The howling multiplied, now three, four voices baying in a hellish chorus, reverberating through the forest. They were closing in.
The Coinbearer cradled Elise firmly. "Hold on to me," he instructed.
She looped her weak arms around his neck. In response, the cloak wrapped itself around both of them, spreading out like a billowing mantle ready to whisk them away. The Coinbearer took off at a swift stride through the trees.
Elise's vision jolted with each of his steps as he half-ran down the slope away from the camp site. She felt a rush of wind as the cloak extended and caught an updraft, almost like a sail. They were moving faster than any human could sprint, his supernatural speed enhanced by the cloak's magic.
Branches and trunks became streaks in her peripheral vision. The night air was icy on her face. Behind them, the hunting howls grew confused and more distant; clearly, their sudden flight had thrown off the pursuing hounds.
"Don't stop," the cloak urged. "I smell brimstone on the wind. They've brought riders."
The Coinbearer bounded over a fallen log, never breaking stride. Elise clung to him, teeth gritted against the pain the rough motion jarred through her middle. She pressed her face into his shoulder, letting the wind whip past her ears as he ran faster than a wild stag.
Eventually, the hellish howls faded into the distance. Only then did the Coinbearer begin to slow, the cloak's tight wrap around them easing as thick silver fog rose around their feet.
After a time, perhaps minutes, perhaps hours, Elise felt the Coinbearer's pace fall to a quick walk. The cloak loosened slightly, its protective cocoon relaxing. Peeking up, she realized they were now moving through a dense mist; silver fog curled around them, obscuring the trees.
"We're close," the Coinbearer said, voice hushed.
"Too close," the cloak muttered. "I still think this is a terrible idea."
Elise, dizzy and weak, didn't understand. "Close… to what?" she managed.
The Coinbearer's stride slowed to a cautious walk. Shapes loomed in the mist ahead jagged rocks or perhaps ruins. The night was strangely bright here, the fog illuminated by an unnatural, flickering radiance.
"To answers," he replied quietly. "To the Witches of the Mirror Flame."
As he spoke, three shadowy figures appeared in the haze before them, backlit by an eerie orange glow. The mists parted like a curtain, revealing a broad clearing encircled by ancient standing stones. At the circle's center blazed a tall wall of molten-gold flame fire that shone like a mirror, reflecting the clearing in warped hues.
Before this mirror-flame stood the three figures, women, by their outlines. Each wore a hooded cloak, one deep crimson and standing tall and stern, one ashen gray and bent with age, and one midnight blue with a curious tilt to her stance. The witches did not step forward, as if awaiting the newcomers to approach.
The Coinbearer gently lowered Elise to her feet, keeping a supporting arm around her waist. She swayed, knees weak, but managed to stand. The cloak loosened from around them and settled into its usual place at the Coinbearer's back, its edges twitching with visible unease.
"Elise, stay behind me," the Coinbearer murmured. She nodded, clutching his sleeve for balance. Despite her fog of pain and exhaustion, Elise's eyes widened at the sight of the mirror-like flame and the trio of mysterious women. She realized they could only be the Witches of the Mirror Flame that the Coinbearer had mentioned.
The witch in crimson finally moved, gliding forward a few paces. Though her face was shadowed by her hood, Elise glimpsed sharp, refined features, high cheekbones and lips set in a thin line. When she spoke, her voice was clear and resonant, carrying across the clearing. "Bound one, you trespass on our sanctum uninvited." Her eyes flickered to Elise, and though they were hard to discern, Elise felt a prickling sensation as if seen straight through.
The hunched witch in gray cackled softly. "Oh, but he is invited, sister. Fate itself dragged him here by the nose, methinks," she wheezed.
The third witch in midnight blue said nothing yet, only observing with an uncanny stillness. Elise felt that the blue-cloaked witch's gaze lingered on her specifically, the intensity almost physical.
The Coinbearer inclined his head in a gesture of respect though whether genuine or cautious, Elise could not tell. "Respected sisters of the Mirror Flame," he said solemnly, "I apologize for entering your domain without summons. Time is short and our need is great."
At that, the three witches exchanged glances. The crimson witch crossed her arms. "Need, he says. The Coinbearer, servant of Hell, seeks our aid?" Her tone was challenging, skeptical.
The cloak bristled at her phrasing but held its tongue this time.
"I come not as an agent of Hell at this moment," the Coinbearer said. "I come as a… seeker of truth. Something has happened, something impossible and I believe you alone may understand it."
The gray witch's eyes gleamed under her hood. "He speaks of the coin," she rasped to her sisters. "I felt it, too... The trembling in the Loom last night."
The crimson witch's stern demeanor faltered just slightly. "We are aware," she admitted. "We felt the Loom's tremor when your coin failed to declare."
She gestured sharply toward Elise. "What we do not know is why you have brought her here."
Elise felt a flush under that accusatory tone. The Coinbearer drew himself up. "This woman," he said carefully, "was the one whom the coin could not judge. She lies at the heart of the anomaly. Devils pursue us both because of it. I seek your insight to understand what she is and how this came to be."
The blue witch drifted closer, her steps soundless. Elise could see her face now: it was youthful and eerily beautiful, with wide eyes that reflected the mirror-flame. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips. "You came as a coin itself... Not who she is?" she corrected gently. "You ask what she is. Already you sense the truth, Collector."
Elise's heart thumped unevenly. What she is? She looked to the Coinbearer, but his attention was fixed on the witches.
"Please," Elise said, finding her voice despite the intimidation she felt. "I… I don't understand any of this. I just know I should be dead and I'm not. If you know something, if you can help me…" She trailed off, swaying. The Coinbearer steadied her.
The gray witch hobbled forward a step, leaning on an invisible cane. "Poor chick," she crooned, half-mocking, half-sympathetic. "Bled almost dry and dragged into forces far above her ken."
"Peace, sister," the crimson witch said curtly, shooting the gray witch a silencing glare.
To the Coinbearer, the crimson witch said, "Set the girl by the flame. We shall see what the Mirror shows us of her thread."
The Coinbearer tensed slightly. He hesitated, clearly protective. The cloak whispered, "Careful… can't be sure what they intend."
The witches noticed. The blue-robed one gave an elegant shrug. "If we meant you harm, Coinbearer, we could have set our wards to turn you to ash the moment you crossed into our wood." Her tone was polite, factual.
The crimson witch nodded. "We have little love for Hell's servants, it's true. But we owe even less to Hell's masters. We sense this concerns the balance of Fate itself, something we will not allow Hell to corrupt further by brute force. So yes, we will examine the girl. You may stay at her side."
After a beat, the Coinbearer inclined his head. "Understood."
He helped Elise forward, step by slow step. Elise's legs trembled, but she gritted her teeth and shuffled with his support toward the circle of stones. The heat from the Mirror Flame was strangely gentle, warm like sunlight rather than scorching. Up close, she saw her reflection waver in it, and the Coinbearer's silhouette behind her. The flame gave off a soft murmuring sound, like distant voices singing.
The witches gathered on the opposite side of the flame, forming a triangle around it, with Elise and the Coinbearer completing the circle.
"Be calm, child," said the gray witch with a crooked smile. She began to chant under her breath, and the mirror-fire flared brighter, the reflections within becoming sharper.
Elise felt the crimson witch's gaze on her. "She's special," the crimson witch said softly, awe in her voice. "Hidden since birth, dormant but unmistakable. No mortal fate can cut such a thread, and Hell cannot claim what is touched by this kind of light that she has in her soul."
The Coinbearer inhaled sharply. "What do You mean… she's bound to what?"
"Not bound, not yet," corrected the gray witch, eyes half-closed as her sisters' power flowed through her. "But touched, seeded with its essence."
"No wonder the coin could not claim her," murmured the blue witch, smiling. "Hell has no purchase on a soul such as this."
Elise felt dizzy, whether from the revelations or the witchcraft she couldn't be sure. It seemed impossible, yet it made a terrible kind of sense out of the impossible events.
She felt the Coinbearer's gloved hand gently rest on her shoulder. Even through the leather, she felt warmth. "Elise," he said quietly. "Do you hear that? You… your soul..."
"I don't understand," Elise whispered, tears of confusion in her eyes. "Why would I have… 'light' in me? I'm no one. I'm just..."
"Perhaps a gift, perhaps a curse," the gray witch said, breaking her chant. The Mirror Flame now showed a glowing filament within its depths, a golden thread pulsing gently, connected to Elise's heart. "The reason may be beyond our sight."
"This goes beyond one girl's fortune," the crimson witch warned, her eyes never leaving the image of the radiant thread in the flame. "This is a playing piece in a greater game. You.... have to vist the Palace Between Pages."
The Coinbearer's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Explain."
Before the witches could respond, the mirror-flame sputtered violently. The golden thread image swirled, disturbed. The witches staggered, their concentration broken.
A new reflection flashed on the fiery surface, green flames, demonic shapes. The cloak hissed, "Something's coming!"
The blue witch gasped, "We're found!"