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“Quinn, oh my baby,” Mom says.
Her hands are in mine, but a shadow has a grip on her waist, pulling her back. She’s parallel to the ground, stuck between me and the thing that’s trying to take her away.
“Hi, mom,” I say. “Thought I’d stop by.”
“You silly girl,” she says, just like she used to say before she disappeared.
“Where’s the book?” I ask.
Mom glances down and I see a satchel is dangling beneath her, the leather strap hanging from her shoulder and neck.
“Baby, you shouldn’t have come,” she says, her eyes glistening with tears as she grimaces, her face contorting in pain.
“Right,” I say. “Bit late for that though.”
My hands grow warmer and when Mom smiles my heart feels like it will burst with joy. It’s pounding in my chest, absorbing the warmth of her hands into mine and spreading it through my body.
A breeze stirs the ash that covers the ground, and it swirls like dust devils. The swirling clouds of dust move together, combining. I strain, trying to pull my mother free. I feel Duncan’s grip slipping, sliding across my hips.
“Quinn,” he grunts.
“Mom, I’m not letting you go,” I say, and it sounds like I’m growling as I strain with all my might.
“It’s fine, my love,” she says. “Take the book. You’ll need it.”
“I need you,” I cry.
She smiles despite her pain and tears. An explosion of emotions in my chest tears through me. As they do magical energy surges. My hands, gripping my mother’s tight, glow with a white light that grows brighter.
The light soothes muscles even as it reinforces them, and I feel stronger. I tighten my grip and pull with a heave. Mom moves closer and Duncan shifts his grip too, pulling me back. The ash eddies slam into one another, and as they join the swirling dust shifts and takes form.
Demonic creatures emerge, formed of ash and dust, but they have fiery eyes and their arms end in wicked claws. Dozens of them screech and rush towards us. The ground rumbles and the noise is deafening.
I jerk her towards me, and as I do the white light becomes blinding. Demonic howls of pain assault my ears. But we move back and then, in an instant, I pass through the cold wall of the mirror and fall backwards.
Duncan tries to keep us upright but the force with which we’re ejected from the mirror realm is too much. The four of us stumble, tripping over each other and landing in a pile on the floor with a loud exhale of multiple breaths.
Dugald extracts himself first, sliding out from beneath the pile. He offers me his hand and I accept, letting him help me to my feet. Duncan rises as I do, and he offers a hand to my mother. When she is on her feet, he bows deeply to her.
“M’lady,” he says, holding the deep bow.
“Hello,” Mother says.
Looking at my mother I know how I will age, or I hope I look so good when I’m her age. There are the signs of it on her face. The wrinkles of worry, the wear of a life lived, but even in that she projects a beauty. She fits the adage of “a fine wine gets better with age”.
Duncan continues to hold his deep bow before her and I’m not sure what he’s waiting for until I see his eyes dart towards me. I move to his side, placing a hand on his back, and looking at my mom.
“Mom,” I say. “This is Duncan.”
“Hello, Duncan.” She smiles. “Please, lad, rise. I’m nae some laird.”
Her accent is soft, slipping in and out. It’s exactly as I remember her. She worked hard to be “American” and not betray her country of origin. I never knew why but when she’d let it slip it always warmed my heart.
“We don’t have time for a reunion,” Dugald says darkly.
The moment he speaks Mom’s face darkens, her eyes narrow, and her jaw tightens. She makes a slow turn towards him, and her anger is palpable.
“Dugald,” she says so low it’s almost a growl.
