The door was plain, untreated wood but as the lock came undone, the air in the cellar changed, becoming thicker, headier. The lock slipped to the floor and Roshan took a step back, allowing Noran to open the door.

“No Light can enter the chamber,” Noran warned. “You’ll understand when we get in. I need my Knife. Therin,” he said, turning his blind eyes to his brother. Therin squeezed his hand again in response. “Get me a lantern. Stand in the doorway but do not enter. The wards are modelled after the ones Devan has at the monastery but reversed: if anyone that isn’t a witch enters, the trap is sprung. Light will also trigger the wards.”

“What will happen?” Therin asked, unhooking one of the weak, cold-lighted lanterns on the wall that had lit when they had descended the stairs.

“Hellhounds.” Noran answered, accepting the lantern from Therin and the dagger from Roshan.

“How many do they have here?” Roshan asked, his eyes wide with shock. “They are supposed to be all gone.”

“They aren’t true hellhounds. They…” Noran turned his head to the door, unseeing but listening. “We have to hurry. I’m sure they know we’re here.” He opened the door and entered the pitch black, his lantern held aloft. He descended a set of stairs, ten in total, and then his footsteps could be heard echoing on the flagstone floor.

Therin perched at the threshold, his hands braced on either side of the frame, as though to stop himself from following. He blinked in the dimness and looked around as best he could in the blue-white light, trying to see whatever possible before Noran instructed him where to look.

The chamber was wide and circular, the walls lined with hundreds of sparkling mirrors of various sizes, the smallest being about as big Noran’s torso, the tallest that Therin could see being taller than himself. The centre of the circular room was dominated by a circular cage, something glittering inside it. Noran swung the lantern slowly, letting Therin acquaint himself with the room.

“How far am I from the wooden table along the left side?” Noran called and his voice echoed eerily in the chamber.

“Two more steps then turn and go forward…stop.” Noran felt before him and set the lantern down on the wide table which was littered with bottles and other implements.

“I need…” he said but stopped himself, his hand landing on a huge jar, nearly knocking it over. He stuck his hand deep into the jar and pulled out a large, dark lump of something. In the weak lantern light, it glinted. Noran struck the object with his blade, drawing sparks across the wooden table. The sparks danced erratically then skipped to the candles lining the work surface, finding their way on their own. The extra light illuminated the room further, easing the ghostly weak light of the lantern. The lights were reflected a hundred times over in the mirrors, disorientating Therin as he cast his eye around again. He frowned in confusion at the enormous, gilt framed mirror in the cage in the centre of the room.

With the stone in one hand and his dagger in the other, Noran turned his back to the work table and took four even paces toward the centre, stopping before he got to the black bars of the cage.

“The front of the mirror should be facing the doorway, yes?” Noran asked and Therin confirmed. Nodding to himself, Noran walked the opposite direction, disappearing behind the mirror. Therin held his breath for several long seconds before he heard him strike the stone with his blade again and the sparks flitted like birds into the cold candles above the large mirror.

Noran said something in the hissing, rushing tongue he had used to open the door to the winery and Therin felt the hairs on his arms raise in response. Something clicked in the chamber, an audible noise that felt like something had released or unlocked and Therin heard Noran sigh in relief. A weird noiselessness descended and Therin realised for the first time that there had been a deep, low hum in the chamber that he could not have heard until it was gone.

A new sound replaced the deep hum, though and Therin realised with horror that the mirror in the centre was whispering his name in a hundred voices, some deep, some high, some slowed impossibly, some in a language he had never heard. The flesh along his neck and back writhed against the intrusion to his mind.

“Can either of you repress your Light entirely?”

“Yes,” said Roshan and Therin together. The bigger man turned and smiled weakly at the Blademaster.

“Do it and enter. We need to start breaking the mirrors and I can’t do it myself.”

“Is it safe now?” Therin asked hesitantly but he didn't move his arms from the doorframe, blocking the entrance. The mirror in the centre sparkled, the frame dotted with gemstones.

“For you to be in here yes, but the Light will react poorly to the mirrors. It could…” Noran paced from behind the mirror in the centre, his hand trailing along the bars of the cage. He approached the wall to the right of the entrance, his hands landing on the plain frame of a smaller mirror. “Refract strangely because of the magic used to turn these into portals. And it will most definitely trigger the trap.” He lifted the mirror from the wall and held it in his hands.

Roshan slipped under Therin’s arm and strode down the steps, having left his glaive outside the chamber.

“How do we break them?” He asked, lifting a mirror from the wall on the left of the door.

“The same as any mirror,” Noran said and he dropped the mirror, shattering it into a thousand sparkling shards. “Save the larger ones for last. I think we’ll have to lift them together.” He turned and reached for another small mirror as Roshan dropped the mirror he had picked up.

Therin entered the room, first checking his Light, stowing it carefully as he strode down the stairs. He went across the room, skirting the centre and the still-whispering mirror. He lifted a larger mirror, one nearly as tall as he was. With a roll of his broad shoulders, he heaved it, letting it crash and slide across the stones. The shards sparkled and he saw a soft purple glitter fade from the broken glass.

“What are these for?” the bigger man asked, watching the shards with interest.

“The largest are for travel. Usually short distances. That big one by the back of the chamber goes to Bloody Hawk Plateau. The other big one on the left wall will go to the Temple but it isn’t completed yet.”

They worked clockwise, each man lifting what he could and dropping the mirrors and soon the floor of the chamber was lined with a thick carpet of scintillating fragments, their boots grinding the glass to dust as they worked.

“How do these work?” Therin asked as he heaved the largest mirror he could lift alone. He grunted as he threw it.

“The mirror must be perfectly made, no imperfection in either the glass or the silver lining the back.” Noran answered as he dropped another mirror. “It can take a very long time to make even one. Once you have a perfect mirror you have to…” He faltered and turned his blindfolded face to where Therin’s voice had last come from. “A sacrifice is used to create a spirit and then you trap the spirit in the mirror.”

“I suppose the smaller ones use things like birds or squirrels?” Roshan asked as he lifted a small mirror and inspected the edges of it, peering at his face in the glass.

“Animal spirits make good scrying glasses.” Noran answered and he wiped sweat from his forehead. He had been restored, healed of his tortured wounds, but he was still thin and Therin wondered when the last time he had eaten was.

“So some of these are used for looking and watching, not travel.” Roshan said and Noran nodded.

“Does it take a lot of animals for the larger ones?” Therin asked, picking up another large one. The other two men stopped and turned to him as he heaved the mirror, the shards skittering in the piles of glass, the dusty purple glitter rising and fading as it was broken.

“No,” Noran said tightly and Roshan turned back to his section of the wall. “Not animals.”

“Then what makes a mirror into a portal that can be traversed…” He slowed as he spoke, the answer dawning on him. “No.”

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“Yes,” Noran said and his voice was hard and clipped. “Human spirits are the only way to make the portals.”

“So these…” Therin lifted a large mirror and stared into it. “These have souls trapped inside them?”

“They are no longer souls. They have been corrupted, abused…” Noran wiped more sweat and adjusted his blindfold. “They have been torn into their elemental properties, the Light sifted out and discarded.”

“But people were used in the making of these?”

“A witch can use their Knife to harvest souls, trapping them into the gemstones and then transferring them to a crucible where they are broken down and poured into the mirror. The room must be completely dark to do it.”

“Why do you know so much about how these are made?” the broad man asked, frowning.

“How do you think I gained Mara’s trust, Therin?” Noran’s voice was hard again, but it softened when he said his brother’s name.

“You made these,” Roshan said.

“Many of them, yes.”

“You harvested the souls,” the Blademaster said and Therin’s head snapped up, his eyes focused across the chamber onto the tall, thin man, the blindfold obscuring his silver grey eyes.

“Yes,” Noran admitted. “I did.”

The chill that ran across Therin was like a shadow moving across the sun and he shivered. Noran had said earlier that he had done terrible things as Mara’s apprentice. He had as good as admitted to this heinous act, but somehow hearing it aloud was horrifying.

“Why?” he heard himself asking and he was ashamed of the anger that coloured the word.

“Why?” Noran repeated, incredulous. Therin drew in a deep breath, careful to keep the Light at bay, stilling the anger in himself. “Because it was that or let her destroy you. What part of that are you not understanding?”

“I just don’t know why someone would stain their soul like this for someone else.”

“Then I pray to whoever is left to hear my words that you will never love someone the way I did.” The words made Therin uncomfortable, even with his brother’s eyes blindfolded, and he merely grunted and turned back to his task.

Finally, all the mirrors were shattered, leaving only the two largest on the wall and the centre mirror. The largest of the three, the caged, gilt-edged mirror, had ceaselessly whispered Therin’s name as he had worked, becoming a strange background noise that had started to feel like a gentle caress against his mind. They stood before the one that Noran had said would allow passage to the Temple of Morinn.

“How would a witch use it to travel?” Roshan asked as he ran a hand around the thick wooden frame. “I have an idea, but I’m unsure if my guess is correct.”

“The largest must be attuned to by the witch wishing to use the portal. That means that a single gemstone carrying a sliver of the soul that had been used to create the portal must be on their person, usually inserted in a socket on their blade. My own Knife,” Noran said, lifting the poorly made one he carried, “has four blank sockets for this purpose. This borrowed Knife has none, but the pommel stone is a kind of blank, general purpose attunement stone. It’s currently attuned to the portal to Bloody Hawk.”

“Where is your blade?” Therin asked.

“I told you. Erin’s shade was in the pommel and Mara took it from me to summon it. The Knife is kept hidden since she summoned her mistress. The shade is weak and vulnerable but it draws power from me.” He gestured to his body, thin and shaking. “She will never have a body until all of her stones are returned to her, even with the power of Shadesorrow at their fingertips.”

“I’m assuming your usual blade is attuned to these three portals?” Roshan asked as he stepped back away from the mirror before them.

“These two, yes. The one behind us…” Noran turned and even though he could not see, he craned his head up to the tall mirror in the centre. “That is Shadesorrow’s personal portal. Erin crafted that one while she was still alive, before she split her soul. Shadesorrow needs no attunement as it was made with a powerful soul. A paladin’s soul.”

The words struck a bell in Therin and he felt as though he should understand the implication of them. Instead, he stood frowning.

“Why a paladin?” Roshan asked but Therin felt another truth building, as though his subconscious was racing ahead of him and he had yet to catch up.

“I think it might have less to do with the fact that it was a paladin. I think it was that he was a good man. He had people who loved him, who he loved. That seems to temper a soul, make it easier to break down in the crucible. It’s as though being selfless, loving selflessly, somehow cleans the spirit and makes the process easier. It just so happened that this pure soul was a paladin.” Noran’s voice was low and reverential, as though he was in awe of the process or perhaps in deference to the sacrificed human that had been lost to create the portal before him.

“A paladin who…perhaps…loved his wife and daughter would be especially pure, then.”

Noran turned and faced his brother, his blind eyes still somehow seeing through the taller man.

“Yes,” said the witch and he could hear the sorrow lacing his words.

“Like Galvyn.”

“Yes.” The hush that followed the words only served to make the whispers from the portal louder, Therin’s name a strange chorus of rushing whispers in his ears.

“Why does it whisper my name?” He asked suddenly.

“Your name?” Noran asked and despite the blindfold, Therin could see that he was frowning. “It’s…whispering to you?”

Therin nodded but recalled that he could not see him and answered.

“Yeah. In…many voices. Many languages but I understand that it’s my name.”

“What about you, Roshan? Can you hear anything?”

“No,” said the Blademaster bluntly and Noran shook his head.

“I’m not sure,” Noran admitted and he shrugged. “Perhaps the soul can sense your Light. I’m unsure.” He repeated and turned back to the portal on the wall, indicating help to remove the huge mirror. Together they lifted it and set it on the floor, Therin stabilising the huge slab of glass with his bulk as the other two circled behind it.

“On the count of three, we shove and hope that the weight of it alone will be enough to shatter the glass,” Noran said and the other two agreed.

“One, two, three!” They shoved and the glass swung forward, slowly, and with a spectacular crash of glittering shards, the portal collapsed. Briefly, the air seemed to be sucked out of the chamber, all sound gone, their breaths catching in their throats. A deep rumble sounded around the room, as though the walls themselves were displeased. The other portal across the chamber shook dangerously.

As the purple glitter faded, the air seemed to come back and they gasped collectively. Therin stumbled as his breath tore into him again, falling to his knees. Belatedly, he remembered the glass-covered floor and he swore as the shards tore into his knees, drawing blood. Without thinking, he let the Light flood his body, sealing the cuts instantly. As he stood, dusting his hands, the Light fading from his skin, the chamber rumbled again. Noran cocked his head, listening.

“You used the Light,” he hissed, rounding on Therin.

“I fell– Oh. Oh, shit.” The rumbling echoed again, the mirror across the way rattling dangerously, nearling toppling this time.

“Quickly!” Noran screamed and he dashed forward. “Before they come!”

The portal in the centre of the room was now glowing, sparks of bright purple swirling around it. A strange howling, like the angriest of wind, surrounded them. The three of them surged forward, both Therin and Roshan heading for the door but Noran had deviated, heading toward the last intact portal.

“Leave it!” Therin shouted but Noran ignored him.

A deep bellowing howl pierced their ears and a hound erupted from the centre portal, slithering between the iron bars with eerie ease.

Therin spun, his feet sliding in the glass shards. His eyes darted from the hound to his brother, struggling to remove the portal from the wall. He did a double take though, his eyes landing on the beast.

This was not like the one they had fought off earlier.

This hound was dark green and covered in writhing, thorny vines, its bright green leaves twining and slithering across its body, tipped in a bright autumnal red. Its eyes were emerald sparks, reminding Therin of something.

“What the–”

“Help me!” Noran shrieked.

Therin and Roshan turned as one and sprinted forward, both of them falling on the glass, their feet unstable on the thick carpet of shards. Brushing the slivers out of his palms, blood seeping from the tiny cuts, Therin struggled forward. He turned as Roshan shouted, a vine wrapped around his leg, pulling him toward the gaping jaws of the beast.

The broad man spun, sliding on the glass and made his way to the trapped Blademaster. As he neared the other man, Therin grasped a large shard, the glass cutting into his fingers and palm as he gripped it. He swung the makeshift blade, slicing the vine clear of Roshan’s leg. He grabbed the fallen man’s arm, hauling him to his feet. He flashed Light along his hands, healing the cuts.

Another deep rumble issued from the portal and a second green hound bound out of the portal, his jaws snapping, yipping in pain as it slid on the glass. Therin watched the mirror on the wall above Noran shake again, coming loose from its place, toppling forward.

Therin swung Roshan before him, propelling him forward toward Noran. Sliding, slipping, falling, Therin chased after, the mirror falling slowly.

“Watch out!” Therin shouted, aware that Noran had no idea that the portal had come undone from the wall and was swinging forward. Roshan threw himself into Noran, knocking him down. Therin followed soon after, covering them both with his bulk as the portal toppled, waiting for the smash of the heavy glass on his back. Instead, a bright purple light enveloped them, his body somehow falling away despite the feel of Roshan and Noran beneath him.

Distantly, Therin heard the mirror shatter and blackness took him.

When the dust had settled, and the glass had stopped tinkling, the chamber was empty save for the two hounds, snuffling confusedly at where their prey had just been a second before.