CHAPTER 22

No Reflections

Fin landed hard and rolled to his feet, hand on the hilt of the Evershear, ready for anything. He waited for the crash of the Master shattering through a mirror, for the flash of red lightning crackling in the air around them.

Nothing came. He let out a slow breath, allowing his shoulders to relax.

“Marrill?” he called, almost afraid of what response he might receive. There was no echo. The word seemed to be absorbed into space, as though the air itself were solid.

Or as though it refused even the possibility of sound.

“Here.” Her voice came close behind him. He turned to find her pushing slowly to her feet. A slightly panicked look tinged her eyes.

His heart tripped. “You okay?”

She frantically shoved her hands into her pockets, as if searching for something. Then she let out a long breath and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” She bit her lip as she took in their surroundings.

Fin did the same. His horror grew with every moment. Mirrors towered over them, so tall their tops were lost to distance. But their surfaces didn’t glimmer with light and possibility. All of them were dull and gray—frozen in iron. Each mirror was a story waiting to be written, and every single one had its ending cast in metal.

The scope of it overwhelmed him. For as far as he could see, there was no light. No color. No life.

Behind him, Marrill let out a tiny whimper. He spun to see her standing before a tall mirror. His eyes slipped past her, to the image captured within. Every last bit of air felt like it was sucked from his lungs as he took in the scene.

It was the Kraken, frozen in iron. Her sails were carved sheets of metal, tiny statue pirats frozen midstride along the yards. Remy stood on the quarterdeck, feet planted, hands grasping the wheel, the expression on her face fierce as she commanded her ship. Near the bow stood Serth, his mouth still forming his friend’s name, his arms raised in a final defense.

But the enemy he’d been facing, the Master of the Iron Ship, was gone. A wraith of the Stream, the embodiment of the Iron Tide itself, he’d already slipped from that iron world and into another.

Where he’d gone, they couldn’t know. For those he’d left behind, however—for the crew of the Kraken—that mirror was their forever. The Iron Tide had won. And if Fin and Marrill failed, they would never escape.

Beside him, Marrill choked. Tears glistened on her cheeks, and her chin trembled. He could feel his own body threatening to crack, his own heart threatening to break. But he couldn’t let that happen. He had to keep the panic at bay.

He rested a hand on her arm, pulling her into a hug. “We’ll get them back,” he told her. He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.

She nodded and pressed her face against his shoulder a moment longer. Then she drew a deep breath and stepped back. He could see her struggling to rein in the fear and despair. She clenched her hands in her pockets and tried a smile, her chin still wobbling. “So saving the Pirate Stream falls to the two of us. Again.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “What could possibly go wrong?”

Marrill rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

He shrugged. “I mean, that hasn’t already?”

“Good point.” She chuckled, pulling her hand free so she could swipe at her tears with her knuckles. “So what now?”

Fin took a deep breath. “Now,” he said, “we find the Master.”

Marrill winced at the hard edge to his voice. He braced for her to argue. But instead, the color drained from her face.

“Or he finds us!”

Fin spun. In the distance, fingers of lightning danced along the Mirrorweb in a wave of red sparks. His heart seized. The Master was coming. On instinct, he prepared to run.

But then he stopped himself. The time for running had passed. It was time to stand and fight.

“Come on!” Marrill called, plucking at his sleeve.

Fin shook his head. He planted his feet. This was it. He’d come to kill the Master. To save the Stream. Now was his chance.

The lightning grew in intensity, so powerful that his bones seemed to vibrate with it. He squared up.

“Fin! What are you doing?” Marrill hissed.

“What we set out to do.” He drew the Evershear from the sheath at his hip. “Piercing through the armor to reach the man underneath.”

Marrill sucked in a breath. “No!” she breathed. She grabbed his arm. “Come on, we still have some time. We can still find the mirror that will save him.”

“Are you kidding, Marrill?” Fin shouted, shaking himself free. “After he just turned every last person we’ve ever cared about to iron, you’re still trying to save him?” Already, he could see the shadow of the Iron Ship moving through the lightning. In moments, it would be on them. And Fin couldn’t hesitate.

He wouldn’t hesitate.

The blade of the Evershear trembled slightly as he held it before him, the bone handle biting into his palm.

“Ardent’s in there,” she said. “Deep down, somewhere. You’ll be killing him.” Her voice cracked.

Fin’s gut twisted. He hated the thought. But he shook his head. Maybe the Master wasn’t entirely Ardent. But he was partially Ardent. And he was fully Ardent’s fault.

“There’s nothing of the Ardent we knew left,” he told her. “Don’t you think if there were, he’d be fighting against the Lost Sun? Don’t you think he’d be trying to stop all of this?”

Marrill didn’t respond. He flicked his eyes toward her. She was looking past him, toward the mirror with the Kraken. “Is that Rose?” she asked, pointing. “What’s she doing here?”

He followed her finger to a smudge of darkness perched along the mirror’s edge. The smudge shifted, wings spreading wide, flapping once before settling to stillness. It was Rose.

The scribbled bird let out a cry, the sound reverberating through the Mirrorweb.

Marrill cringed. “Shhhh!” she hissed at the bird. “He’ll hear you.”

Fin blinked, a thought occurring to him. “What if that’s what she wants?”

Marrill scowled at him. “You think she wants to be caught?”

It seemed so obvious to him now, so clear. “She’s leading the Master right to us so we can save the Stream.”

As if to prove his point, the red lightning intensified its dance across the mirrors. Any moment the Iron Ship would come crashing through it, bearing down on them. Fin dropped into a fighter’s stance.

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Marrill argued, still standing beside him as if their worst enemy wasn’t about to rain destruction down around them. “Rose always took us where we needed to go, not the other way around.”

“Right,” he said. “And she’s the one who brought us here. She opened the Gate for us.” He lifted the blade. “It all makes sense, Marrill. This is our chance to end it all and save the Stream.”

“But Rose wouldn’t want Ardent to die!” Marrill snapped. “If there was any way to save him, she would….” Her voice trailed off as she watched the bird take flight, wheeling in a circle above them. “That’s it,” she breathed.

She spun toward Fin. “Rose can lead us to the mirror. She’ll show us the way to save Ardent.” Behind her the Mirrorweb sparked and hummed, lightning crashing and burning between the mirrors.

Fin gritted his teeth. “It’s too late, Marrill. Too much of the Stream has been destroyed. We have to end this now.”

The tip of an iron bowsprit carved through the crimson lightning. Fin braced himself for the Master to appear.

But then Marrill was in front of him. A hair away from the tip of the Evershear.

“A long time ago,” she said calmly, “you asked me to trust you. It was on the deck of the Black Dragon, remember? When Serth first tried opening the Gate?”

Fin let out an aggravated sigh, trying to move around her. The rest of the ship broke into the Mirrorweb. But he had to nod. He remembered.

She pushed herself back in front of him. “Well, now I’m asking you to trust me.” She looked him straight in the eye.

“Please.”

Then she stepped to the side, clearing the path between him and the Iron Ship, the Master astride her bow. Giving him the choice.

He could strike the Master and save the Stream, killing their old friend Ardent in the process. Or he could trust that Marrill had figured out another way.

He sought the blue eyes through the slit of the Master’s iron helmet, searching for any hint of Ardent. He saw none. But when he looked at Marrill, her eyes gleamed with hope.

It was possible, he realized, that they could save Ardent. And if he struck now, that possibility would be gone. Just like all the potential swallowed by the Iron Tide. Only he would be the one destroying it for Marrill.

Fin wasn’t sure he could live with that. Slowly he lowered the Evershear, slipping it back into its glass sheath. “Lead the way,” he told her.

She jumped toward him, pulling him into a ferocious hug.

“And, uh, we should probably hurry,” he added.

Together, they turned and ran.

Marrill took the lead, chasing after Rose, Fin on her heels. The Iron Ship crashed behind them, the Master at her helm. There was no way they would be able to outrun him. He was the most powerful being in existence; he could move in and out of the mirrors at will. They were in his world now.

And yet, Fin and Marrill still managed to elude him. Being on foot meant they were able to duck through narrow corridors, finding shortcuts under mirrors the Master had to go around or navigate through.

They stuck to the tight passages, keeping as many obstacles between them and the massive Iron Ship as possible. “This way!” Marrill shouted, running faster. All at once, she dropped to her knees and skidded under a particularly low mirror.

“Nice one,” he said, sliding after her. She flashed him a smile, then jumped to her feet and kept running.

It reminded him of days in the Khaznot Quay when the other kids would race through the city. Fin always raced alongside them, pretending they might remember him at the end. Pretending he had friends.

Now he didn’t have to pretend. Marrill always remembered to look back to make sure he was with her. She automatically cupped her hands to boost him up when they reached a wall they had to climb.

And even if they didn’t save the Pirate Stream, even if the last possibility turned to iron and everything he’d ever known was gone forever, at least he had this. At least he had Marrill. Her friendship was worth more to him than anything else in existence.

He was about to tell her so when she skittered to a stop ahead of him. She threw her arms out to either side, teetering on the lip of a sharp drop. “Whoa!” He pulled up short behind her and grabbed her shirt, yanking her back to more solid footing. They stood at the edge of a sheer cliff, a wide chasm separating them from the next metal mirror. Ahead of them Rose banked and spun, circling the canyon, waiting.

“How do we get across?” Marrill asked.

Fin chuckled. “I’m surprised you even have to ask,” he said as he pulled the strings on his skysails.

She bit her lip. “But we won’t make it with the two of us. It’s too much weight.” She turned to face him. “You should go on. Follow Rose, find the last mirror, figure out how to save Ardent.”

He waited for her to laugh, but she didn’t. “Wait, you’re being serious?” he asked.

She nodded. “You don’t need me. If the last mirror doesn’t work, our only option is to use the Evershear. You have to be there. I don’t.”

He blinked at her, incredulous. “There’s no way I’m leaving you here.”

Crossing her arms, she lifted her chin. “I can figure out a place to hide. I’ll be totally safe.”

He shook his head. “Marrill, it’s not about that. I’m not facing the end of the world without you. It’s always been you and me together, and it always will be.”

Her eyes glistened, and she smiled. “Thanks,” she said.

“Plus, the Evershear is incredibly easy to use,” he added. “I mean, it just slices through stuff like it isn’t even there!” He made little swoops through the air with his arm, getting carried away with how awesome the blade was.

Marrill cleared her throat. “That’s great,” she said. “But it still doesn’t help us get across.”

Fin grimaced. There was that. But then the more he watched, the more he realized Rose wasn’t actually on the other side of the canyon. She was circling right above it. Dipping down, even, halfway through her flight pattern, always at the point directly over the middle of the drop.

“Maybe we don’t have to make it to the other side,” he said. “Maybe we’re not supposed to cross this chasm at all.” Marrill raised an eyebrow. He spun, offering her his back. “Hop on,” he said, folding his hands behind him in a makeshift step. “Quick, before we get a bad case of the red lightnings.”

Without hesitation, she climbed onto his back, clinging tight around his neck. Fin threw out his arms. “Hold on!” he called as he leapt into the void. As before, the lack of wind in the Mirrorweb made skysailing a challenge. There were no air currents to ride, no drafts to bank against.

But all Fin really needed was to control their fall a bit, and his skysails worked perfectly for that. He aimed them toward a mirror tilted away from them at a 45-degree angle. “Brace yourself, there’s going to be a bit of a drop,” he warned. Then he pulled his arms to his chest, and they plummeted.

They hit the face of the mirror with an ooof and a tangle of arms and legs. Almost immediately, they began sliding, skidding down the steep slope of the mirror face. Perhaps, Fin thought, he should have warned Marrill about his plan.

His fears were blown away when she threw her arms up and let out a loud “Wheeeeee!”

Their laughter seemed to fill the iron surroundings. When they reached the bottom, Fin tucked and rolled, letting his momentum carry him forward. Marrill did the same, and a few moments later, they found themselves stumbling to a stop near the entrance to a narrow tunnel of mirrors.

Fin glanced at it uneasily. It looked dark. And ominous. And really, really scary.

But that didn’t stop Rose. She winged past them, diving into the tunnel with a whoosh. Behind her, there was a crackle of energy—the sound of lightning striking iron. The Master was on their tail.

They had no choice but to follow the bird. Fin looked at Marrill, and she nodded. Together they plunged into the tunnel after Rose. The mirror walls were close, arching low overhead. The only sound was their pounding footsteps; the only confirmation Marrill still trailed after him, the echo of her ragged breathing.

They ran and ran. No other tunnels branched off. There were no gaps between the mirrors. The only option was to continue forward. Wherever they were going, there would be no retreat, not with the Master behind them. Fin dropped his hand to the hilt of the Evershear, ready to turn and do battle at any moment.

And then, suddenly, the tunnel opened up. The walls swung in a wide circle, the ceiling arching into a dome overhead. They were standing inside a mirror ball. The shock of it ground them both to a halt.

Fin gaped at his surroundings. It wasn’t the space that surprised him, though.

It was the light.

Because the mirrors along the walls still shone with possibility. Though most were already growing dull as the Iron Tide leached from the tunnel, oozing its way around the chamber, slowly eking out whatever life remained.

“The Tide’s coming in from all sides,” Marrill said. Despair was heavy in her voice.

Fin understood why. The Tide had already swept across the rest of the Mirrorweb and was converging on this point. This was the last bastion of the Pirate Stream.

They glanced at each other. Marrill held out a hand, and Fin took it. Together they slowly walked toward the far wall. There, one mirror waited, still shining bright with possibility—untouched by the Tide.

Rose perched on its corner, preening her scribbled wings.

They’d found the final mirror.