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It lit on the first try.

Hurry up!

Kara held the burning match out at arm’s length, not even shielding it with her other hand. Somehow she knew it wouldn’t go out, because there’s no way it should’ve lit in the first place. The wind was too fierce, but it was also otherworldly. It didn’t belong to the basement, wasn’t relative to the cellar.

And therefore it couldn’t touch the flame…

She lit the candle. It burned brightly, illuminating the table. The bell, the book — those things were still there. The books pages hadn’t even moved; just like the candle’s flame, they remained untouched by the wind.

“Are you okay?” she shouted back at her companions. Her blood ran cold when she didn’t get an answer. “Logan! Jeremy!”

Kara turned, taking her attention away from the table. The guys were there, but they were also not there. They were shouting something, but she couldn’t hear them. Their mouths moved, but no sound came out.

She blinked hard, to clear her vision. Everything was moving in slow motion.

What the—

Suddenly the room was filled with even more light, and this time from other sources. Kara saw people. Wispy and ethereal, they floated backwards through the mirror, back to the source of the light itself; the scrying crystal. One by one they were sucked into it, disappearing into the pulsating surface of its throbbing, mystical glow.

The spirits…

Some went willingly, flinging themselves into the light. Others were dragged, screaming silently as they were yanked inexorably backwards. There was no resisting it. No stopping the pull.

And then Kara felt the pull too.

Oh God…

The thought terrified her. The idea of being pulled through the mirror, of becoming one with whatever the crystal now represented. Or even worse, of staying here. Of transitioning from this world into a permanent resident of the Averoigne…

Her eyes scanned the room frantically. Kara began grasping. Groping for something — anything at all — to hold onto. But there was nothing. Nothing and no one. A chill went down her spine.

“Kara!”

The voice came from all directions. Even so, it sounded very small and very far away.

“KARA!”

She leaned away from the mirror, but the wind was too much. I knocked her back a step. Then another. If she tripped, she knew she was gone.

Do something!

The spirits were still flying by, but with much less frequency. She saw three… then two more… then none at all. The wind had seized her hair now. It flowed out behind her, blowing toward the mirror as she fought against it.

Kara looked up one more time, desperate for salvation, and there it was. The dark spirit. Black as night, it looked wholly different from all the rest. This one was scabbed over, almost gnarled in its appearance. And rotten. Somehow she knew that, even without knowing it.

Walcott…

It was another piece of unspoken knowledge, but one she was no less certain of. Kara watched as the thing that had once been Victor Walcott screamed and twisted,

trying desperately to escape its fate. Ultimately it was sucked through with all the rest, howling and shrieking its way into the void beyond the mirror. It disappeared with a blinding flash, and Kara felt a blast of cold wash over her from behind.

Her legs were shaking. Her knees, almost buckled. There was no way to hang on. Nothing to hold onto…

Jeremy… Logan…

They were thoughts only. They weren’t there. No one was there to save her, and no one would.

The candle flickered, and Kara screamed. Nothing came out. That part terrified her more than anything.