothing and no one as far as her eyes could see.