B ULLET-LIKE, DODGE raced headlong through the kaleidoscopic glitter of the Crystal Continuum. “Yeah-ha! Wooooo!”
Wonderlanders, struggling to get out of his way, were sucked up through crystal byways and reflected out of looking glasses into seedy restaurants or the homes of strangers-looking glasses out of which they had never meant to be reflected, on their way to other destinations.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Dodge shouted. “Come on!”
Four Glass Eyes were chasing him. They looked like ordinary Wonderlanders except for the implants of reflective colorless crystal in their eye sockets. An artificial race with enhanced sight, strength, and speed, Glass Eyes were built for hand-to-hand combat, and they patrolled the Crystal Continuum with orders to annihilate anyone suspected of being an Alyssian. Their patrols had effectively limited rebel mobility, all but choked off a major channel for rebel communications. Handheld looking glass communicators had never been viable for anything but short, cryptic intelligence reports, as dispatches could be intercepted
by anyone at any time. The most effective means of sending and retrieving sensitive Alyssian intelligence had been to use portal runners to traverse the Crystal Continuum. But that was before the Glass Eyes. Now being a portal runner meant dying sooner rather than later. Portal runs were one step removed from suicide missions. Dodge Anders had made more portal runs than any Alyssian and he always volunteered to deliver the most important messages, warnings, and intel updates. The occasion for this run: Redd’s troops had been active and General Doppelganger suspected an impending attack on an Alyssian outpost situated in the Snark Mountain foothills. The outpost had to be warned.
Shoooooooomph!
Dodge flew through the Continuum, the Glass Eyes gaining on him. These contests of navigational skill and strength were the only times he felt anything even approaching happiness.
It didn’t matter that he might be killed. He was being useful and it made him feel that much closer to exacting his revenge.
In front of him, the Continuum splintered in many directions. He threw his body weight to the left and made a sharp turn at the last minute. He looked behind him: One of the Glass Eyes hadn’t made the turn. Three more to go. And he had to lose them quick, before others joined the chase.
Spinning to avoid the Glass Eyes’ gunfire, Dodge removed his sword from its scabbard and held it firmly with both hands. With a great effort of will, he came to a sudden stop. The Glass Eyes weren’t expecting it, came rushing upon him, and the frontrunner impaled himself on Dodge’s sword. Before the two remaining Glass Eyes could regain their equilibrium, Dodge relaxed, surrendered his body to the pull of the nearest looking glass, and was sucked up out of the Continuum, reflected out of a glass in the lobby
of an apartment building. In less time than it took a galloping spirit-dane to make a single stride, he pressed himself flat against the wall next to the looking glass. The Glass Eyes flew out of it and past him. He smashed the glass with the handle of his sword. As fragments of mirror scattered and fell, Dodge squeezed his entire body back into the Continuum through a reflective sliver no larger than a jabberwock’s toe-a feat the Glass Eyes hadn’t mastered, for when they tried, they couldn’t get their entire bodies into the Continuum, only those parts that had been reflected in the fragment. Zooming through the looking glass’ fast-disappearing crystalline byway, the void racing up behind him, Dodge looked back a final time and saw one Glass Eye with half a face, a shoulder, and little else, the other with a head and torso but no arms. The Glass Eyes had no strength and were swallowed by the void. He too would have become part of the nothingness if he hadn’t hooked up with the Continuum’s main artery when he did.
Dodge continued on his way, heading for a certain looking glass not far from Snark Mountain. He emerged from the Continuum and made the rest of the journey on foot. But the joy he’d felt during the chase quickly vanished. He had reverted to his usual tightly contained self by the time he arrived to warn the leader of the Alyssian outpost of a possible attack from Redd.
Mission completed. What now? He could head back to the Everlasting Forest, but all he’d probably find there would be General Doppelganger and the others sitting around talking strategy. Anything was better than just sitting around.
So he risked an extra portal run, emerged near the Whispering Woods, and passed through them to the Pool of Tears. He came here every once in a while, stood on the cliff overlooking the pool, thinking about the life that had happened to him. Like his father, he had once believed in the principles of White Imagination-love, justice, and duty to others. But he knew better now: An adherence to higher principles got one nowhere in this world. It was not, as his father had preached, its own reward. What sort of reward allowed others to conquer and murder and do away with all you held dear?
He had been reckless to come to the pool. Shouldn’t have taken the unnecessary risk. He had to stay alive. His vengeance required it.