Disclaimer: I still don't own them. Just as well, I suppose.

Author's Note: I want to thank all who've reviewed so far. It's been very encouraging and helped me plowed ahead a little more swiftly than I might have. Hopefully, things will start to become a little clearer here, though I know I'm leaving a lot of things unanswered as of yet, but at least you'll know who the man in the mirror is. Please enjoy and review.

Addendum: This chapter has been slightly cleaned up, only in the most technical sense. The content is identical.

II

The Man in the Mirror

Hook stared at the reflection, if reflection it could be called. There was a superficial likeness, he thought. The blue eyes were familiar, though hidden behind spectacles. The brown hair was the same tint though short and combed back neatly. But there was a weakness and timidity about this specter in the glass which Hook had never allowed in himself. Well, perhaps when it came to the crocodile, but that was the limit. Hook watched as the image moved in sync with his motions. The oddest thing was seeing two good hands instead of one. What was the magic of this place?

"Who are you?" Hook asked, scratching over the mirror with his hook. His only answer was a scrambling noise further up the gallery.

Turning he moved cautiously up the room, noting that the Pan portrait was back on the wall looking untouched. "Well, at least I have something to amuse me," he murmured as he looked for the source of the sound.

The gallery grew narrower and darker. Hook began to wonder if he heard anything at all when there was a clatter just ahead of him. "Will you walk into my parlor . . ." Hook murmured raising up his claw before turning the corner and finding himself face to face with a lady.

He started back before realizing that it was yet another portrait, though one far more realistic than the others. It was full length and of a beautiful dark-haired woman wearing a pink evening gown. Hook was most struck, however, by the expression in the brown eyes which seemed to be looking straight at him, an expression of devotion and adoration. He reached his hand up to the portrait. "You must have loved the artist very much, my dear. A great pity that sentiment was not shared, and you ended up in a dark corner in a place for the damned." He sighed. "A great pity indeed. You're far too lovely to be here. I don't suppose, though, it was you who made the noise." Scanning around the portrait, Hook spotted a large crack that ran parallel to the frame and pushed against the wall. The picture swung inward. "Hmm, apparently I was wrong about that. Perhaps this is the parlor." Hook stepped through the panel and then pushed aside a heavy drape in front of him and entered a brightly lit room.

The walls were gilt and the carpeting thick. A large overstuffed chair was positioned in the middle of the room facing a large red curtain. On either side of the chair was a table, one holding a selection of candied fruits and cake and the other, decanters of wine and glasses.

"How very hospitable. Now, what is behind this curtain?" Hook found the cord and pulled sharply. The curtain slipped back to reveal what looked to be on first glance simply a wall-sized mirror. However, when Hook took the trouble to actually look at it, he realized that it showed nothing at all. He sighed. "First, a mirror that doesn't reflect me, now one that doesn't reflect at all. Maybe I really am dead, or a vampire. Well, I don't seem to crave blood . . . , " he paused for a moment to think. "At least, no more than I did."

He looked up and down the blank surface of the wall. What did they do with mirrors in fairy stories? Oh, yes. "Mirror, Mirror on the wall, show me something, anything at all."

Nothing happened. He gave it a kick. The mirror shuddered. Hook jumped back and watched as the surface swirled and shimmered like water. After a moment, the surface began to calm and an image began to appear. It was the man from the mirror. Only this time, he wasn't Hook's reflection. He was moving on his own, walking down a busy street and softly at first then more clearly, Hook could hear the noises of the city.

"Now, this is getting interesting," Hook said pouring himself out a glass of wine and taking a piece of fruit, before sitting down in the very comfortable chair. "Spirits of the air, show me what you've got now."

TO BE CONTINUED