<<< Go back to Mirror, Mirror He gasped in pain when someone gently shook him awake, even that tiny bit of motion sending pain lancing between his temples. It was, hands down, the worst headache he’d ever had the misfortune to suffer. “Soeman?”
“Anli! Have’d you see’d my mirror?” The gazelle-like construct lying curled up on a rug by the boy’s bed didn’t even lift her head; barely cracked an eye open. “You put’d it on your shelf next to your Scrying textbook.”
The blonde boy’s path to school took him through the park, which was surrounded by a fairly decorative fence with sturdy wooden gates. During parts of the year, someone or other let their flock of sheep graze there, and the fence and gates were there to make sure the sheep stayed. He’d walked that way more »