I tumble into the ruins, head spinning. Any sense of direction eludes me. Where is right? Where is left? Did I even follow the map correctly?

My partner Cerise slips in, yelling in my direction. All I could process was an unclear stream of exhaustion and desperation. The thieves are on our tails. Sounds of multiple sets of hooves thumping against dirt enter my ears.

Then, the words come through to me, “James, hurry! Help me close the door!”

The raging thieves were nearing, sharp knives in hand. I rush to my feet, joining Cerise at her side. With our combined strength, we heave the sliding door shut with a grunt.

“Just you wait! We’ll get you next time!”

The muffled threat meant nothing to us. Not when the scrying mirror of Egypt was in our grasp.

I step forward and press the pads of my fingers against the glass. It’s cool and smooth, like ice. It’s outer rim is pure gold like the glistening sunlight of dawn.

“It’s a real beauty,” Cerise said. “It’s a wonder so many explorers look for it. It’s said to reveal anything you could ever hope for.”

My eyes lock on my partner’s reflection. Her blue eyes are stern, like a brick wall hiding the smallest sliver of emotion. Cerise remaind in her wide stance, muscular arms crossed sternly over her chest.

I stare deeply into the glass, hoping, praying, for what it promises. My heart wants more than anything to break those walls, to know how she thinks, how she feels.

If she loves me as much as I love her.

My reflection ripples, like a stone dropped in water. Images morph and change like clay, until it solidifies into the innocent frown of a little girl. Her black hair is pulled into low pigtails. The dress she wears is littered with dirt stains. It’s seams unraveled at the ends of her skirt. Two figures tower over her.

I look again at Cerise. She remains unmoving.

The image changes, develops into something new like melting watercolors. The girl is now older, with the same hairstyle and the same despair in her innocent gaze. She’s much skinnier, hollowed out like an abandoned carcus. A pair of hands picks her up and takes her away from the danger, the misery in the house she was trapped in. Abusive caregivers perhaps?

Then, the girl is an adult. Her black hair flows like a river at night over her wide shoulders. Her blue eyes are stern, like a brick wall hiding the smallest sliver of emotion.

Cerise…

I whip my head around, and find her gone. My partner, my trusted friend, the girl I love, vanishing in the blink of an eye. No note, no footsteps, no items dropped or left behind.

I can sense the walls of her heart climbing higher.

Along with the smell of dread and danger.