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Duncan moves in close and places a hand on the small of my back. He leans in and whispers in my ear.
“You can do this, my love,” he says.
His warm breath tickles as it passes over my ear and neck, but it also brings calm and focus. I smile, take a deep breath, and build the image in my head. The place foremost on my mind is the crumbling castle at Loch Ness where I left the survivors. The memory of it fuels the image I build in my mind.
I remember how stunned I was by its crumbling beauty when I first saw it. I had paused on the hill to admire it in the distance. We were still some distance away but it’s the clearest memory I have so I use it.
When I have it firmly in mind, I open my eyes and see that the mirror is swirling. The swirling image shimmers and then the image in my head appears in it.
“That’s it, Quinn,” Mom says and the pride in her voice is unmistakable. “Well done.”
“How do I hold it?”
“Keep concentrating,” she says, and I nod. “Everyone gets through.”
The image isn’t the same as what I’d imagined because I built it in my head like I remembered it. What we’re seeing is the way it is now.
When I first saw this view, an empty green field broken by protruding rocks and boulders stretched between the castle and me. The smell of the loch and the sounds of the gentle waves gave even the crumbling castle a unique beauty.
Now that same field is a writhing black mass of demons and shadow creatures. They look like a field of army ants surrounding the castle. Climbing the stones, covering every inch of open area. The sounds of the loch are drowned by their screeches, growls, and stamping feet.
A chill causes my stomach to clench into a tight knot. I must help the men I left behind, but there are so many monsters. Can even I do anything about this?
“Ach, that’s bad,” Duncan says, understating the situation.
“We must help,” I say.
“Aye,” Duncan agrees.
“They are not our concern,” Dugald says.
“Is that nae my Clan and family?” Duncan asks angrily.
“The MacGregors are in the castle,” I say, bile rising in my throat.
“Then there is no choice,” Duncan says, striding towards the mirror.
“Wait, MacGregor,” Dugald says, grabbing his arm.
Duncan jerks his arm free of Dugald’s grip.
“I’ll nae stand by while my family is slaughtered,” Duncan says.
“While I have no problem with you rushing off to get yourself killed,” Dugald says. “Joining them in death saves no one.”
“We have to try,” I argue.
“No, Quinn. I’m sorry, my dear child, but this isn’t your job,” Mom says. Her face is pale, her lips thin and white. “This is worse than I thought, but if you don’t stop the darkness and save the Tree, it won’t matter.”
“The MacGregors are in that castle!” I yell.
“It changes nothing,” Mom says.
“I’ll nae stand by,” Duncan says, putting one foot through the mirror.
“Fool of a MacGregor!” Dugald yells, grabbing his arm again and jerking him back.
I see it happening in slow motion but am helpless to stop it. Duncan spins towards Dugald, his hand balling into a fist. His arm swings around, adding centrifugal force, then punches Dugald in the face.
