DISCLAIMER: The author's imagination and passion are the only sources of inspiration for this novel, which is a work of dedication. Parallels between these pages and the past or present may be apparent to some readers, but they are completely coincidental. You are free to interpret this art anyway you see fit, and it is meant for your enjoyment.

The Mirror World was a realm of terrible, silent clarity rather than darkness. The air tasted of cold metal and ozone as Samantha stood in a world of inverted light. The clocks ticked backward, the colors were desaturated into muted grays, and most eerily, there was no sound. Despite being a flawless, crystalline replica of the Hylde estate, everything seemed a little "off." Her voice died in her throat like a bird striking a glass pane, no matter how loudly she screamed.

Watching the "Original" Reinn preen in front of the vanity, she stood in the middle of Reinn's bedroom. Samantha could see the smoky, jagged aura that clung to the body she had spent a year caring for—the black rot of the Original's soul—from this side of the glass.

Right now, the Original Reinn was having an episode. She was tearing through the closet, throwing the exquisite, understated gowns that Samantha had ordered onto the carpet.

The Original's hiss, "Rags! Absolute rags!" reverberated like a radio frequency in Samantha's mind. "Did that commoner soul truly think I would walk around looking like a governess? Where is my gold brocade? Where are my feathers?"

Samantha's palms slammed on the silver surface of the vanity as she lunged at it. "Cease it! The students gave those as gifts! That silk was Giywon's choice!"

The Original Reinn halted on the opposite side. She squinted as she examined the mirror. She sensed a wave even if she couldn't see Samantha. A jagged, nasty sneer appeared on her face. Her nose nearly touched the glass as she leaned in close.

"I can feel you scratching in there, little parasite," the Original muttered. "Go ahead. Scream. It's my turn to be the lead again. You were just a temporary occupant, a placeholder to keep the boys warm. Now, be a good little ghost and fade away."

The Original turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind her with a scornful blow-kiss.

Samantha fell to the Mirror World's floor. She could feel the weight of the silence in her ears. A horrifying sense of erasure washed over her. The "Samantha" part of her—the recollections of her former life, the sensation of the sun on her skin, and the flavor of the tea Dyierrean made—would begin to fade into the silver mist of this limbo if she couldn't get in touch with them quickly.

"Think, Samantha. Think like the analyst you were," she said to herself.

She surveyed the upside-down space. Energy must be able to flow across the points of contact if the Mirror World is a reflection of the real world. The strongest gateway was the vanity, but it was excessively thick. Something thinner was what she needed. Something delicate.

She bolted into the corridor. She headed for the library, but the Gray Manor seemed to go on forever. Giywon and Dyierrean would be there, searching for a solution, if they were anywhere.

She located them.

The library was dimly illuminated in the real world. Giywon's golden aura flickered intermittently, illuminating the dark wood of the shelves as he paced like a beast in a cage. Sitting at the center table, Dyierrean was surrounded by old, dusty books about spiritual anchors and soul-transference. Samantha was devastated by the weariness and sorrow on their faces.

Giywon sighed and pounded a fist against a shelf. "There has to be a trace," he said. "A soul doesn't just vanish. She was there, Dyierrean. Yesterday, she was laughing at my joke about the tax collectors. Today, she looked at me like I was something she stepped in."

"She's trapped," Dyierrean growled in a low, trembling voice. He was running his finger over a spirit-mirror diagram. "The 'Editor' mentioned a reclamation. He didn't say he would kill her. He said he would 'reclaim' the vessel. That implies the original soul is the pilot, but the previous one... Samantha... must be the cargo."

Samantha leaned her cheek against the bookcase's glass in front of the table. "I'm here! Look up, Dyierrean! I'm standing in front of you!"

She hammered the glass. In the real world, the quiet library was filled with a soft, repetitive tink-tink-tink.

Dyierrean froze. His wolf ancestry had sharpened his ears, and they twitched. "Did you hear that?"

Giywon ceased to pace. "Hear what?"

"A tapping. From the glass."

Samantha's heart leaped. She searched the area for a useful item. There was a ghostly silver letter opener on the Mirror World table. She took hold of it. As she clutched it, she channeled all of her strength—every recollection of the affection she felt for these men—into the blade's tip, even though it seemed light and nearly weightless.

"Just one word, please," she cried.

She faced a window overlooking the gardens illuminated by the moon. The glass was chilly. She started etching.

In the real world, despite the warm summer night, Giywon and Dyierrean gazed in surprised silence as a spot of frost started to bloom on the inside of the windowpane.

The frost did not disperse at random. It moved purposefully. It dragged in furious, jagged lines across the glass.

S-A-M...

"Giywon," Dyierrean muttered, his voice breaking. "Look."

The lines grew thinner as Samantha's vitality started to wane, and the cold persisted.

...A-N-T-H-A.

"Samantha," Giywon whispered as he extended his hand to touch the frost. Samantha experienced a shock of electricity as soon as his flesh touched the glass; the intense, lovely heat almost knocked her out.

Their gazes locked through the glass. Giywon sensed her presence even though he couldn't see her well. He experienced the "Personal Problem" he had come to cherish.

Giywon whispered, "You're in there," as his forehead touched the chilly glass. "You're in the mirrors."

The entrance to the library suddenly flew open. Standing there in a gaudy, blood-red gown was the Original Reinn. She glanced at the frosted window, then at the two men. Her eyes contracted into vicious slits.

With a mock-sweet tone, she questioned, "What are you two doing in the dark?" "And why is there ice on my window? It's quite... chilling."

The frost on the window started to hiss and melt away as she approached them. Her presence was breaking the bond.

Samantha was hurled back into the center of the Mirror Room with a searing, excruciating pain. Samantha's effect was neutralized by the Original Reinn's aura, which was like a poison.

Dyierrean stood in front of Giywon, blocking her view of the window, and stated, "We were just leaving," in a flat, icy voice. "The Prince and I have much to discuss regarding the... security of the manor."

"Oh, I'm sure you do," the Original Reinn said with a sharp, biting laugh. "But don't stay up too late. Tomorrow, I'm closing that ridiculous Academy. I find it's such a waste of space. I think a private ballroom would be much more fitting, don't you?"

Giywon and Dyierrean remained motionless as she turned and strolled out. They awaited the fading of her footsteps.

Giywon glanced at the location of the name. It had vanished now, to be replaced by a condensation streak. But his eyes were no longer filled with anguish. A terrible, frigid fire filled them.

Giywon muttered, "She's in the glass."

"Then we break the rules of the world," Dyierrean said, casting a long, jagged shadow across the ground. "We aren't just fighting a Queen anymore. We're fighting a reflection. And I'm going to shatter it to get her back."

Samantha sat up in the Mirror World, regaining her strength. She studied her hands. Once more, they were firm. She had not vanished.

The battle for the soul of the Lioness had officially begun.