Prologue

 

The thing before him was no longer his wife, his beautiful Rose. It was pure evil, a wraith older than time, and begging to be let out of its cage. But inside her—it—a demon lurked, hate-filled, malicious, and ready to seize that one chance to be set free.

And now he had only one shot at capturing it for all time. Through all his research and studies and trips into the abyss of magic, he had only come up with this one solution. The mirror, an everlasting prison perhaps for the vile thing. Everything had gone into the mirror’s creation, including blood from himself. This had to be the be-all end-all.

You’ve come to try and best me again, Guillaud. Foolish mortal. Come…come into my arms and give your sweet love a kiss. The wraith cackled. The sound was hideous, like that of a thousand rats squealing in delight as they feasted on the rotting carcass of a bloated dog.

His brain swam with the visual, but he shook it away. He needed to remain focused. There was a ritual that needed to be followed exactly. One wrong word and all his planning would be for naught.

The wizard pressed his hands together as if in prayer and cleared his mind of all chaos. The thing in the cage watched him intently. He knew it was hungry. He had starved it, making it weak enough for this containment spell to work. Now it wanted to feed. But one touch and he was doomed. It would feed on him, sucking his body dry.

He slid the mirror closer to the cage. It stood tall, almost cresting him. The frame was made of dark, soul-less crystal. Intricately carved throughout the rock were forgotten spells and runes, symbols of old. Such a feat to manufacture the thing, this mirror nearly cost him everything. Gold. Strength. Willpower. Every day he doubted himself. Was this the right course? Could he restore Rose by entrapping the wraith? In the end, would all the effort be worth it?

Beautiful. But what’s a silly mirror to me? Just reach out and grasp my hand. Please, Guillaud. I long to touch you. To touch you again after all these years. That is what I need.

Her voice enticed him. Several times before he’d felt the need, the desire to reach out and touch her, but he had always resisted. To touch her was to die. This was not his sweet Rose, but a demon.

He began to chant the spell and manipulated his hands in intricate patterns. His senses focused inward, blocking out all distractions.

An unnatural silence spread through the chamber when the spell completed. A rush of wind rippled the torches upon the wall. The mirror glowed with a slow, pulsing blue light. In the cage, the creature stared at the object. Its mouth hung open, making its appearance look even more ghoulish. Guillaud suppressed a shudder.

Mine…mine…, the wraith cooed. It reached toward the pulsating surface.

The wizard brought the mirror closer. He was ready for this nightmare to be over. A touch, a single touch from the creature on the mirror would seal the spell. His eyes concentrated on the wraith’s hand as it wavered near the mirror.

“Come on…come on,” he murmured.

Fool! The talon whipped sideways and seized his arm.

Pain burst through him. Knife, fire, stinging, electric shock! Lightning bolt agony screamed from every fiber of his being. He released his hold on the mirror and it toppled to the floor. His ears rang with the demon’s cackles and his arm pulsed. He felt his life’s energy surge from his body as the creature began to feast.

Guillaud thrashed and flailed against the cage but the wraith’s grip was too strong. He could not pull loose. The demon’s grasp held strong like iron. The more he pulled away, the more burning, flesh-searing pain came. He had to break free. It could not end with him being eaten by this monster. And the demon was too hungry to savor this meal.

There had to be another way to save himself and Rose. He glanced at the mirror lying on the floor. Salvation was so near but the wraith had to touch it. He needed to bring the mirror closer.

He strained toward the mirror and hooked the edge with his foot. He inched the object nearer until he could reach it with his free hand. He lifted one edge and pressed it to the wraith’s palm.

Contact made, the spell was sealed. No big explosion or spark erupted. The only change was the thing’s laughter. Cackling changed to screaming.

And then, silence.

Inside the cage, the body dropped. The fist, once tightly gripping the wizard, went limp.

Guillaud stumbled, leaning against the bars of the cage to steady himself before he collapsed as well.

He turned to look at the mirror. Did the spell really work? Was the creature trapped? The dark, reflective surface lured him in. Did he dare touch it?

His left hand flopped loosely at his side. He shoved his sleeve up and looked at what remained of his arm. Just skin covering the bones. All the flesh had been…sucked away.

Rose! He had forgotten about her.

His eyes flicked to the cage, his hand, the mirror forgotten. He sank down to his knees and cradled his wife’s head. Rose lay on the floor, unmoving. Dead.

No! Rose’s death had not been his intention.

His cry of pain rattled the cavern.