“It’s a hard thing for a child to face the imperfections and weaknesses of her parents. Somehow, even when you are grown, you still feel that they must be somehow wiser and stronger than you. But even my parents, heroes that they were in their own special way, were very far from perfect.”

Outside the wind was howling like a whole pack of wolves. By the calendar spring had arrived, but in the far north of Mysteria spring was still months away. Fortunately for Aidan and his wife Flame Song their home was well protected against the elements. There was, however, a storm of another kind raging inside that drowned out the howling wind. Instead, the howl of a childish temper-tantrum filled every room of the house.

“Not gonna, not gonna, not gonna!”

Flame Song and Aidan exchanged a glance. Firedart, their youngest son, hadn’t thrown a tantrum in weeks, but it looked like he’d been saving up for this one. He was a hot-tempered boy of five, with his firecat-white hair just starting to show faint streaks of orange. Tonight’s tantrum was over bedtime. Firedart had decided he was old enough now to stay up late and when his mother told him no he started kicking and screaming.

Phoenixflare, Firedart’s twin brother, was already curled up in his bed. The twins were completely different in both appearance and temperament. Where Firedart was hot-tempered and perhaps a bit spoiled, his brother was a calm, quiet, and obedient child who had never thrown a tantrum. Sometimes his father wondered at his Zen-like calm despite anything the world might throw at him. In a family of shapeshifters, both boys could look like anything they wanted, but where Firedart spent most of his time in the half human, half firecat form he’d been born in, Phoenixflare was almost always in full firecat form. At the moment he had wrapped the orange-feathered wings that marked him as a phoenix clan throwback around him and put his paws over his ears in an attempt to drown out his brother’s howls so he could fall asleep.

His mother Flame Song was seriously considering doing the same thing. She and her husband exchanged glances at their son’s antics. Aidan shrugged and walked over to sit on a low pile of cushions next to the last member of their family, their daughter Littlespark. Littlespark was eight years old, though she looked older. She too was in human form, an orange-haired little girl with grass green eyes. She was cute as a button, and had her dad wrapped around her finger. She didn’t need to throw tantrums and she knew it.

“I wish he would be quiet, Daddy. I can’t even think!”

Aidan smiled. “He’ll give up soon enough. What are you doing?” He indicated the pad of paper and pencil the girl held. A whole set of colored pencils was scattered on the floor around her.

“I’m drawing. I wanted to do a picture of our family, see? Only I can’t decide what shape to draw everybody in.”

Aidan laughed. He’d never have imagined in his wildest dreams that one day he would be married to a shapeshifter and have three little shapeshifting children of his own. And that’s not even the half of it, he thought to himself. “Why don’t you ask everyone what they want to be drawn as?” He said in response to his daughter’s question. “Though you won’t have to ask me,” he added with a grin. Aidan didn’t share his wife’s talent for changing forms. He had his own abilities.

“But I can’t ask Dart right now,” she said, referring to her screaming younger brother by the short form of his name, “and Flare is going to sleep.”

“Well, your bedtime isn’t far off either, Spark,” said Aidan, “So maybe you should just wait until tomorrow to finish it.”

Her brow wrinkled as she considered his proposal. “I’ll draw you today,” she decided, “and do everyone else tomorrow.” She bent over her paper and started drawing. Aidan peered over her shoulder. She was only eight, but she already showed quite a bit of talent. Her picture was obviously a child’s drawing, but was much better than a stick figure. It showed Aidan’s slight form, white wings, raven-dark hair, and sky blue eyes fairly accurately by the time Littlespark finished with it.

Also by the time she’d finished Firedart had given up on his tantrum and been put to bed. Flame Song joined her husband and daughter in front of the fire for a few minutes. “I like it, it’s very good,” she said, looking at Littlespark’s picture.

“Thanks, Mom. Guess I should go to bed now.” She picked up her pencils and headed for her room.

“Alone at last,” said Aidan, putting his arm around his wife. She sighed and leaned into his embrace.

“Sometimes I wonder what we were thinking, wanting lots of kids. Just three is more than enough some days.”

Aidan chuckled. “You know you wouldn’t be happy if you didn’t have them. Remember before we had Spark? We wanted kids so badly.”

“I know. I just wish Dart were as calm as Flare.”

“I think two junior Zen masters would be a little much. I’d settle for him being as calm as Spark.”

This time it was Flame Song’s turn to laugh. “You’re right. Sometimes Flare is a little bit eerie. But I wouldn’t be without any of them.”

There was a long comfortable silence. Aidan put his head on Flame’s shoulder. She was in inch or two taller than he, so it worked better that way. There had been a time when Aidan had heartily hated being so short, but these days it didn’t bother him. Flame Song sighed happily. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” he replied.

“Aidan!”

He laughed. “I love you too.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“No, I’m hopeful,” he said.

“Oh? And what are you hoping for?”

“Well, for starters, I was hoping I might get a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” Flame Song’s tone was playful, and there was a twinkle in her emerald-green eyes as she pulled back to look at Aidan. She found an answering twinkle in his sapphire-blue gaze.

“I said for starters.”

“And then?”

“Oh, I’ll think of something.”

He reached up and ran his fingers softly through her hair as they came together and kissed. When Flame came up for air, Aidan took her hand in his and kissed it, first on the back and then on the palm. Then he kissed her wrist slowly and gently, lingering over the spot where her blood rushed close to the skin. Her breathing quickened and her heart began to race as he worked his way upward, taking his time, drawing the moment out.

At first they were both far to distracted to hear the faint hum that was building in the room, but gradually it became too loud to miss. Aidan reluctantly broke off what he was doing. “Do you hear that?”

“Yes,” said Flame Song. “And look.” She pointed to the corner of the room where a soft glow was building in accompaniment to the hum. “What is that?”

The glow grew into a shimmering oval that hung just above the floor. “I think it’s a portal.” Aidan got nimbly to his feet, and his hands went to the pair of daggers he always wore at his belt. Maybe whoever was making the portal was friendly, and maybe not. Flame too had risen to her feet, and Aidan could tell by the faintest possible blurring that hovered around her that she was prepared to shift back into her firecat form if needed.

The portal solidified and then the center of it went clear and they could see through to the other side. A figure stood directly in front of the portal. When Aidan caught sight of it, his heart froze in instant dread. The tall, handsome man standing there was someone he knew all too well. Flame Song blurred into firecat form and snarled. “Drago,” she said, and the word was a hiss of hatred.

The man standing in the portal looked surprised and, oddly enough, fearful. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Please, listen to me for just a moment. I’m not Drago, not the one you know anyhow.”

Aidan’s eyes narrowed and he glared at the face of his hated enemy. “What do you mean, not Drago?”

The man looked from Aidan to Flame Song, and they were both struck by the obvious unease he was showing. “Maybe you’ll remember about eight years ago you visited another world, a world that mirrored your own? I am from that world. My name is Saint Drago, and I need your help.”

Aidan took a step closer to the portal, now giving the man a more thorough examination. His features were the same as those of Lord Drago, the vampire lord that had caused Flame, Aidan and their friends so much grief over the years, but he was dressed in flowing white robes and wore a holy symbol around his neck. Perhaps they were fakes, but it was true that the real Lord Drago couldn’t have worn a cleric’s robes or symbol. His vampiric nature was anathema to such, and even touching them would cause him considerable pain.

Flame Song said what both of them were thinking. “You could be Saint Drago, but how can we be sure? This could be some kind of trick.”

“I understand, believe me, I do. I’m having a hard time believing I’m talking to you and not to your doubles from my world as well.” He shivered slightly, and Aidan wondered what their opposites were like. If Saint Drago’s apparent unease was any indication, they weren’t nice people. “I don’t know what I can do to help you believe me,” Drago added. “I’ll take any test you can devise.”

“Can physical things pass through that portal?” asked Aidan, suddenly struck with an idea.

“Yes,” Drago answered.

“Then hold out your hand,” said Aidan.

“Aidan,” said Flame, realizing what test he had in mind. “I’m sure we can think of some other way to be sure. You don’t have to…”

“Yes, actually, I do. This is the only thing Lord Drago wouldn’t be able to fake.” He took another step closer and reached out his own had to touch Drago’s. He didn’t shake; he just touched his fingers lightly to the other man’s hand. Then he jerked his hand back, saying “Ow!” He stuck one finger in his mouth as if he’d burned it. “Yep, he’s the real thing,” he said to Flame. “Genuinely holy and then some,”

“Aidan,” she said with a scolding tone in her voice.

“Well, how else could I be sure he was telling the truth?”

“I don’t understand,” said Saint Drago. “What happened?”

“I’m a vampire,” said Aidan simply.

Drago gaped at him. “A vampire?”

Aidan grinned, showing his pointed eyeteeth. “You know, vampire? Drinks blood, comes out after dark, that sort of thing?”

“But how… you… I…” Drago paused to collect himself. “I know your double on my world is a vampire, but he’s downright evil. And of course my opposite in your world is also a vampire, but I most definitely am not. So how is it that you are?”

Aidan shrugged. “I didn’t exactly ask to become undead. It just sort of happened. I’m pretty well used to it by now though. And other than not being able to shake hands with clerics, it doesn’t get in the way much.” He grinned again.

Drago looked rather unnerved by the sight, but he collected himself and said, “Now that you accept me as myself, I need to tell you why I came. I need your help.”

“Our help? Why us?” asked Flame.

Drago sighed. “It’s a long story. Would you be comfortable if I came through? Speaking like this is rather awkward.”

“Of course!” said Flame Song. “Come in and have a seat.”

Saint Drago stepped through the glowing portal. He settled himself with an air of weariness on a low couch that was the only real piece of furniture in the room. Flame Song preferred the piles of cushions that were equally comfortable for her in human or firecat form. The couch was meant mostly for visitors.

“Can I get you anything?” asked Flame. “I feel like a cup of hot chocolate myself. Would you like one?”

Drago looked a bit surprised at the offer, but accepted graciously. Flame shifted into human form and vanished into the kitchen. Aidan and Drago exchanged uneasy glances. Each of them was the spitting image of the other’s worst enemy, and though they knew otherwise, it was difficult for either to relax. Flame Song soon returned to break the uncomfortable silence. “Here you are,” she said, handing Saint Drago a steaming mug. “I don’t know about where you’re from, but up here it’s still freezing outside.” She settled on a cushion with a second mug in her hand.

Drago glanced at Aidan, who said with a wry smile, “I’m afraid I can’t join you. I don’t drink hot chocolate these days.”

Drago shook his head in amazement. “This is going to take some getting used to. But for you to understand my situation, I need to tell you the whole story. I am, as you may know, the leader of a clerical order on my world. We are, perhaps, somewhat similar to the Clan of your world,” he began, referring to the Clan of the Lost Dragon “We are dedicated to helping others,” continued Drago, “though each member of my order must choose his or her own path as far as how they help. There are a few who are warriors who defend those weaker than they, but most of us are healers and builders. We try to make our world a better place. Idealistic perhaps, but I would like to think we have made some small difference.

“It was about a year ago that things began going wrong. Several of my people vanished and never came back. The disappearances were far removed in both place and time, and I thought it only a coincidence, but later I learned better. Several more vanished, and this time we found the bodies of two of them.” His expression sobered as he said, “I do not think they died easy deaths. I became certain then that some single agency was responsible for both the deaths and the disappearances, but I had no clue about its nature until a few months ago. Another of my followers was killed while traveling to my monastery. He was a bard, and his path was to bring joy into the lives of others through music. He traveled much, playing where he could and asking only for food and lodging in exchange for his music.” Drago paused again, and his face was etched with lines of sadness and pain. “I considered him a friend.

“We found his body in the forest not far from our monastery. I think they left it on purpose, trying to terrify us. It is not a sight I’ll soon forget. But I think they didn’t know that he kept a journal. He had tucked it under his shirt, and they didn’t find it.” He reached into one of the pockets in his robe and drew out a little book.

“May I?” asked Aidan, reaching out for it. Drago handed it over. It wasn’t very big, and the cover was stained and tattered. Some of the stains looked alarmingly like blood. He opened it and flipped through it. It was about three-quarters full of small, neat handwriting. He skimmed through it. The first half didn’t seem to have anything unusual, but the last four entries gave him a chill. He quickly read through to the end and then went back. He looked up at Flame, his eyes wide.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I’ll read it,” he said. “See for yourself.”

“Today has passed like most days on the road. Nothing eventful interrupted me, and I have seen no one all day long. I have a strange sense, however, that someone is following me. I’ve tried repeatedly to catch some glimpse, but I have seen no one. Nevertheless, the bushes rustle too often along the side of the road. I will be glad three days hence when I leave these woods, and gladder when I reach the monastery. There is far too much cover here for my taste. Now I shall go to bed and hope that this is all merely my imagination.

“I am now certain I am being followed. I slept last night with no difficulty, and nothing happened, but all today the bushes have rustled along my path, and I think perhaps I caught a glimpse of something pale in the shadows. And my horse is becoming increasingly nervous. Wait…! I return to writing after a futile search of the bushes. I saw the thing that has been stalking me. I didn’t see it clearly, but I am sure it is some kind of cat. Not a housecat, but something the size of a tiger with white fur striped darker, I couldn’t make out the color in the moonlight.”

Aidan paused in his reading. He and Flame Song exchanged glances. The bard’s description of his stalker sounded all too familiar. Aidan took a deep breath and continued reading.

“I looked for it, though perhaps I was foolish, but I found nothing. I will sleep close to my horse tonight and hope she will warn me if anything comes.

“I fear now that I am writing this not for my own eyes, but as a warning for whoever may find me after I am dead. The cat followed me all this day. I saw it clearly several times. It was making no effort to hide. My horse nearly bolted in sheer terror on more than one occasion. I hesitated to make camp, for I feel vulnerable sitting here in the dark, but I fear that trying to travel further by night would be even more risky. Not long after I made camp I saw the cat, standing boldly only a few yards off. Its green eyes caught the firelight, and I’m certain it was smiling at me. And then I saw the other. I think perhaps he was an aerian. If not then he is some form of demon, for he certainly had wings and demonic is an appropriate word to describe him. He was crouched in a tree overhead. I do not know what drew my eyes upward, but when I looked into his eyes I felt I could see the fires of hell burning in them, though no doubt it was simply my fire being reflected. I will try to stay awake, but I have traveled far and am weary. I do not know if I can last the night.

“Note: I did indeed fall asleep, and was awakened by the scream of my horse. When I looked around it was nowhere to be found. I soon fell asleep again. When I awoke in the morning I was surprised to be alive. I was not surprised to find my horse’s mangled body not far from the camp. It looked as though the cat had partially eaten it. I have paused here to add this brief note in case I do not have a chance to write this night. I fear the end is near.

“I survived the day, though I did not make good time, weary as I was and limited to my own two feet. I had hoped to make it out of the woods, but nightfall found me still among the trees. I have now seen both of my tormentors clearly. The second appeared again not long after twilight came. He stood brazenly within the light of my campfire. He is indeed an aerian, and now I know the nature of what stalks me, for he is also a vampire. He told me as much, saying he would have my blood before the night was out. I do not understand why he did not simply attack me then and there, but I think he is playing a game. He wishes, no doubt, to terrify me as much as he may before he takes my blood and my life with it. After making his intentions clear he stepped back into the shadows. I will give a good description of him here in hopes that this book will be found and someone will be able to rid the world of such evil. He is very short in stature; I estimate his height is not much over five feet. His hair is very dark and cut short. His eyes are blue and his skin, as one might expect from a vampire, very pale. He wears dark colors and a distinguishing ornament is a collar of dark metal set with a round red stone at his throat. His feline companion is white furred with reddish orange stripes in a pattern reminiscent of flames. Its eyes are very green and it is the size of a great tiger, though with a thick coat more like that of a snow leopard. I will lie awake tonight, my fear is sufficient to keep me awake despite my weariness, but I do not think I will live out the night.”

Aidan stopped reading. After that the pages were blank. He and Flame again exchanged looks. Both their faces showed their horror clearly. “The description he gave… it sounds like us!”

Drago nodded. “Using that description I was able to discover who was stalking my people. It was a married couple, to my surprise, a shapeshifter and an aerian vampire, your opposites. They are your mirror images as the Lord Drago you know is mine. With that information I hoped to be able to hunt them down and end the killing, but somehow they know my every more before I make it. I have begun to fear there is a spy among my order. They know where my people will be, and when. They counter every attempt I have made to attack them before I have hardly begun. By sheer luck I managed to capture Flame Song, hoping to learn the identity of the spy if there is one, but she was rescued even before I could begin questioning her. I had reached my wits end. And then I hit on an idea. From the moment I had learned who my adversaries were I recalled meeting you, their opposites, years ago. I thought it nothing more than an odd coincidence, but as everything I tried ended in more lives lost I thought of you again and conceived a plan. I must know who the spy is, and the thought came to me that if one of you could convince one of that devilish pair that you were the other, why then you could find out who it was, how they know my every move. I have told no one about this. I made this portal in the privacy of my own room, and I have not even hinted of this plan to any of my followers.”

He paused and sighed wearily. “I know you have no reason to help me, but I beg of you, I can think of nothing else to do.”

Flame and Aidan again exchanged a glance. “Give us a moment to talk this over,” said Flame.

“Of course,” said Drago. The couple got the their feet and went into their bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“That’s horrible!” said Flame Song. “Imagining a scene like that and then thinking of you and me doing such things…” she trailed off.

“I know,” responded Aidan. “But how can we go chasing off to help him? What about the children? We left this sort of adventuring behind, for their sakes, when we left the Clan.”

Flame Song nodded. “I know, I hate the thought of being away from them, but…” she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “Saint Drago isn’t called ‘Saint’ for nothing. He’s a good man and his people deserve help. And we owe him one. He hasn’t even mentioned it, but he saved both our lives, years ago.” Aidan nodded, remembering the terrible moment when Flame Song had nearly been killed while he looked one, helpless. “And,” added Flame, “somehow that fact that it’s us, our twins… it makes it feel like it’s somehow our responsibility.”

“You’ve hit on it right there. I think of you and me hunting down that poor bard like that…” he shuddered. “I want to stop it, undo it, make up for it somehow.”

“Then we’ll go?”

Aidan sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. We’ll have to find somebody to look after the kids while we’re gone, but yeah, we’ll go.”

And so they went. Arrangements were made with a Corinne in Snowcap Village to take care of the children. Goodbyes were said, hugs and promises to return as soon as possible were given, and then at a pre-arranged time Saint Drago opened the portal again and Flame Song and Aidan came through.

Drago’s bedroom proved to be a simple, almost bare cell. “Forgive me that I cannot offer you better hospitality, but I do not want any of my people to see you. You would doubtless give some poor soul a heart attack, thinking you were your opposites from this world.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Flame Song, seating herself cross-legged on the floor.

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Aidan.

“I shall sneak you two out of here and give you a map showing the location of the ruined castle where they are living. From there it will be up to you to separate them and one or the other of you work your way into their good graces, as it were.”

“Well then, let’s get going.”

“Allow me to make sure that no one will be out roaming the corridors at this hour. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Saint Drago left, closing the door behind him securely. Aidan sat down next to Flame Song. “Do you think we can pull this off?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible. I’m sure that you can act like your opposite, but I’ve never been any good at acting.”

Aidan laughed. “Yeah, I probably could pretend to be my evil twin. But don’t be too sure you couldn’t. You’ve pulled some pretty convincing acts before.”

“I guess so. I…”

She was interrupted by Saint Drago’s return. “All is clear,” he said. Flame and Aidan rose to their feet. Without a word they followed Drago through a series of empty halls. Aidan’s inhumanly keen hearing could detect dozens of people sleeping in the rooms that lined the vacant corridors, but no one emerged to see the trio make their way down dimly lit halls. Torches flickered in scones on the walls, and their footsteps echoed off of the bare stone. At length they went through a door and out into the night. It was still and the sky was clear. Drago handed them a packet, saying, “There’s a map in there with our location and the location of the castle marked. When you return, identify yourselves with the password ‘palindrome’ so that I can be sure it is you and not your doubles. Can you remember that?”

“Yes,” said Aidan.

“Then go, and may all the gods be with you.” He stepped back and closed the door, leaving the pair standing in the dark. Aidan opened the packet. To his vampiric eyes the dim moonlight was more than bright enough to read by. He looked over the map for a while, and then said, “We’ll need to head nearly due south.”

“Then let’s get going,” said Flame. She changed into aerian form, as she usually did when traveling long distances with Aidan. On white wings the pair set out into the night. They flew in perfect silence, each alone with his or her thoughts.

After a few miles had passed, Flame Song broke the stillness to ask, “Aidan, what’s a palindrome?”

Aidan laughed and answered her, and they passed the rest of the night in light-hearted conversation. When the dawn came they kept flying. At one time Aidan would have needed to stop and find shelter out of the light, but he had been gifted years ago with a medallion that protected him from the sun, so he had no need to fear the daylight. They paused around noon and rested until sundown, then took to the sky again and flew through the next night. It was early on the third night when they reached the castle.

It sat on a low hill overlooking a little village that lay perhaps a mile further on. It did indeed look ruined. The walls were crumbling and there were no lights showing. Flame Song and Aidan stood in the woods that began not far from the castle walls. “So, what’s the plan?” asked Flame Song.

“Well, since I’m both the better actor and the better sneaker, being an ex-thief, I think I’ll go in. I’ll try to get my double outside somehow. Then you can work your wiles on him, while I try to charm your opposite, and one or the other of us will hopefully get the secret.”

“What if you get caught?”

Aidan looked thoughtful. “Actually, that might not be a bad thing. Think of it. If they catch me, they’re bound to notice I look just like their Aidan, so I’ll ‘accidentally’ let it slip that you’re out here. They’ll no doubt decide it would be fun to reverse our trick and have the other Aidan pretend he’s me. You can lead him by the nose back to Saint Drago’s and have no trouble getting the secret out of him.”

“But what about you?”

“I can take care of myself. Heck, odds are they’ll just lock me in some cell, and I can be out in ten seconds if they don’t take my lock picks away, maybe five minutes if they do. I’m the world’s best thief, remember?”

Flame smiled and shook her head. “I thought you were the world’s best retired thief?”

Aidan blushed faintly. “Er, yeah, that’s what I meant.”

“All right. I don’t like the idea of you getting caught though. Don’t you try to get caught just so we can use that plan. That’s our backup plan only.”

“All right. Oh, one more thing. We need a password, so you can know whether I'm returning triumphant of whether my evil twin is trying to trick you. So what’s a word I’d never actually use in conversation?”

“Palindrome again?”

He nodded. “Right. That way I won’t have to remember two. I’ll say it first thing when I get back.” He took a deep breath and said, “Give me a kiss for luck?”

Flame put her arms around him and kissed him. After a long time he reluctantly pulled away. “Well, see you when I see you,” he said, and turning he flew into the night.

He went in through an upper window and began exploring from the top down. Most of the castle was dusty and ruined, but as he reached the ground floor things looked a bit cleaner. He found a hallway that was in good repair. There were even torches, though unlit ones, in scones on the walls. Bingo, he thought. Somebody lives here all right. Now, where…? Before he could finish the thought the hallway was flooded with light. He found himself frozen, completely unable to move.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

The door at the end of the hall opened and a familiar figure came out. It was Flame Song, but not the same Flame Song he knew. She was wearing a dress, for one thing, and the expression of sardonic amusement on her face wasn’t one Aidan had ever seen on his wife’s features, for another. Behind her a second figure emerged and Aidan found himself looking at… himself.

The mirror Aidan advanced down the hall. “How interesting. I almost didn’t believe this idea of mirror worlds, but here’s the proof. He’s my spitting image, sure enough.”

“One down and one to go then. The other me is bound to be around here somewhere.”

“Yes. Should I go look for her?”

“Go ahead. You’ll probably want to get a change of clothing first though. You need to look enough like him that she’ll be fooled.”

They knew we were coming, thought Aidan. How in the world did they know? He struggled to free himself. He’d almost planned on getting caught, but he hadn’t planned on the villainous pair knowing he was coming. For all his struggles, he didn’t move so much as one inch. Whatever force held him was impossible to overcome. Then his double made a few odd gestures and spoke a word, and he found that his shirt and vest were removing themselves.

The mirror Aidan removed his own embroidered shirt, replacing it with Aidan’s simpler outfit. “Don’t forget that pendant and the daggers,” said the mirror Flame. Another gesture and Aidan’s sun-protection amulet and twin daggers were likewise removed. Aidan gaped at his twin. That had been the last thing he expected to see. His twin was a mage? Aidan himself didn’t have one iota of magical talent, how could his double be a magic user?

“How do I look?” asked the mirror Aidan.

“You’ll do. Just remember to avoid using magic. This fellow,” she gestured at Aidan, “doesn’t seem to be a mage.”

“I’ll just put him on ice for you then, and I’ll be off to catch your twin.” Aidan watched in a kind of horrified fascination as his double raised his hands and began another spell. He could almost feel the power wash over him, and then the lights went out.

Flame Song was getting anxious. Aidan had been in there a long time. Just when she was about ready to go in after him she saw a winged shape headed in her direction. She stood up and waved, calling softly, “Aidan!” He adjusted his course and a moment later he landed next to her.

“What happened?” asked Flame anxiously, acutely aware that this might not be her husband.

“I didn’t see them anywhere. The whole place looked deserted.” Flame’s heart sank. He hadn’t said the password, so this must be the other Aidan. And that meant that her husband had been captured. For one moment she wanted to forget about the plan and go after him, but she knew she would just have to trust him to take care of himself.

“I guess Drago was wrong about where they’re holed up. Maybe we should go back to the monastery and get fresh directions,” she said, hoping this false Aidan would take the bait.

“That sounds like a plan,” he said cheerfully. Flame felt a flash of hatred for this cheerful murderer in the image of her beloved, but she stifled it. She needed to act like there was nothing wrong. “Right. Let’s go then,” she said and, spreading her wings, headed off into the night. The mirror Aidan followed close behind her.

The journey back to Drago’s monastery was a strange one. Flame Song found herself alternately fascinated and repelled by the mirror of her husband. He was so alike! He had all of the same little mannerisms, and he said so many of the same things. There were moments when he showed the same sense of humor, making odd little jokes. And that actually was scarier than if he’d acted blatantly evil. Here was somebody capable of cold-blooded murder, of stalking a completely innocent person and then killing him just for the fun of it, and he acted just like her husband.

The main difference was in his treatment of her. Where Flame and her husband enjoyed an easy friendship and a deep loving commitment, this Aidan treated her with respect tinted with more than a touch of wariness, as though he expected her to somehow mistreat him if given the opportunity. But even though Flame knew he wasn’t her Aidan, and though she knew what kind of monster he was, she couldn’t bring herself to be anything but kind.

The first night as daylight approached, Aidan asked if they would stop and find shelter for the day. Flame was a bit puzzled until she realized that this Aidan didn’t know the purpose of the sun amulet. “No, I’d rather keep going. I want to make good time back to the monastery, and what with your amulet letting you stay out in the sunlight I can’t think of any reason to stop.”

She glanced over at him to see if he had noticed anything false in her acting, but he was obviously too concerned with trying not to give his own game away. As sunrise drew nearer he began to show a touch of nervousness. He was trying to hide it, but Flame Song could see that he didn’t like being out in the open with the sun coming up. She decided to give him a break and said, “I’m feeling a bit tired. Could we land and rest for a few minutes? We can sit under a tree and watch the sun rise.”

With relief the mirror Aidan agreed to land. He immediately found a sheltering tree in whose shadow he could hide if the amulet proved ineffective. Flame Song sat down on a nearby rock and made a little show of stretching and yawning. She watched Aidan out of the corner of her eye as the sky lightened. She knew that even the indirect pre-dawn light could cause a vampire pain, and she smiled a bit to see the expression of wonder that crossed the false Aidan’s face as he realized that he was feeling no discomfort. He stepped away from the tree and stared into the east. The sunrise was a pretty one, clouds of gold and pink caught the first rays, and then the edge of the sun peeped above the horizon, and light flooded over everything. Aidan just stared. In that moment, with the sunlight on him and an almost childlike expression of awe on his face, Flame wondered if he was really such a monster. She remembered the day when her Aidan had gotten his amulet. The look on his face that first time he stood in the sun had been the same look. Perhaps this other had something in common with her husband besides his physical appearance.

After a long time she got up and said, “I’m feeling a bit more rested now, shall we go on?”

Aidan started. “Yes, yes, of course.” Flame smiled inwardly again. He’d been so caught up in the sunlight that he had forgotten she was there. They flew into the brilliant morning light, and all that day the mirror Aidan kept losing himself in the sunlight. Flame would look over at him and find a wondering, dreamy sort of expression on his face. When they stopped for a rest about noon, he chose a spot to sleep in that was out in the open where the sun could shine on him fully. Flame Song kept looking at him and wondering. She wished she could really talk with him, but any of the questions she wanted to ask would give the game away.

She watched him as he watched the sunset with a mixture of fascination and regret. Suddenly she thought of another potential problem. “Aidan, I can’t remember, when was the last time you fed?” She was certain he was used to behaving like the vampires in the stories, going out at night in search of human victims to drain dry, but she wasn’t going to let him do anything of the sort while he was with her.

He looked a bit surprised by the question. “A day or two ago, why?”

“Oh, I was going hunting and I wondered if I should try and catch you anything.”

“Uh, sure, go ahead.”

“All right. You can hang around here for a bit while I go see what I can find.” She shifted back from aerian to firecat form and padded off into the deepening gloom. She put her worries out of her mind for a while and just enjoyed the hunt. She spent a lot of time looking human, but inside she was still the wild predator she’d always been. Nose to the ground she took in the rich, varied scents of the forest. She found the spoor of a rabbit that had passed not long ago and followed it. She reveled in the rush of air over her fur as she ran through the woods. And when she caught the first rabbit she savored the flavor of its blood pouring down her throat. She pulled it to pieces and ate it on the spot. Then she set out on a second, more difficult hunt. She needed to catch something alive.

It was over an hour later when she trotted back into the clearing where she’d left the mirror Aidan. He was still there, and he looked up warily as she emerged from the bushes. A live rabbit, struggling in terror, dangled from her jaws. Wordlessly, she offered it to him. There was an odd expression on his face, something she couldn’t quite pin down, as he took the terrified bunny from her. There was something almost like gratitude and even tenderness in it. But then he lifted the rabbit to his lips and began to feed with none of the reticence or desire to spare her feelings that her husband had always shown, and she dismissed her thoughts. He was a monster, after all. A cold-blooded killer. She turned away until he was finished. “Come on,” she said, “We need to get moving.”

The rest of the journey passed without incident. They arrived at the monastery a few hours before sunset on the third day. Flame led the way, simply striding confidently up to the door she and Aidan had left by and opening it. It wasn’t locked, and they passed inside. Almost immediately Flame and Aidan found themselves frozen in their tracks as the net of a clerical spell fell over them. The mirror Aidan let out a cry of pain and Flame realized that the clerical magic must have been hurting him, vampire that he was. Saint Drago stepped out of a doorway, and several of his followers, all armed to the teeth, emerged from other doorways.

“Speak the password,” said Drago.

“Palindrome,” replied Flame Song, “and he’s not my husband.”

Aidan’s jaw dropped and he looked at Flame Song with amazement and rage playing equal parts in his expression. “I thought I had suckered you, and you were suckering me all along!”

Flame Song felt the restraint of the spell drop away from her and she shrugged. “I guess turn about is fair play,” she said, quoting one of her Aidan’s sayings.

She felt a faint tug of regret, but dismissed it. He deserved whatever was in store for him.

“Come,” commanded Drago, and Aidan stumbled and winced as the spell dragged him in Drago’s wake. Flame Song followed them both. Drago led the way through twisting corridors and down a flight of stairs. In a dim basement hallway there were heavy oak doors with tiny barred windows. Drago directed Aidan into one such, then followed him in. Flame ducked through the door after them. “What are you going to do?” asked Flame Song.

“I’ll use a truth spell and question him,” the cleric answered.

“Won’t that cause him more pain?”

Drago nodded. “Yes. But I must know how he’s been predicting my every move, and there’s no other way to be sure his answers are truthful.”

“I suppose so… but I don’t the thought of seeing him suffer.”

Aidan had stood silently and glared at them both throughout the whole exchange, but at Flame’s words his expression softened slightly. He looked at her with puzzlement and more than a touch of suspicion. Why should she care anything about him?

“You can leave if you don’t want to watch,” said Saint Drago. “I admit I dislike causing pain when my life has been dedicated to alleviating it, but the good that will come of this far outweighs the evil.”

“I’ll stay,” said Flame. “There are a few things I need to know too.”

Drago nodded his assent and initiated the truth spell. Aidan gasped in pain as it began, then he gritted his teeth and glared even more fiercely.

“How have you been finding out my plans?” asked Drago simply.

Every word seemed to be dragged out of the mirror Aidan as he answered, “It was a spell, several of them. They allowed us to look in on you when you were planning.”

“Who put them there?”

“I did.”

“And how did you get in?”

“More than a year ago, you didn’t know me then. I came as a supplicant in disguise.”

“And is your Flame Song going to see you through the spell and come rescue you?” interjected Flame.

“No,” he replied.

“Why not?”

“Because she can’t use the spell without me,” he said. Then he added, with a malicious gleam in his eyes, “And she’ll be much too busy with her new toy to worry about me anyhow.”

“What do you mean?” asked Flame, her eyes narrowed.

Aidan grinned. “My double, that’s what I mean. She gets to corrupt me all over again. I’m sure she’s busy trying to break him right now. And she’s very good at it.”

In obvious distress, Flame Song turned to Drago. “I have to go, right now! Aidan needs me.”

Drago shook his head. “I do not think that would be wise. A few hours more or less will make little difference at this point, and to be frank you look exhausted. You will do your husband little good if you arrive so worn out you can’t stay on your feet.”

“I…” she hesitated, then gave in. “I guess you’re right.”

“Hey, this spell is still on me, Saint high-and-mighty, I-don’t-like-to-hurt-people Drago,” interrupted Aidan. “Are you done?”

“Yes,” said Saint Drago, and with a wave of his hand he released the spell. Aidan breathed out a long sigh of relief. Drago and Flame Song both left the cell. Drago closed the door after them. “There, he won’t be going anywhere,” he said.

Flame looked at him questioningly.

“It’s sealed with holy power. He won’t be able to do a thing to the door, the lock or even the walls, ceiling, and floor. I’m taking no chances this time. Now, I suggest you get some sleep. You can set out well-rested first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll show you to your room. And,” he added, “I’ll tell my followers about you, so you don’t have to worry about scaring the life out of one of them.”

Flame followed Drago, her steps suddenly heavy with weariness. She was tired, so very tired. When she reached the simple room she went directly to the bed and collapsed into it. She didn’t even bother to undress or to shift back into her natural firecat form as she usually did to sleep. She fell into a deep sleep like falling into a slow-moving river the moment her head touched the pillow.

She awoke gradually with the feeling she’d just heard somebody calling her name. Everything was very still, and she felt oddly detached from herself, as if she was still dreaming, but she knew she was awake. The call came again, but it wasn’t a call with words, it was more like a feeling. Someone was calling her, summoning her, and she must go. She made her way through empty corridors. Most of the illuminating torches had gone out, but the call guided her unerringly through the dark. She came to the stairs that descended to the basement and went down them. Somewhere in the back of her mind a little bit of her that was more awake was telling her there was something she ought to remember about the basement, but in her dreamy state she couldn’t think what it might be. Then she reached the bottom of the stairs and snapped abruptly and horribly awake. The corridor in front of her was lit only by the dim light that spilled down the stairs, but it was more than enough for Flame to see the gruesome scene before her. The door to Aidan’s cell stood open. A man in cleric’s robes was sprawled in front of it, and the floor and walls around him were covered in blood. A bloodied dagger lay on the floor a few feet away from the body. She took one step forward with the thought that the man might not be dead. As she did a dark shape dropped from the shadows of the ceiling behind her. He touched her with one hand and at his touch she was frozen, completely unable to move.

As she had known it would be, when he came around in front of her it was the mirror Aidan. He snapped his fingers and a ball of fire appeared just over his shoulder. By its light he looked at her closely.

“So strange. You are the very image of my wife, and yet you are completely unlike her. You have a softness, a compassion, that she lacks. Why is it that I am fascinated by you?” He reached up and stroked her cheek. She shivered at the touch.

“I find,” he said as he ran his fingers down her cheek, along the line of her jaw, and down her neck, “that I want you more than I have ever wanted anything. I want you more than I wanted my Flame, even when we first met and she seduced me. Why is that? What is it about you? Is it just because you are so like her and yet so unlike that you fascinate me so?” His fingers traced the path of the big vein that pulsed in her neck.

She closed her eyes tightly, as if somehow her not seeing what was sure to come would keep it from happening. So she felt rather than saw his arms encircle her. She felt the soft touch of his lips on her neck and then the sharp prick of his fangs as he broke through her skin to reach the rushing blood beneath. She had knows such kisses before, of course. Her own husband was also a vampire after all, and for him taking her blood was part of the pleasure he drew when they were together. And, because of the emotional bond formed by such exchanges, Flame Song had found such occasions to be very enjoyable. But this was a far different, far darker experience. The blood-bond was the same, but the feelings that echoed up and down it were not. Flame felt as though she had been plunged into a raging maelstrom. Aidan’s mind was awash in a dozen conflicting emotions. There was physical passion, of course, and that was foremost in those first few moments, but beneath it was a storm-tossed sea of confusion, hatred, anger, fear, and depression. Flame was overwhelmed by it. It seemed as though all of Aidan’s dark feelings were directed toward her. Her own mind shrank back from an emotional assault that was far worse than the physical assault she was being subjected to. Aidan could feel her terrified response, and an exultant delight poured through him. He reveled in the distress of this, the object of his hatred. Or was it only that she was the mirror of the true object of his unfocused rage?

While all this was surging between them, unchecked emotions pouring back and forth across the blood-bond, they remained locked in their embrace, Flame standing frozen, Aidan with his head bent to her neck. He drank deeply of her blood, relishing the flavor of her fear. Gradually Flame began to weaken. Her pulse became weaker, her breathing more shallow. I’m going to die, she thought, and somehow the thought was liberating. If death was near then there was nothing else she should fear. And with the fear any hatred she had for this dark mirror of her husband ebbed away as well. Instead she found herself regarding him with pity and compassion. He was so like her Aidan, what had life been like for him to make him what he had become? She recalled how he had said that his wife would regard her own Aidan as a new toy, and like a spoiled child with a new plaything, would try to break him. Had she then likewise broken his mirror?

Aidan, joined to her mind by the blood-bond, couldn’t read her thoughts, but he could sense her emotions, and the sudden shift confused him. His exultant delight in his revenge faded. He realized with a kind of shock that he was killing her, that she lay on death’s door at that moment. Somewhere in his heart a tiny spark of caring, perhaps even of love, flared to life. He was killing her and she must know it, yet he felt no hatred from her, only this strange compassion. Suddenly two impulses were at war in him. He had always taken as his hunger and his passion demanded. He was unaccustomed to exercising self-restraint, and yet he suddenly didn’t want her to die. He struggled for the self-control to draw back. Flame Song felt his sudden change of heart and in her own heart she cheered him on. She realized that as much as she wanted to live, she wanted nearly as much to see Aidan win over his inner darkness. How his struggle might have ended neither of them ever knew, for at that moment the corridor was flooded with light and Saint Drago leaped down the stairs and hurled Aidan bodily away from Flame.

She collapsed on the floor; whatever spell had held her in place broken. Aidan got to his feet and faced Drago with a snarl on his face. His lips were stained with blood that he didn’t bother to wipe off. He advanced and swung a fisted hand at Drago’s midsection. Drago just managed to step back and avoid the blow. He saw as Aidan’s fist whipped past that the vampire in fact held a knife, the blade turned to lie almost invisible along his wrist, the sharp edge facing outward. Had he not avoided the blow it would have gutted him. But even as he realized the danger he was in Aidan reversed his momentum and slammed the knife into Drago’s abdomen. He doubled up, clutching at the hilt of the knife that stood out of his stomach. Aidan stepped back, a hard look in his eyes. Flame Song, barely holding on to consciousness, could distantly feel his rage echoing down the fading link between them.

He turned and his eyes fell on her still form sprawled on the cold floor. Another shock of realization swept though him. He bent over her and his fingers felt for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found one. It was weak and unsteady but there. Surely in this monastery there were healers enough to save her. He rose and quickly began to ascend the stairs. Halfway up he stopped and looked back, surveying the three bodies scattered on the floor, blood pooling around two of them. Flame Song, slipping into unconsciousness, was still faintly linked to him, and the last thing she knew was his sudden feeling of regret and his surprise that any such emotion could find its way into his hardened heart.

At the same moment that the dark Aidan was winging his way into the night, leaving the bloody scene in the monastery basement behind in body, if not in mind, his double was sitting in a dim cell in the basement of the half ruined castle. When he had first awoken in the dank room he had been confident of his ability to escape without any difficulty. A brief examination of the door however, showed that he had been mistaken. Instead of a keyhole, the door had a hexagonal indentation in the lock plate. He’d encountered a few such during his years as an active member of the thieves’ guild. It was a magical lock that would open only at the touch of a certain rod on which the matching spell had been cast. There were ways to foil a magical lock, but they all required preparations he hadn’t made and tools he didn’t have.

So he had resigned himself to a lengthy stay. He could only hope that his wife had fared better than he had. The fact that by the time three days had passed she hadn’t been thrown into the cell along with him he took to be a good sign. From time to time the other Flame Song peered in at him through a tiny barred window. He found it rather disturbing how much she looked like his wife. Her bearing and habitual expressions were vastly different, but her features were precisely the same. It was downright eerie at times.

So far she hadn’t said anything to him, she simply stared for a while, then left. Her visits were the only variety in his confined existence, though he didn’t exactly look forward to them. There was no delivery of meals, and the traditional prisoner’s fare of bread and water would have done him little good had it been provided. His nutritional needs were quite different, and they were beginning to become a problem. He usually fed about every other night, and as he hadn’t fed the night he’d been captured, it had now been four full days since he’d last eaten. Hunger was a constant gnawing presence in his stomach and he was beginning to wonder how long he could hold out. The longest he’d ever gone without food before had been six days, and by the end he’d been in a sorry state.

He was sitting on the floor and counting the stones in the opposite wall out of sheer boredom when he heard two sets of footsteps approaching his cell. His keen hearing could distinguish them clearly. One set belonged to the mirror Flame Song, the other was a heavier tread that he’d heard dimly overhead before. He presumed it must belong to some servant or companion of his captor. Both sets of feet halted before his door. Then the door swung inward. The figure that stepped in through the open door was massive. The dim light was more than sufficient for Aidan’s sensitive eyes to identify the creature that loomed over him as a male minotaur. His bovine head, complete with an impressive spread of horns, cast a shadow over Aidan. He reached down and closed one huge hand over Aidan’s arm and hauled him to his feet. Standing, Aidan barely came up to the minotaur’s chest. As a vampire his strength was far greater than his size indicted so he might have fought the minotaur and won, despite the difference in size, but he wasn’t sure of it. And besides, he still had his mission. He might get some opportunity to discover how the mirror couple had known he and his wife were coming.

So he came along meekly enough as Flame led the way through crumbling corridors and into a section of the castle that was in better repair. He recognized the hallway where he’d been captured. Flame led the way down the hall and into the room at the end with the minotaur still towing Aidan along. Once they were inside the minotaur released him and left, shutting the door behind him without a word.

Aidan took a moment to survey the room. It was lavishly decorated in dark colors, a deep red predominating. A full-length mirror hung on one wall and its reflection of the room showed Flame Song but neglected to reflect Aidan. The dominating feature of the room, however, was a huge four-poster bed. Together with the seductive smile that his wife’s double was aiming in his direction the bed gave him an unpleasant suspicion. She was eyeing him from head to toe with a lascivious look that his own Flame Song would never have shown, especially not to someone other than her husband.

Apparently she liked what she saw. Aidan was still without his shirt, as his double had taken it in order to impersonate him. He was wearing only his trousers and the black iron collar that he never removed. His feet were bare, which was quite habitual for him. As a vampire he didn’t feel the cold, so he seldom bothered with footwear, especially when sneaking, as a squeaky shoe could get him into a lot of trouble. As far as he was concerned the only purpose for boots was to have somewhere to hide a boot dagger and a couple of lock picks. His shirtless figure was slightly built and very lean, but well muscled nevertheless. His face was clean-shaven despite three days without access to a razor. He’d discovered since becoming a vampire that his hair no longer grew, which was convenient since it would have been difficult to shave without the use of a mirror.

His wings were folded tightly against his back, the aerian equivalent in body language of folding one’s arms closely. He was downright unnerved by the situation, but tried to return the mirror Flame’s appraising gaze without flinching. She was dressed in a clinging low-cut gown of green velvet. Her hair was loose about her shoulders and her intense green eyes bored into his own. She stepped closer to him and he involuntarily backed up a step. She laughed, a low, throaty sound, and moved in closer. Aidan took only two more steps before he found his back to the wall. She had him cornered and she took advantage of it. She ran her fingers down his bare chest, stopping when she reached his belt line and lingering for a moment before going up again. He pressed back against the wall. Anger or attack he could have dealt with, but this? She laughed again and said, “You’re quite handsome. I’d say you were more handsome than my husband, but you’d know I was lying.” She ran her hands through her hair and tilted her head back in a sensual motion that emphasized the line of her neck. “Am I not beautiful?” she said. He realized he was staring and broke off his gaze. Inwardly he was repeating to himself, this is not my wife, this is not my wife. She stepped close again and kissed him. He turned his head away and she began kissing his cheek and neck and nibbling on his ear. Despite himself his own body was responding to what she was doing. He could hear the rush of her heart, smell the heady scent of her, and it was impossible to ignore. He stepped to the side, trying to break free. She let him, smiling in amusement at his flushed face. He got away from the wall and moved closer to the middle of the room.

She advanced on him again and again he helplessly backed away. His head was in a whirl, he couldn’t think straight. “I know you,” she said, that seductive smile still on her lips. “I know your every weakness, your every want and desire. I know you want me. There’s no point in resisting. You can’t deny your feelings. Listen to them, they are telling you what you really want.” With every word she stepped closer and he backed away. It was only when the edge of the bed bumped against the back of his legs that he realized she’d been maneuvering him into position.

She advanced on him and the only place to go was onto the bed, which he did not want to do. He stood frozen by his confusion as she pressed her body to his. She kissed him again on the lips. Her arms went around him and she whispered again, “I know what you need.” He tried to calm himself, tried to remember who she was, who he was. This wasn’t right! Then she lifted her hand to her own neck and one long manicured fingernail dug into her throat. She broke the skin and a few red drops oozed out. Aidan stared. Huger rose up in him and mingled with the storm of emotion that enveloped him. Four days was a long time. His hunger was terribly, horrifyingly strong, and for him blood was more than simply food. The hunger he felt was a mixture of ordinary craving and passionate desire. He tried to force it away, but it insisted. The scent of blood seemed heavy in the air, despite the few drops that caused it. He wanted… he needed… and at last he could deny his hunger no longer. With a low moan he fell on her neck, his fangs opening deeper wounds from which her blood freely flowed.

He was immediately aware of her mind touching his. Or no, not touching, engulfing, drawing him in. Her emotions were strong, and the blaze of pure physical passion that poured from her was impossible to resist. He was drawn into it, his own passion rising. He lost all thought, all memory, all consciousness of right or wrong. He knew nothing but the intensity of the feelings that spiraled upward in a feedback loop of pleasure.

What they did then was not making love. Love didn’t enter into it. The emotions that lay beneath the sea of the dark Flame Song’s passion were not love and tenderness, they were instead a twisted mixture of fascination, contempt, and an overpowering desire to control. The pleasure they shared was tainted and dark and when at last it was over and Aidan came back to himself he turned away from her, curled up into a ball of misery, and wept.

The mirror Flame Song rose from the bed. She watched him for a while, and Aidan was sure the look of sardonic amusement he’d first seen on her face was back. He stayed where he was with his eyes shut, tears trickling down his cheeks, but he heard her move away from the bed and could tell by the change in her footsteps that she had shifted into her firecat form. She must be feeling some weakness from blood loss, but she obviously wasn’t going to show it to him. Her soft padding steps went out the door and it shut behind her.

Gradually Aidan began to pull himself together. He found his trousers and pulled them on. He was looking at the empty mirror and wishing he could see if he looked as bad as he felt when the door opened again. He looked up to see the minotaur’s bovine face regarding the empty mirror with something like curiosity. The minotaur advanced into the room and took him by the arm again. He didn’t resist. Perhaps he might have successfully escaped then, with Flame Song’s interest elsewhere, but he was too worn and numb to even think of it.

He welcomed the cool darkness of his cell. His mind was still reeling from what had happened. How could he have lost control so utterly? He had sworn he would never again betray his wife, and yet at the first temptation to do so he had given in. He pictured the scene just passed a thousand times and saw a thousand better things he might have done. So why had he given in? Why? He didn’t even notice when the minotaur locked the door behind him. He had a lot of serious thinking to do.

It was two days, or rather nights, later before the door again opened. Aidan had finished his thinking. Two days is a long time when there is nothing else to do but sit and think. So he’d sat, or stood, or paced, and thought. And as the sun rose, bringing the second night to a close, Aidan at last reached a state of calm.

So when the door opened showing the dark Flame Song and her minotaur servant standing in the hallway he didn’t react with the fear and confusion that might have otherwise filled him. The calm he’d found was deeply rooted and not easily upset. He felt he could accept anything that came. What did come was a little bit surprising, though he might have anticipated it had he thought. Flame Song wanted to break him, to bend him to her will. And so she had played on his weaknesses, his hunger, his low resistance to temptation, and gotten him to do something that ran against his nature, something wrong, even evil. She wanted to humiliate him and make him think he was helpless in her power. And now that she’d gotten him to give in to her in one way, commit one evil, she was trying another tack.

The minotaur held a girl with her hands tied behind her back. She was young, about fifteen or sixteen years old, with blond hair and brown eyes that were wide with terror. The minotaur propelled her into the cell. She stumbled and fell but couldn’t catch herself with her hands tied. Aidan darted forward and caught her before she could hit her head. He looked up at the mirror Flame Song questioningly.

She smiled down at him with a malicious gleam in her eyes. “I thought you might appreciate a meal, so I’ve brought you one. Enjoy.” And with that she turned and left, the door shutting firmly behind her.

Aidan gently put the girl down on the floor. She continued to stare at him with that look of wide-eyed terror. He dug out a tiny hidden dagger that rested in a special sheath at the small of his back. He was pretty sure that the mirror Flame Song knew he had it and hadn’t been concerned. With one quick slash he cut the rope that tied her. He re-sheathed the knife and stepped back to give her some space, going to stand in one corner. The girl didn’t get up; she just scooted to the opposite corner of the room. She pressed against the wall as if she would melt back into it to get away from him.

“It’s all right child, I won’t hurt you,” he said in a soft, soothing tone.

She just pressed back against the wall harder, hugging her knees in a fetal position.

“Here now, you’re over there and I promise I’ll stay over here. In fact,” he said as he again pulled out his hidden dagger, “I’ll let you have this. If I take even one step in your direction you can peg me with it.” He put the dagger on the floor and slid it across the room. It came to a halt a foot in front of the girl. She looked at it for a moment as if it might bite her, and then snatched it up.

“Why did you give me this? You’re Aidan, right? Aren’t you going to… to…” she couldn’t finish the sentence, though Aidan was sure the unspoken words had to do with his vampirism.

He sighed. “No, I’m not. And I’m not Aidan either. At least not the one you’re thinking of. You could say I’m his twin.”

“You’re not Aidan?” She was still terrified, but she was also a little bit curious.

“No.”

‘Then who are you?”

“Well, that’s a rather complicated question. My name is actually Aidan. I’m from another world, one that’s a kind of mirror of this one. So I’m a mirror of the other Aidan.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t have to trust me, in fact it would be better if you didn’t. I’ll just stay over here and you can stay over there and we’ll both be safe.”

He sat down in his corner and leaned his head against the wall. He could sense the sun rising high in the sky outside, though no hint of its light reached the dim cell. With the sun rising higher in the sky a deep tiredness and lethargy stole over him and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep.

Sometime during the day he came halfway awake, dimly aware of a presence looming over him. It took a moment for his brain, still fogged with sleep to realize who it was. The girl, whose name he still didn’t know, was standing over him, no doubt with his dagger clutched in her hand. He remained still, keeping his eyes closed and waiting to see what she would do. She stood there for a very long time before she turned and retreated to the far corner. Aidan relaxed and went back to sleep.

Aidan awoke again as the sun disappeared below the horizon. He yawned and sat up, looking over at the girl still sitting in the opposite corner. Her head leaned on her drawn-up knees and he realized that she was asleep. He got to his feet and stretched. The sense of complete calm was still with him. It was a bit strange to be in such dire circumstances and feel so at peace, but he was. He stretched out his wings. He did wish he was out of this confining cell and back with his wife, but since he was stuck here he might as well make the best of it. I’ve come a long way, he thought, suddenly remembering his helpless despair all those years ago when the Vampire Lord Drago had held him prisoner. But there’s still a long way to go.

He glanced again at the girl and found her awake and staring at him. He folded his wings and smiled at her. “You know, I don’t even know your name,” he said.

“I’m Celia,” she said. “Are you really from another world?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I am. Not that it’s much different from your world, really.”

“Are you…? I saw you sleeping and it looked like you weren’t breathing. Are you a vampire?”

He sighed, needing to deliberately draw breath in order to do so. “Yes, I am.”

“But you said you wouldn’t hurt me,” she said, fear returning to her voice.

“I did, and I meant it. I won’t touch you. I promise.”

“I thought vampires had to have blood every night.”

He shook his head. “Not every night, no. I can go some time without feeding. And when I’ve given my word, I keep it. I won’t touch you.”

There was a long pause, and Aidan could tell Celia was thinking. At last she asked, “Why did you become a vampire?”

Aidan laughed. “I didn’t exactly have a choice. It was the last thing I wanted.”

“Oh.” She was silent again for a while, then opened her mouth to ask another question. Before she could they both heard footsteps and voices in the hall outside. A moment later the door opened and someone was literally thrown into the room. Aidan and Celia both gaped, for it was the mirror Aidan. He picked himself up gingerly from where he’d landed. “You big oaf,” he muttered at the minotaur who was already closing the cell door.

Celia stared at the mirror Aidan, the terrified look back in her eyes. She got to her feet and, staying as far as she could from where he stood in the center of the room, she made her way around until she was standing by the other Aidan’s side. “You were telling the truth, you really are his twin,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied, and put his arm around her protectively.

His double looked at them wordlessly. Then he crossed the room to the corner Celia had jut vacated and sat down. He looked downright depressed. Aidan, rather puzzled by his double’s presence asked him, “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m in the dog house with Flame,” came the reply. “I’ve gone and let slip our little secret, ruined our little game, and she’s not at all happy about it.” He sighed. “There are days when I wish fervently I’d never met her, and this is definitely one of them.”

Aidan smiled wryly. “I can second that motion. I wish I’d never come here.” Then a thought occurred to him. “How was my wife when you last saw her? I presume she’s the one that got the secret of how you’ve been spying on Drago out of you.”

Well…” a haunted look came into the mirror Aidan’s eyes. “I… I have to confess she wasn’t well. You’ll probably want to kill me, and I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve… I’ve done some things I find myself regretting a great deal.”

His twin’s eyes blazed and he got to his feet and stepped forward with anger in every line of his body. “What did you do to her?”

The dark Aidan hung his head. “I’m sorry,” was all he said.

“If you killed her, you’re right, but I’ll more than want to kill you, I’ll do it!”

“No. She… she’ll live, though not through any action of mine. I…” he looked up and Aidan was surprised to see tears gathering in his double’s eyes. “I could kill myself for what I’ve done. I hurt her badly, and I didn’t even think. I didn’t even recognize real goodness when I saw it. I’ve fallen so far, and I somehow never saw, never realized what I’d become. And then I saw what I’d done to her and I knew. I’m lost. I’ve lost myself and I don’t know how to find myself again.”

Aidan’s expression softened. He suddenly found himself feeling pity for his twin. “I… I guess I won’t kill you then. Though maybe I should.”

The mirror Aidan sighed. “Maybe it would be better if you did.”

Celia spoke up in the silence that followed. “I don’t understand. Who are you talking about?”

“My wife,” answered Aidan. “She’s the mirror of his,” he motioned towards his double, “and she couldn’t be more different. She’s the most amazingly wonderful person in the world. She’s the one who turned my life around, gave me something worth living for.”

His twin looked up again at this and laughed bitterly. “You could say my wife turned my life around too, though not in a good way.” At his double’s questioning look he said, “I suppose I might as well tell you the whole story. Time is one thing we have plenty of.” He sighed softly and settled himself into a more comfortable position against the wall as he began his story.

“I was living in Aerievale, making a respectable living as a mage when I met her. I was bored, to tell the truth, and she played on that. I don’t think I’d ever done an illegal thing in my life before then, but she showed me how to have a good time, and in more than a few ways that were outside the law. She fascinated me. She was wild, seductive, beautiful, and exciting. She reeled me in like a fish on a line.” He shook his head wryly. “I can see now how skillfully I was manipulated, but then I was so innocent. She got me to do first one thing, then another, and the next thing I knew I was up to my eyeballs in evil, and I reveled in it. I thought I’d been set free from the ‘limits’ of society.

“It wasn’t long before I started playing power games. She had me firmly under her thumb, but I wanted to think I was in control. So I looked for ways to get power over her. That was how I ended up becoming a vampire. I decided that it would give me the edge I needed, but all it did was give her another thing to use against me. By that time I was fully into her evil. We enjoyed terrorizing the locals, and we began to make a game of hunting down ‘do-gooders.’ And I guess you know where that led. Drago brought you here, and now…” he paused. “Now I find myself thinking of might-have-beens. I thought I wanted power, I thought I wanted the thrill of freedom from the constraint of law, or goodness, or whatever, but now I’ve seen what I gave up by wanting so-called freedom.” He sighed again and said, “All of the sudden I see that what I really want… what I really want is what you have. And I’m afraid I’ve gone too far to go back. I’m afraid I’ve lost my soul completely.”

There was a long silence. The mirror Aidan put his head on his knees and wrapped his wings around him tightly. His double sat back down and leaned against the wall, thinking. Celia looked back and forth between them, as though she were trying to see the differences that lay in their hearts, invisible. After a long time Aidan spoke. “You know, my story is almost an exact reversal of yours. I guess we really are mirrors of each other.”

“Would you mind telling me?” asked his twin.

“Why not? Like you said, we’ve got plenty of time.” He looked at the ceiling for a moment, remembering. “I was in Aerievale too, but I wasn’t making a respectable living, quite the opposite, in fact. I was a scruffy little thief. I’ve always had a touch of kleptomania, and I was letting it run wild. I got into a lot of trouble, even spent some time in jail, but I’ve always had a gift for locks, and they couldn’t keep me in. Mage locks now, that’s another matter, which is why I’m still in here. Anyhow, one day I stole something I shouldn’t have. This,” he tapped the iron collar around his neck. “You’ll have to tell me someday how you got yours. Well anyhow, I thought I could get away with it, but I didn’t. I got caught. And for once I found myself in a mess I couldn’t weasel out of. Then Flame turned up. She rescued me, brought me to her home, and nursed me back to health. She didn’t look down on me for being a thief. She just cared for me. And I came to care for her. I had thought I would never find anybody who could love a nobody like me, but she did. And I loved her. She helped me turn my life around. She made me want to be the best I could be. I had to somehow live up to her, to what she was. The vampirism… well, that wasn’t my idea. But that’s another story altogether.

“I just thought of something though,” he added after a brief pause. “I can’t pick a mage lock, but you’re a mage. Can you get us out of here?”

The mirror Aidan shook his head. “No. I was a complete fool for doing it, but I made the cell for Flame to keep magically talented prisoners in, and it’s so well shielded I can’t so much as summon mage fire, let alone undo the lock. I should have left myself a back door, but I guess I never really thought she’d throw me in here. I’ve been with her more than a decade now, you’d think I’d quit underestimating her.”

“Oh well. I was hoping… but I guess we’ll be stuck here a while longer.”

“A while? We could be here to the end of time.”

“No.” Aidan shook his head and smiled. “You said my Flame Song is alive, so she’ll come for me. I have faith in her. As long as she lives she won’t leave me here. And when she comes for me she can let you two” he gestured at Celia and his twin, “out as well.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” asked the mirror Aidan.

“Because I trust my wife, because I’ve reached a certain decision about my own actions, and because I’ve also realized that I’m not responsible for any one else’s.”

“What do you mean, ‘a certain decision?’”

“Have you ever sworn to yourself that you’ll never, ever, do something and then the next thing you know somehow you’ve given in and you’re doing it?”

The mirror Aidan laughed bitterly. “A thousand times.”

“Three years ago I did something that hurt my wife very much. I betrayed her, and I felt that she would never forgive me. But she did. She loved me enough to take me back after what I’d done, and I swore then that I would never betray her again. And then I did. Afterward I cursed myself for a fool a hundred times. I tried to see how I could have done it, how I could have given in so easily, and after a lot of thinking I came to the conclusion that when I’d sworn that first time I’d mentally left myself a loophole. I said ‘never’ but what I meant was ‘never unless I have no choice, never unless I’m tempted so badly I can’t resist.’ And so, of course, it wasn’t too long before I was so tempted. And I gave in. People do that. We have in our minds the idea that under the right conditions almost anything can be excusable. We call it ‘extenuating circumstances.’ So I thought to myself, ‘self, if this really matters that much, if it is truly important to you that you never again betray Flame Song, then you have to promise with no exceptions. Not even one. You have to promise and mean it.’ And I thought to myself, if it came down to the choice, die or betray Flame again, what would I choose? And I realized that this really meant enough to me to die instead. Before I hadn’t really meant it. But now I do. I know for certain I’ll never again betray her. There are no exceptions, not even one tiny thing. Nothing, never, under no circumstances. And I mean it. Other people’s choices are up to them, but in one thing at least I’ve made my choice.”

His twin shook his head. “How can you say that? How can you be so certain?”

Aidan just shrugged. “It’s a matter of priorities. Of what I’ve decided is important. My family is the most important thing to me, bar none.”

“But you said ‘not even one tiny thing.’ How can some small slip-up be more important than life?”

“Let me use an example you might relate to. Besides swearing that I will never betray Flame Song again, I’ve also sworn that I will not let my hunger rule me. I will never take innocent blood that is not willingly given. Never. I have in the past, and it’s been a weak spot, something your own wife has used against me. I don’t want to be so used, so I’ve decided I won’t be. Your Flame Song threw Celia in here thinking that I would eventually become hungry enough that I’d be unable to resist the temptation to harm her. But,” he smiled reassuringly at the girl, “she doesn’t need to have any worries on that score. I’ve sworn, and I’ve left myself no loopholes. Before I might have decided I don’t want to hurt her, and with the best of intentions I’d say to myself that I wouldn’t touch her, but in the back of my mind I would have the idea that my hunger would eventually reach the point where I wasn’t in control, and so when that happened I would think in the back of my mind, ‘if I hurt her it won’t be my fault, since I don’t have a choice.’ But that’s where I’d be wrong. My actions are always my fault, my responsibility, no matter what the circumstances. Or I might tell myself ‘it won’t really hurt, I’ll just take a little, just a bit, she’ll be all right.’ But that would be a lie too. Even a single drop would be breaking my promise. If I know that and fully accept that as the truth, then I know also that I will not break my word. And I won’t.”

His double shook his head. “I don’t know… How can you be so sure? What wrong is there in taking ‘one little drop,’ like you said?”

Aidan shrugged again. “There’s no real difference between a small wrong and a large one. Wrong is wrong. I’ve thought this over and I’m certain of it. Though if we’re left in here too much longer my ideals will get a real life testing.” He smiled wryly. “I hope all the moralizing and speechmaking hasn’t bored you.”

“No, I think it’s given me something to think about. I… I feel like I want to change, to do something about my own life, but I wonder if I’ve already gone too far. I’ve become a monster. Just look at how Celia looks at me. The people around here couldn’t be more afraid of Count Dracula himself. And then I think about you. I never really thought about what my life might be like if I hadn’t been corrupted, but now I just keep wondering. I keep saying to myself ‘what if…?’ It’s driving my crazy.”

Aidan looked at his twin. He’d never seen that heartbroken expression on his own features, but that was only because by the time he’d had cause for that kind of sorrow he’d ceased to show up in mirrors. He could sympathize rather closely with his double’s fears, though he was sure he’d never done a lot of the things his twin had done. But still, his own past was far from unspotted. “I don’t think it’s too late. If I can turn over a new leaf after some of the things I’ve done, then maybe you can too.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“No I don’t. But tell me this: do you honestly regret every single evil you’ve done? Don’t just answer, really think about it.”

His double closed his eyes and thought. After a long time he said, “Yes.”

Aidan grinned. “Then there’s hope for you yet.”

They passed the rest of that evening comparing their lives. They found a great many similarities and, of course, a great many differences. Celia dozed off around midnight and Aidan kept his arm around her protectively. Her trust in him was oddly comforting. It strengthened his resolve to stick to his newly made promises.

As the sun rose on a new day the mirror Aidan said, “You know, I think you’re right. I think there may be some hope for me after all. I think… I think I’ll try to join your promise.” He looked at Celia, who was sleeping soundly with her head on his twin’s shoulder. An expression of tenderness was on his face, mixed with wonder that such a feeling could exist in his heart. “I find that I care about her. I don’t want her to be hurt. She’s so innocent.” He smiled then, a soft smile that somewhat surprised his twin. “It will be a test for me. If I can keep myself from hurting her then I know I’m not beyond redemption.”

Aidan smiled back. “Hey, I know you can do it. You’re me, after all, and I know I can. I think we really are like mirror images, more alike than not.”

“Yeah… I hope so anyway.”

“I know so. Have a little faith.”

“You know this is really weird. I’m sitting here getting a pep talk from myself.”

Aidan laughed. “No kidding. Weird doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

His double yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not very coherent after sunup. I think I’ll take a nap.”

Aidan nodded. “Sounds like a good idea.” He leaned his head against the wall, stretching out his feet and trying to get comfortable. A few minutes later all three of them were soundly asleep.

Flame Song awoke to find herself in a soft bed with sunlight streaming in through a wide-open window. For a moment she entertained the fantasy that last night had been a dream, but then she raised her hand to her neck and found the two little puncture marks there. So, it hadn’t been a dream after all. She tried to sit up but when she did her head swam and she had to lie back down. She felt horribly weak. She hadn’t been lying there long when the door to the room opened and a young man she didn’t know stepped in. He looked rather hesitant, hovering in the doorway as if afraid to come into the room.

“Um… Flame Song?”

“Yes?” she said, surprised at how thin and weak her voice sounded.

“I… Drago said I should see if you’re all right. I guess you er, you lost a lot of blood, and he was worried.”

“He’s alive then?”

“Yes. It was a near thing, but we found him in time. I…” he still looked like he was ready to bolt from the room, “I’m a good healer. He said I should see if you needed any healing.”

“I think I could use something. I feel very weak. You can come in, I don’t bite.”

He edged a foot or so further into the room, then with a deep breath he walked almost normally the rest of the way over to her bed. Flame Song didn’t move. She didn’t want to faint, for one thing, and she didn’t want the healer to faint for another. He slowly put out his hand and placed it on her forehead. He closed his eyes and dropped into a healing trance. When he opened them again all the fear was gone from his manner. “What happened to you? I’ve never seen anybody so anemic and still alive!”

“I hope you won’t mind if I tell the story another time. Can you do anything to help?”

“Yes. We don’t have the means to do a transfusion, but I can encourage your own body to replace the blood faster. You’ll be weak for a few days, but you’ll recover much faster. And you need to eat a lot of iron-rich foods.”

“Yes, I know about that. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve lost a lot of blood, though…” she stopped as the horrible memory of what had taken pace hit her again. “Though never quite like this,” she finished at last. She hadn’t really sorted out her feelings about last night. They were mixed, to say the least.

The healer didn’t ask any more questions. He put his hand on her head again and dropped back into his healing trance. She could feel a kind of warmth wash over her from the point where his hand touched her. It sank soothingly into her very bones. A long time later he removed his hand. He looked older suddenly, and more worn. “I’ve done what I can. For now you need rest. I’ll be back later with something for you to eat.”

She didn’t even manage to nod her assent before sleep again overtook her and she drifted off.

When she awoke again the sun was no longer shining directly in the window. Somebody had added a chair to the room and the young healer was sitting in it.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“A little bit better,” she responded.

“You hungry?”

“Yes!” she said, suddenly realizing that she was absolutely ravenous.

He smiled. “That’s a good sign. Wait a moment, I’ll get you something.” He got to his feet and hurried out of the room. Flame’s stomach growled audibly and she hoped that he would return quickly. She got her wish, for he soon came back with a tray balanced on one hand. She managed to sit up and he placed the tray on her lap and removed the cover with a little flourish. “I hope you like liver and greens,” he said.

“One of my favorite meals, though not really the greens part.” she responded, “but right now I could eat it raw, greens and all.” She didn’t waste any further time on conversation, but dug into her food. The young healer returned to his chair and watched her devouring her meal with a pleased expression on his face. When the last scrap was gone he took the tray away. He returned and asked if he could have another look at her. Flame Song assented, and the healer placed his hand on her forehead again. When he withdrew it he was smiling.

“Very good. You’re recovering nicely. You’ll need to avoid overexertion for the next week or so, but you should be out of bed soon. In fact if you like I can help you up and we’ll take a walk right now.”

“By all means! I want to be out of here as soon as possible.” She sat up again, threw back the blanket, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. With the healer standing at her side she carefully got to her feet. Her head still spun a bit, but she managed to stay upright. Leaning a bit on the healer she circled the room twice before returning to sit on the bed.

“I haven’t thanked you yet, so I would like to. Thank you very much.” She paused then said, “You know, I don’t even know your name?”

“Damien,” he replied with a smile. “And you are Flame Song, though you’re also not Flame Song. I didn’t believe there were two of you at first, it seemed to wild a story.”

“Damien…” a faint expression of pain crossed her face briefly. That name carried a baggage of memories for her, and few of them were good. She shook off the past and turned her attention to the rest of his statement. “So that’s why you were so nervous when you came in the first time! You looked like you thought I’d eat you, or something.”

He shrugged, looking a little bit chagrined. “That’s pretty much what I was thinking. I’ve seen a few people after the other Flame was finished with them and it wasn’t pretty.”

Flame Song was abruptly reminded that her husband was still a captive of her darker self. “Can I see Saint Drago?” she asked.

“I don’t see why not. He’s up and about, though still a bit unsteady on his feet. But I think you’re quite well enough to make the trip to his room.”

She got to her feet again, already feeling a bit stronger, and together they made their way down a corridor, around a corner, and to Saint Drago’s room.

He was lying on his bed, propped up on a stack of pillows. He smiled when he saw Flame and said, “Damien told me you seemed to be doing better. I’m glad you weren’t permanently harmed.”

Damien helped Flame to a chair near the bed. She sat down gratefully. “How are you? When I saw him stab you I thought you were dead!”

“Thanks to the healing skills of my followers I am fine. A bit weak still, but by tomorrow I should be my old self. And at least we got the information we were after. The spy spells have all been found and destroyed.”

“That’s good,” said Flame rather distractedly. Her attention was elsewhere. “How long before I can go after Aidan?”

“Which one?”

“Hmmm? Oh, my husband, of course! He’s still a prisoner as far as I know.”

“Well, I had wondered if you wanted revenge on the other Aidan for what he did to you. He very nearly killed you, you know.”

“I… I know. But I don’t want revenge. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. And…” she paused, trying to find the words for her feelings. “I think if he’s still feeling what he was feeling when he left here, he’s being punished enough. I think his conscience is waking up, and that isn’t a very easy experience.”

“You renew my faith in human nature, Flame Song,” said Saint Drago with a smile. “Although in your case ‘human’ isn’t exactly the right word.”

“Well thank you. But you haven’t answered my question. Ho soon can I go?”

“I think that is up to your physician,” said Drago, looking at Damien.

Damien shrugged his shoulders. “You’ll be mostly recovered by tomorrow, but I wouldn’t advise any long trips or heavy exertion for three or four more days after that at the very least.”

“I don’t want to wait that long! My husband is being held prisoner and anything could happen to him!”

Damien shook his head. “You can go tomorrow if you really feel that strongly, but be aware that you won’t be in the best condition when you arrive. I’d strongly advise that you at least wait a couple of days.”

Flame song scowled. That wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. She knew Damien was right. Just walking down the hall had left her feeling weak, but she wanted to go now! She sighed. “I’ll wait two days.”

“I know how hard this is for you,” said Drago. “But I know too that you’re doing the wise thing. Go with my blessing.”

And so she went. She spent two days regaining her strength and set out first thing on the third morning. She chose to travel in her natural form, thinking she would make better speed while conserving more energy that way. She set off at an easy lope, making good time down the hard-packed road that led south from the monastery. Before long she reached the forest. She kept to the road, sparing a moment to wonder if this was the spot where that poor bard had been killed. When night fell she decided to stop and rest. It would delay her journey, but she would do Aidan no good if she arrived utterly exhausted. She found a sheltered spot and curled up to sleep.

She didn’t bother with a fire. Though the night was chill her thick fur was more than sufficient to protect her. So when she woke in the morning and smelled smoke she knew it wasn’t from her little campsite. For a moment she thought about taking a winged form and looking for the source of the scent, but she was in too much of a hurry. So she continued down the road.

She hadn’t gotten far before a distant sound caught her attention. It was a human sound, and a distressed human sound at that. Flame debated with herself whether she should do anything about it. Time was of the essence and she was going to rescue her husband, but somewhere nearby somebody needed help, and in the end Flame couldn’t just pass them by. A narrow track turned off of the main road in the direction of the cries she had heard, so she followed it deeper into the woods.

Soon she could hear a second sound underlying the first. It was a roaring crackle of flames, and the smoky scent was getting stronger by the second. She could make out words now; a man’s voice was calling for help alternately with shouting someone’s name. Then Flame Song came around a corner and saw the scene. There was a house, that caught her attention first, and it was on fire. It was a cottage, really. Small and no doubt cozy before the fire ruined that. Flames licked out the lower windows and crept upward. In front of the house stood a young man. He looked disheveled and distressed. His clothing was marked with burns and blackened by smoke, but he didn’t seem to care. All of his attention was directed toward the house.

Flame Song didn’t need to see anything more to guess what was going on. The man had noticed the fire and gotten out, but someone he cared for was still inside. Perhaps he had tried to go in after whoever it was only to be driven back by the unbearable heat of the flames. She dashed up to the man and said, “Is there someone still in there?”

He was so upset he wasn’t even startled by the appearance of a huge white and orange cat, he just said, “Yes! My wife is in there!”

Flame didn’t wait to hear more, she launched herself at the burning house. As she entered the flame-filled doorway she held her breath. She was a firecat, and to her people fire was a friend, not a foe. A part of her heritage was a natural immunity to heat and flame. It did not, however, extend to immunity from the problems associated with smoke inhalation, so she would have to be quick.

She made her way through the lower floors, checking every room and pausing every so often to put her nose to the ground to breathe in the clearer air found near the floor. The lower part of the house was filled with fire, but upstairs the flames were still getting a foothold, though the smoke was bad. In a room upstairs Flame found the woman she was looking for. She was out cold on the floor, probably a victim of smoke inhalation herself. Flame coughed a few times. Up here there was no clear air by the floor. She would have to get out fast.

Flame Song quickly ran her options through her mind. She couldn’t take the woman back the way she’d come. Flame had no way of sharing her fire immunity, and the downstairs was full of flames. So, out a window was her only option then. She shifted into aerian form and scooped the unconscious woman up in her arms, glad that the woman had a small build. Then Flame went to the window and, spreading her wings, jumped out. With the doubled weight she couldn’t actually fly, but she managed a kind of controlled fall that saw them both safely to the ground.

The man rushed up and took his wife from Flame’s arms. Out in the fresh air she was already starting to come around. She coughed violently several times before opening her eyes. Flame Song too was still coughing. She’d inhaled more smoke than was good for her. She sat down wearily on the ground. All that excitement hadn’t been good for her weakened system either.

The young man came over and began thanking her profusely. Flame Song shook her head. “I only did what anyone would have done if they could have. And she’s not safe yet. You’re going to want to get a good healer to see to her. She inhaled a lot of smoke, and that’s not good.”

The man nodded and thanked her again. Flame felt a little bit uncomfortable. She really hadn’t done anything that unusual! She got to her feet, saying again, “I’m sure you would have done the same thing in my place. But I need to get going. Don’t forget to see a healer.” She waved and set off into the woods, shifting into firecat from as she went.

When she stopped that night she was still in the forest. She took the time to give herself a thorough grooming. Her fur was stained with soot and smoke. It took a long time before it was clean and white again.

When she awoke in the morning she still felt tired and drained. She knew she should rest longer, but she couldn’t bring herself to. It had been far too long since she’d left her husband behind at the doubles’ castle. Anything could have happened in that time.

It was not long after noon when she came to the edge of the forest. Ahead were settled lands with fenced fields and small farms scattered here and there. A little village was just visible in the distance. Flame had hardly emerged from the eaves of the forest when she saw a man on horseback coming her direction. The bow slung behind his back identified him as a hunter, probably headed for the forest in search of game. He pulled his horse to a halt when he saw her. Her keen ears picked up his whisper of shocked alarm. “By all the gods! ‘Tis the devil cat!” He whipped his bow off of his back and knocked an arrow. Flame, confused at his reaction but not wanting to stick around and get shot, dodged off of the road and into the hedge that lined it. An arrow whistled after her. She raced across the field, a second arrow and then a third chasing after her but fortunately missing before she made it over a low rise and out of range. She stopped, panting.

It didn’t take her long to figure out that she’d been mistaken for her double. This close to the dark Flame Song’s castle the people were probably wary of her depredations. Flame sighed. This was going to be very inconvenient. When she poked her head over the rise to see if the hunter was going to follow her, she saw a trail of dust disappearing toward the little village.

Apparently the hunter had raised the alarm, for she spent the rest of that day dodging armed villagers. She shifted forms a dozen times, but the size limitations that kept her from assuming any form much smaller than human made things difficult. Deer, ponies, wolves, and other such forms were all far too conspicuous to pass through town in. At last after being chased up and down half the countryside she hit on a shape that worked. In the form of a large mongrel dog she snuck through town and headed down the road. She didn’t like canines, but a cat had to do what a cat had to do. And as if to top off her wonderful day, as she finally left the village it began to rain.

She was still miles from the castle when she stopped for the night. She was wet, she stunk of wet dog, she was utterly exhausted, and she was utterly miserable. She was still coughing too, and that worried her. By this time all the smoke should be out of her lungs. She tried to find a dry place to spend the night, at last finding an abandoned shed with a mostly intact roof not too far off the road. She curled up inside, still in canine form. She didn’t want somebody to stumble on the “devil cat” during the night. She was far too tired to deal with any further attacks.

But when she woke in the morning to see the rain still coming down she found she’d spontaneously changed back to her natural form. That was not a good sign. She felt even worse than she had when she’d fallen asleep. She tried to shift back into a dog’s shape, but nothing happened. She tried human form, and felt something start to happen, after all these years human form was nearly as natural to her as her firecat shape, but still she stayed unchanged. She tried to get to her feet, but a violent coughing fit hit her and she collapsed back onto the dirt floor of the shack. No, this was not good at all.

She coughed again weakly and shivered. She prayed that nobody would find her, sick as she was. She would be easy prey for any irate farmer that stumbled onto her hiding place. She couldn’t think of anything to do to prevent it, though, so prayer was the only option she had. With that happy thought to keep her company she put her head on her paws and fell into an uneasy and feverish doze.

“How long have we been here?” Aidan asked his double.

“You haven’t been counting?” replied the mirror Aidan with surprise.

“I… I was, but lately I find I’m losing time. I close my eyes for one moment, and when I open them it’s been hours.” Aidan shook his head. “It’s kind of worrying.”

“Well, I’ve been here five days, so just do the math.”

“Three days then since I last fed before that. Plus five… eight days. That’s longer than the longest I’ve ever gone without food by two days.” He glanced over at Celia who was asleep again. When his hunger had started to really bother him he’d moved across the room, explaining to the girl that it would be safer for her that way. He was now sitting next to his double. They’d done a lot of talking over the last five days. There wasn’t anything else to do. The only interruptions to their complete isolation were the regular visits of the minotaur, who had started bringing Celia meals two or three times a day. Both of them figured that Flame wouldn’t want her little temptation game to end, so she was making sure Celia stayed in good health.

The mirror Aidan was surprised at his own self-restraint. After all, five days was still a long time, but he found he wasn’t tempted as badly as he had feared. Still… there were times when it was only the knowledge that his twin had already gone three days more than he that kept him firm in his promise.

“So… how much longer do you think we’ll be in here?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re sure that your Flame Song will come for you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I hope she gets here soon.”

“Me too.”

Flame wasn’t sure how long she’d lain feverish in the little shack. Long enough for the rain to stop. Long enough for the sun to rise and set more than once. Was it two days, three, even four? She didn’t know. But at last the fever had passed. She awoke weak but clear-headed to see bright moonlight steaming into the shack. She was thirsty, though she’d lapped up the rainwater that had puddled just outside the door. She got to her feet, managing not to stagger. She followed her ears, finding a babbling brook not far off. When she’d drunk her fill she turned her attention to her hunger. She knew she needed food, and for her there was one good way to get it. But here in settled lands she wasn’t going to find wild game, she would have to resort to thievery. Her nose led the way this time as she crept silently into a farmyard. Her sensitive ears picked up human snores from the farmhouse, but her attention was elsewhere. Her nose soon led her to a chicken coop. With one dexterous paw she opened the latch as silently as possible. She was glad to see there were plenty of chickens. The farmers wouldn’t suffer too badly for the loss of a few. She didn’t even wake the other chickens as she quickly killed three and carried them out. She paused to latch the door again behind her. That’ll confuse them to no end, she thought with a touch of humor.

Some distance off in a field of corn that was not quite tall enough to completely hide her this early in the year she left a scatter of feathers and a few clean-picked bones. She returned to the shack then. If it had hidden her this long it would hid her a little longer. She knew she’d been a fool to leave the monastery before she was completely recovered. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. She would need her full strength to deal with her double, after all.

Three more days saw her feeling pretty much her old self again. She’d recovered enough to shift shape, so it was a mongrel dog that trotted down the road just after sunset with her belly full of stolen chicken. She had realized that the mirror Aidan would probably still have her husband’s sun-protection amulet, so any rescue needed to be after dark. By the time the moon rose she had come within sight of the crumbling castle.

No point in delaying any more now, she thought, and approached the castle’s fallen gates. She took her own form and crept on silent paws through deserted and ruined corridors. Room after empty room was inspected and rejected. There were no signs of life anywhere, just dust and cobwebs and crumbling stone.

Flame Song was passing through a huge hall when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. The ceiling had fallen in at one end of the hall, letting the moonlight into the room. In the dim rafters ancient banners so covered with dust and cobwebs that their designs weren’t visible hung immobile in the still air. A single lonely suit of armor was silently rusting away along the wall. A worm-eaten table that must once have been impressive but was now literally falling apart ran down the center of the room, its surface thick with dust. Flame’s own footsteps stirred up puffs of dust, but the floor wasn’t as thickly covered, as if someone occasionally came through here.

When Flame Song saw the flicker of motion, she spun around, and so her double hit her face on instead of bowling her over from the side. Sharp claws raked across her shoulders and she snarled in pain. She reared back and her own claws came out. The next few moments were a confusion of claws and flying fur in a literal catfight. They were, of course, evenly matched, but the mirror Flame Song was comparatively fresh, while her double was worn out from illness, travel, and blood loss.

The mirror Flame got a further advantage when she shouldered her twin sideways into the big table. It went to splinters, but not before knocking the breath out of Flame Song completely. Her feet went out from under her and she found herself tangled in a pile of wooden debris. Her double loomed over her, fangs bared in a victorious smile. And then something whooshed out of the darkness and thudded into the mirror Flame’s head. She collapsed limply onto the dusty floor. Her snarling feline face was replaced in her double’s field of vision by an unreadable bovine visage. Flame blinked at this unlikely savior. What was a minotaur doing here? And why had it hit the other Flame? She cautiously extracted herself from the ruins of the table. She was bruised, and blood still seeped out of the scratched across her shoulders, but nothing seemed to be broken.

“Who are you?” she asked the minotaur.

“Aldro,” was his brief response.

“Why did you do that?”

“She was not a kind mistress. This was a good opportunity.”

“Oh. But how did you know which one to hit?”

“I knew,” he said. Then he added, “You are looking for Aidan, yes?”

“Yes! For my Aidan, that is.”

“Follow me.”

Flame Song, unable to think of any other response, followed silently. Aldro led the way through deserted corridors and down a set of narrow stone stairs. He went down another corridor and stopped at a locked door. He pulled out a six-sided rod and touched it to a spot on the lock plate. The door swung open. The room inside was dim, and she couldn’t see who was inside clearly. “Aidan?” she called softly. One huddled shape in a corner of the room stretched upward and resolved itself into the familiar form of a young-looking, raven-haired aerian.

He came a few steps closer, moving into the light that filtered in from the hallway. He looked at her suspiciously and she realized he must think she was her double.

“It’s all right, I’m not the Flame from here. I’ve come to rescue you.”

He laughed softly, with a touch of bitterness in it. “How can I be sure you’re not just playing a trick on me?”

“Ask me something. Surely there are things about me that my double wouldn’t know.”

He smiled then and said, “I would, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t know them either. You see I’m not your Aidan, I’m the other one.”

She blinked in surprise, unable to think of any response. Why would the mirror Aidan be locked up here? “Where’s my husband then?”

The mirror Aidan gestured to a second huddled form. Flame Song started forward, but he raised one hand and said, “Stop. Don’t go near him.”

She showed her teeth in a feline snarl of suspicion and said, “Why not?”

“Because it’s not safe.” He closed his eyes for a moment and a shudder went though him. The bloodsmell from Flame Song’s wounded shoulder was dangerously strong. “I’m having trouble restraining the urge to jump on you and drain you dry, and he’s been here a lot longer than I have. He might not harm you, I’ve come to admire his self-control very much, but even he has limits.”

“Well, wake him up or whatever. I’m getting him out of here right now.”

The mirror Aidan nodded. He walked over to where his twin was curled up on his side. He had been spending more and more time in a kind of coma. They had decided it was natural; a method of conserving energy when no food was available, but it was still alarming. When a person doesn’t breathe or have a heartbeat it’s hard to be sure if they are alive. The mirror Aidan reached down and shook his twin’s shoulder. “Aidan, wake up. She came.” But the unconscious aerian didn’t stir.

“What’s wrong?” asked Flame Song from the doorway.

“He’s in some kind of coma, like he’s hibernating. I can’t wake him.”

“Then can you carry him? We need to get out of here!”

“I still don’t trust you. My Flame is a very good actress. I need to wake him to make sure you’re really you. But don’t worry, I have an idea.”

If his twin was hibernating because he had no food, then there was one sure way to wake him up. Aidan brought his wrist to his mouth and tore his sharp fangs across it. Blood welled out sluggishly, teasing sharply at the mirror Aidan’s own huger. He ignored it and held his wrist over his twin’s mouth, letting a few drops fall on his lips. His twin licked them off. Then he opened his eyes. For a moment they were unfocused, with no sign of intelligence in them. Gradually Aidan blinked again and began to come all the way awake. His double put his wrist to his own mouth and sucked off the last few drops of blood, not wanting to waste any. Blood was blood, after all, even if it was his own.

“What…?” asked Aidan weakly.

“Your wife is here, but I need to be sure it’s her. What can you ask her that her double wouldn’t know?”

“Children’s names…” said Aidan.

“Littlespark, Firedart, and Phoenixflare, answered Flame immediately.

The mirror Aidan shook his head. “My Flame could have overheard us talking abut them. I can’t be sure.”

“One more…” said Aidan, his voice a weak whisper. “Mine, not hers. Haven’t mentioned…”

The mirror Aidan looked from his twin to Flame questioningly.

“Damien,” said Flame softly, painful memory casting a brief shadow across her eyes. “He means Damien.”

“Yes, it’s her,’ said Aidan, and his eyes closed again.

His double held in his sudden questions, though he was quite curious. Did that “mine, not hers” remark mean what he thought it did? Dismissing the thought for the moment, he picked up his twin, staggering slightly. The weight shouldn’t have been heavy, considering his vampiric strength, but though he hadn’t been without sustenance as long as his twin, it had still been a long time. The last day he’d begun to suspect he was blacking out for short periods as well. In his eagerness to get out of the cell however, he hadn’t forgotten the third prisoner.

“Celia,” he said. “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” came her soft-voiced response. She got to her feet. Flame Song started. She hadn’t even noticed the girl.

“Who…?” She didn’t finish the question, but she didn’t need to.

“My name’s Celia. The other you put me in here.”

Flame nodded. “I can guess the reason why.” She looked at the mirror Aidan with a touch more respect in her eyes. “Things have changed since the last time I saw you, haven’t they?”

He just nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”

The little group left the castle, the laconic Aldro leading the way with Aidan and his double following and Flame and Celia bringing up the rear. It didn’t take them long to get out of the castle and into the night.

“Where to now?” asked Flame, not sure who to direct the question to.

“Somewhere where your husband and I can get some food,” said Aidan. “He’s in bad shape, and I’m not doing so well myself. But I don’t know where. My usual feeding habits are no longer an option for me these days.”

“There’s a farm not half a mile from here,” said Celia.

“What good will that do?” asked Aidan.

“Well, farms usually have cows and horses, don’t they? Won’t cow blood do almost as well as human?”

“Celia, I could kiss you! I didn’t even think of that.”

“Neither did I,” said Flame, “and I should have. Guess I’m just too tired to think straight.”

The journey to the nearest farm wasn’t a long one but to the mirror Aidan it felt like forever. Carrying his double and feeling weaker than he’d ever felt he kept staggering. Flame offered to help him, but he only told her to stay back. He was hyperaware of the heartbeats and blood scent of the three breathing people that accompanied him. Only his newfound resolve to turn over a new leaf kept him going.

He needed to occupy his mind, distract it from the hunger. He thought of a rather important question all of the sudden. “Flame Song, did you have to kill my wife?”

“No. She was still alive when I left her, though no doubt she’ll have one huge headache when she wakes up.”

“What happened?”

“Aldro hit her on the head, actually. She was about ready to tear me to shreds, but he thumped her before she could.”

“Ah. You know you probably should have killed her while you had the chance.”

“I know. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not in cold blood like that. And I was more concerned about my husband anyhow. Are you sorry that she’s alive?”

“Somewhat mixed, I’d say. Things might be easier without her, but… I don’t know. I can’t think of one reason why I’d want her to live, but I do anyhow.”

“Maybe she can change. If you can change as much as you have in just a week or so, why not?”

“Somehow I can’t see her ever changing, but I guess you’re right. If I can change, who knows what else is possible?” He fell silent again, walking immersed in his own thoughts.

At last they reached a silent farm. Aidan walked openly into the farmyard and approached the barn. “Shouldn’t we be sneaking?” asked Flame. “What if the farmer wakes up and comes out after us?”

Aidan gave a little laugh. “We’re less than a mile from my castle. I may have turned over a new leaf this past week, but I doubt the people here have heard. They won’t set foot outside after dark for anything less than a matter of life or death.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t waste any more time on conversation, but pushed open the barn door and went inside. It was dark inside, but her could hear and smell several animals, probably horses, moving around. His eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom and he picked out a big draft horse standing in a stall along one wall of the barn. He slipped open the stall door and put his twin down on the straw inside. His double came partly awake, no doubt aware of the rush of blood beneath the horse’s skin. The mirror Aidan took hold of the horse’s bridle and stoked its cheek to keep it calm. His twin had gotten to his knees and grabbed onto the horse’s leg. The animal gave a start at the unexpected contact, then calmed under the mirror Aidan’s soothing touch. It didn’t even twitch when the other vampire’s fangs cut through the skin over the big vein on its leg.

The mirror Aidan left his twin feeding. The horse wouldn’t be going anywhere now, and he needed to get his own nourishment. A second stall next to the first housed a somewhat smaller animal. Aidan stroked it to calm it, wishing he had some sugar or a carrot to make friends with. Then he knelt next to it, his fingers tracing the veins that ran just under the skin. He chose his spot and bit through the tough skin to reach the rushing blood beneath. The sensation as it flowed into his mouth was wonderful. Hot life ran into him, filling him up and flooding him with energy. He drank more deeply than he ever had, reveling in the feast after the famine. At last he was full and he pulled back. A little trickle of blood oozed down the horse’s skin, but otherwise it seemed fine. It was a large animal; the amount of blood he’d taken wouldn’t be enough to cause it any difficulty.

He emerged from the stall, latching the door again behind him. He found his double just closing the other door. They looked at each other for a long moment, then his twin said, “Thanks.”

The mirror Aidan shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”

They left the barn together. Flame Song was grooming the blood out of her fur; cleaning out the shallow wounds her double had left with her rough tongue. She looked from one aerian to the other, then somehow picked out the right one and went to her husband’s side. She shimmered into human form and hugged him. “Are you all right?”

“I am now. Thanks for bailing me out again.”

She shrugged. “What else could I do?” Then she looked at the other Aidan. “Thank you,” she said simply.

He shook his head. “Don’t thank me. This doesn’t even begin to make up for what I’ve done. After what I did to you, you don’t owe me any thanks.” Then he added, curious, “How did you know which one of us was the right one?”

Flame Song grinned. “My Aidan would be the one without his shirt on. He has a positive talent for losing them somehow. And,” she added, “maybe I don’t owe you any thanks, but thank you anyway. Now, what next? I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m ready to head back to the monastery and have Saint Drago send us home.”

“I’ll second that motion,” said Aidan.

Celia chimed in saying, “I think I should go too. I don’t really have anywhere else to go. It wouldn’t be safe for me to go back to my family. Do you think Saint Drago would take me?”

Flame nodded and smiled. “Yes, I think so. He’s a good man.”

“I will go too,” said Aldro, startling everyone. The minotaur had been so silent that everybody had forgotten he was there.

“What about you?” asked Flame, directing her question to her husband’s twin.

“I… I have some thinking to do, and some decisions to make. Maybe I will go to Saint Drago’s, but not just yet.”

“Where will you go then?”

“There’s plenty of places to hole up around here. Speaking of which, I should return this. You don’t know all the spots where you can get out of the sun, so you’re going to need it.” He took the sun-protection amulet off of his neck and handed it to his double with more than a touch of regret. He would miss the sun. “I’m afraid I can’t return your daggers. I… left them behind at the monastery.”

Aidan put the medallion’s chain around his neck. The blood red stone looked black in the moonlight as it rested on his bare chest. “I have others back home,” he said with a shrug.

“If you head west before turning north you can avoid most of the farmlands,” said the mirror Aidan. “You probably don’t want to try and explain to some terrified farmer that you’re not the people you look like.”

“Thanks,” said Aidan.

“No, I’m the one who needs to thank you. I think there may be hope for me after all, and if it hadn’t been for you two I’d never have known what I was missing.” With a last wave he turned and spread his wings. He launched himself into the clear night air and flew off without looking back.

Following his advice the little group headed west, making their way through the dense forest that surrounded the more settled lands. They traveled slowly. Flame Song was still weak, and Celia wasn’t in good shape for traveling either. Silent Aldro didn’t complain of fatigue and Aidan was almost completely recovered from his ordeal, his system having made good use of the fresh blood he’d drunk, but there was little reason to hurry. They made camp while it was still dark, deciding to travel by day for the sake of Aldro and Celia, neither of whom had good night vision. They took turns standing sentry, aware that the mirror Flame Song was still out there somewhere and might well be bent on revenge, but the night passed without incident.

Some distance off the mirror Aidan was sitting in a quiet forest clearing and thinking. He had a great many questions in his mind, but all his thoughts circled back to one single idea. He didn’t really know what love was like. He felt little love for his wife, and he didn’t think she loved him either. Theirs had been a mutual using, each of them selfishly satisfying his or her needs with no thought of the other’s feelings. And… he found his feelings toward this other version of his wife differed greatly from anything he’d ever felt. Was this love? He’d seen real love, the love that his twin shared with his wife, and he found he wanted that. And yet… where could he find that kind of love? Who was there that could love such a creature as he was? He felt as though he was engulfed in hopeless darkness. What hope did he have? And yet, and yet… an idea kept coming to him. A way to know, however briefly, what real love was like. He shook it off time and time again. It was wrong. To so abuse the kindness he’d been shown… but the thought wouldn’t go away. And he wanted so desperately to know, even if it was only once, what love felt like.

The little group didn’t get far the next day. Between their slow speed and the need to circle around settled areas they were still a long way from their goal. But since there was no sign of pursuit, they weren’t overly concerned. Flame Song was enjoying the easy pace. She shifted back to human form so she could more easily converse with Aidan, and they strolled along at a leisurely pace, hand in hand. At last there was no hurry, no rush, and she could recuperate without any worries. By the time they set up camp on the second night she was feeling almost like her old self again.

Aidan volunteered for the first watch, so she curled up on the deep grass under the trees and fell asleep, too tired to bother shapeshifting. Aidan leaned his back against a tree and looked out into the night. All was still and quiet. There was no sound but the normal, familiar noises of the forest. He never heard the soft whoosh of wings overhead as his double flew over the camp. And he certainly didn’t hear the perfectly inaudible sound of a sleep spell settling softly over him. He just closed his eyes and slumped to the ground. Celia and Aldro too slipped even deeper into sleep. Nothing would wake them. Only Flame Song was left unenchanted. The mirror Aidan landed softly near her. His hands wove a pattern and he whispered a few soft words. The spell that settled over the sleeping woman was only a gentle thought, a suggestion that whatever situation she found was not unusual, coupled with a resistance to remembering the existence of a second Aidan. She would think only of her husband. He felt a twinge of guilt as the spell settled into place. And yet he could do nothing else.

For a long time he simply sat next to her and watched her breathing. She was so beautiful. Her double was beautiful too, but she had none of the innocence and purity that added immeasurably to this woman’s attractiveness. Again Aidan had second thoughts. Perhaps he should leave. It was not too late after all… and then Flame Song stirred and opened her eyes.

“Aidan?” she said softly, questioningly.

He was mute. He could suddenly think of nothing to say, but what he felt must have shown in his eyes, for Flame Song sat up and put her arms around him wordlessly. He looked into her eyes, gone dark in the moonlight, and softly touched her cheek. She looked back at him with love, and though he knew it was false, that her love wasn’t for him, still he drank it in more eagerly than blood.

There were no words between them, only tender touches and softly passionate kisses. Aidan surrendered his heart to her fully, and gave his body to her touch. As they came together he found in himself a gentleness that he had never suspected. And even when, at just the right moment, his lips found her neck and his teeth broke through the soft skin, even that was as gentle as he could make it.

He drank the red, rushing life of her slowly, taking one electrifying drop at a time. And as he did their hearts came together even as their bodies met and he was awash in the gentle warmth of her love. His own heart felt like it might burst from the joy, the wonder, even the awe he felt. He hadn’t known such depth of love was possible. In that moment the sweetness of it and the bitterness of his past and the sadness that this would never be again somehow all balanced out into a soft peace.

He came back to himself after a long time spent floating in the mutual warmth that flowed between them. He softly kissed away the tiny trickle of blood from her neck. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even, but he knew she was still awake.

He extracted himself from her embrace and began to get dressed again. He needed to go before the spell he’d cast on her broke. She too sat up and got her shirt and trousers back on. He rose to go, but made the mistake of looking back. She stood there in the moonlight, looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read. He couldn’t do what he had just done to her and then go without a word. He had to tell her. He turned back.

“Flame Song, I… I’m not…”

“I know,” she said before he could find the words to say what he needed to say.

“You … you know?”

She smiled, a smile both sad and warm. “Yes. The heart doesn’t lie. The blood-bond is still there, and though even in the heart you are much like my Aidan, you are not him.”

He turned away from her, unable to bear the kindness of her eyes after what he’d done. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For my husband’s sake,” she replied, “so am I, and for the wrong of it, because it was wrong. But for your sake I’m not. What did she do to you, my other self, that left you so hurt?”

Unexpectedly tears gathered in his eyes. All at once he found himself forced to face a truth he had never wanted to see. The truth that, for all the long, dark years he had been with his wife, for all he abuse he’d taken and all that he’d given in return, he had still somewhere inside hoped for real love from her. For all the power games he’d played, for all the evil he’d done, the real reason he’d stayed with her was that faint hope that someday she might say she loved him. And a deeper truth lay beneath that, for despite the hatred he had for her, he loved her too. And that was why she could hurt him. That was why each betrayal stabbed as deeply as the first. He’d ignored the pain, putting it from his mind, telling himself he was just using her the way she was using him, but it had all been a lie.

He found that Flame had put her arms around him and he was crying on her shoulder. He sobbed for a long time, letting out a decade’s worth of hurt and anguish in a flood of tears. At last he wiped his eyes and looked up at her. She smiled. “I wish there was more I could do for you.”

“How can you say that? After all you’ve done already. After all I’ve done to you…”

“My Aidan will always be first in my heart. I love him more than anything. But, well… I love you too.”

Aidan stared at her, disbelieving. “You… you do?”

In answer she hugged him close and said softly, “Yes. The heart doesn’t lie, remember?” And he knew it was true. The blood-bond still lingered between them and he could feel the warmth in her heart and she held him close.

He put his own arms around her. He found he was crying again. He’d never shed so many tears, but these weren’t tears of sorrow, they were tears of joy. How long they stood there he didn’t know but eventually the moment came to an end. Aidan hesitated. He couldn’t stay, but he didn’t want to leave. “I should go,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. They still stood close together, both reluctant to break off the moment, but finally Aidan stepped back.

“Goodbye,” he said, walking slowly backward, his eyes still fixed on her face.

“Goodbye,” she replied, and lifted her hand and waved. He turned and launched himself into the sky. It was only a moment before he vanished utterly into the darkness, but Flame Song stood and stared after him for a long time, until a soft sound behind her drew her back from her thoughts. It would be an understatement to say her feelings were mixed when she turned around and found her husband standing there.

“How long have you been awake?” asked Flame Song softly.

“Not long… but long enough.”

“Aidan, I…” she looked for a way to explain what had happened.

He held up one hand and she fell silent. He closed his eyes and was obviously thinking hard. “Flame…” he sighed. “You don’t need to explain, and you don’t need to apologize. After all the pain I’ve caused you in the past, you don’t owe me any apologies.” Flame heard the echo of the other Aidan’s words; “After what I did to you, you don’t owe me any thanks.”

“Aidan… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He came forward and he put his arms around her, and wrapped his wings around her too, so that they were both encircled in soft white feathers. “I know,” he said simply. “I know.”

“Thank you for everything,” said Drago as they stood again in front of the portal.

“You’re welcome,” responded Aidan as they stepped through, “but I think this once is enough.” And then the portal closed, leaving Flame and Aidan standing in their own living room. Flame Song dropped onto the couch in sudden exhaustion. Aidan plopped on a cushion by her feet and leaned his head on her knee.

“It’s over,” he said.

“Thank heaven,” responded Flame. “I can hardly believe it’s only been a few weeks. It feels like years since we left.”

“So much had happened,” said Aidan. “And though I might do it over if I had the choice to make again, there’s a few things I could do without.”

“Like…?” asked Flame.

He sighed. “Like, well… when your opposite caught me, she…” he hesitated, wanting to tell her and yet not wanting to. “I… I don’t know how to say this....”

“Knowing what I know about her I can guess. Your double said she would use you like a new toy, and try to break you like one too. But you didn’t break did you?”

“No. She managed to bend me a bit though. I…” he hesitated again. He felt she deserved to know exactly what had happened, but he somehow couldn’t find the words.

She stroked his hair gently, reassuringly, and said softly, “It’s all right. Whatever it is, it’s all right.”

Gradually the story came out. How she had seduced him, used his hunger against him. When he finished he said, “There’s been a lot of wrong done and a lot of forgiveness asked lately, but I need to ask again, can you ever forgive me?”

She continued to stroke his hair as she answered, “If you can forgive me.”

“Of course,” he said softly. Then he told her the rest of the story, about his resolve and how he had tested it in part while locked up with Celia and his twin. He told her too about the conversations they’d had, and how he and his twin and come to be friends of a sort. She in turn told her story.

“So that’s what he meant,” said Aidan when she reached the point where his double had attacked her and Drago. “You know I never did get my daggers back.”

She smiled and continued, telling about the fire and how she’d become sick and been delayed on her way to rescue him, and she told him the whole story of what had passed between her and the other Aidan, though it was hard going and she stopped often. At last she concluded, “I found that somehow I had come to love him.” She looked down at her husband whose hair she was still stroking. “Not the same way I love you, not nearly, but I do still love him. Maybe I’ve been human too long, that I can love twice. I’ve told you before that a firecat can give her heart but once. And yet I do love you both.”

Aidan sighed and lifted his head. “I don’t know. It still hurts a little bit, thinking of you with him… but I can’t love you any less because of it.”

“I am sorry. And you are first in my heart, now and always, no matter what.”

“Then nothing else matters,” he said.

There was a long comfortable silence. Both of them just sat there enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. They had reaffirmed their love, and though both might be scarred, both would be able to find healing in each other.

“This whole thing sounds like some wild bard’s tale,” said Flame after a while, “but I can’t deicide if it’s a comedy, a tragedy, or a romance.”

“If it’s a romance, it’s the strangest one I ever heard of. My vote would be for comedy. With all of us chasing each other back and forth, mistaking each other every which way, and a dozen different tricks and surprises. And besides, it ended with all of us still alive. In a proper tragedy everyone is dead at the end.”

Flame Song laughed. “True.”

Aidan sighed again and said, “It really does feel like it’s been forever. I feel like I’m a different person now than the person who was sitting here when that portal interrupted us.”

Flame Song nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean.”

Aidan turned so that he was kneeling in front of her, facing her, and picked up her hand. He kissed it gently, first on the back and then on the palm, and said, “Perhaps we could finish what we were doing when we were so rudely interrupted?”

Flame had closed her eyes at his touch. He could hear her heart begin to beat faster and she answered, “Yes. Yes I think we could.” And when Aidan’s slow and gentle kisses worked their way up her arm, reached the place where the blood rushed close under the soft skin of her neck, and he found the two little marks there that he had not made he hesitated only a moment before he kissed her there too.

It was almost a full year later when they found a letter sitting on the couch, sealed with an elaborate letter D. Aidan shifted the new baby, just two months old, to the crook of one arm so he could pick it up. It was from Saint Drago.

My dear friends,
I write to tell you some news I thought you might like to know. Aidan, Celia, and Aldro have all joined my order and are each, in their own way, proving invaluable. Aidan has done more than I can say for us, though at first I was suspicious of his change of heart. But when he willingly consented to be tested by truth spell I quickly became convinced.. It is amazing how much he has changed. Flame Song, I am sad to say, has not, but without his help she has done much less harm. Some nine months after you left she had a child, a little girl. Aidan tells me he is certain it isn’t his, but as the girl is his spitting image I can perhaps guess at her parentage. Aidan and Celia mounted an expedition to kidnap the child, and while I ordinarily would not approve of taking an infant from its mother, in this case I felt it was the right thing to do. No child should have to grow up in the care of such evil. So the girl is here. Her mother named her Shadowfire, but Aidan has taken to calling her Serapha, which he tells me means “angel.”

Celia has been mothering her. She has also been giving Aidan a great many significant looks, which he seems to be oblivious to. Eventually, however, he is bound to notice, and I think I may be performing a wedding before long. If you want to make the trip between worlds again you will certainly be invited. I hope all is well with you. May all the gods bless you.

Sincerely,
Saint Drago

“Well,” said Aidan, “much as I’d like to see that wedding, I have no desire to go back there. I hope he’s happy with her though.”

“Do you think he will be?”

He shrugged. “I could never be happy with anyone but you, but in his case who knows?”

“It’s an odd coincidence that both girls have the same name, isn’t it? I wonder what the other girl will be like when she grows up?” asked Flame.

“Who knows? Maybe someday they’ll meet and find out. But we still have to wait and see how our own little Shadowfire grows up first.” He gently bounced the little dark-haired aerian girl. She giggled happily and grinned toothlessly.

“Does it bother you, not being sure if she’s yours?” asked Flame Song. She’d been wondering that since they’d first discovered she was pregnant again, but somehow she’d never found the right time to ask.

“Not really. And there’s no way for us to tell anyhow, so why worry about it?” The peace he’d found a year ago in that little cell was still with him. It had been shaken, perhaps, by the events that followed so soon after, but had held and he found that he could take whatever life threw at him with surprising calm.

“Hey Daddy!” Littlespark came running into the room, interrupting their conversation. “Look, I did a new picture of us!” She brandished a sheet of paper. Aidan handed Shadowfire to his wife and took the picture from his oldest daughter. Drawn in a childish but increasingly accurate hand was a picture of all six of them. There he was with his arm around Flame Song’s furry firecat shoulders. Littlespark had included herself in her half-and-half birth form, and Firedart was drawn the same way. Standing in front was Phoenixflare, his orange wings folded tightly against his sides. And lastly there was little Shadowfire, cradled in Aidan’s other arm.

Aidan looked at it for a long time. Right there was everything in the whole world that mattered. His heart was suddenly full. He felt as though he’d come through the fire last year and now he appreciated what he had more than ever, because he’d come so close to losing it all.

“Do you like it Daddy?” asked Spark.

“Yes,” he replied, trying to keep his voice from choking up. “I like it very much.”

The end of chapter 8

Chapter 9