House on Bo-Kay Lane Book

"House on Bo-Kay Lane" continues the adventure begun in book one in this series, "Gerald and the Wee People".
Gerald and Vernon believe their time with the wee people came to an end after they returned to their home world but begin to wonder when strange things started to happen at an abandoned house in their neighborhood. Ghostly images of familiar faces from the wee people village are seen in the windows, echoes of voices from the past haunt the boys' dreams and an undeniable curiosity draws Gerald and Vernon to investigate the mysterious haunted house. What they find takes them back to the world of the wee people and a new adventure begins.
In "House on Bo-Kay Lane", a mirror is found in a forgotten room in the far-seers' training center. Sheela, a far-seer master and Alyson, an apprentice firestarter are unwillingly drawn into the depths of the mirror and wind up in the abandoned house on Bo-Kay Lane. Sheela uses her telepathic skills to enlist the aid of Gerald, Vernon and Gerald's father, Andrew to help find the way back to the world of the wee people.
That problem resolved, they try to unravel the secrets of the mirror and find that it is a portal between their two worlds, as well as to a time in the future and possibly even to a parallel universe. They also discover that someone is trapped inside the mirror and the decision has to be made as to whether or not to help the trapped soul escape the confines of the portal.
Meanwhile, the wee people discover the origins of their world. That knowledge is not well accepted and leads to discord between them and the outworlders, Gerald, Andrew and Vernon. An uneasy truce paves the way to an understanding and acceptance of the unwelcome facts and eventually to a solution of how to deal with the man in the mirror.

Excerpt
A sense of peace washed over the young man as he sat on the rock. Something inside him gave him a second wind and the determination to complete his mission. He looked at his hands. They were a raw, bloody mess. He had held onto the rope during the fall which probably saved his life. The rope kept him from gaining too much speed during his downhill slide, but it cost him dearly. All the skin on his hands had been rubbed off.
Tomas' shirt was in tatters, nearly ripped off him by the protruding obstacles during his fall. There was an advantage to that though. It made it easier to tear off strips of material to wrap around his throbbing hands. He wrapped one long strip around his chest, resulting in each breath being a little less painful.
He was ready, or at least as ready as he would ever be. Tomas stood, grabbed the rope and began the process over again. Two steps, move hands, two more steps, move hands; he got back in to the familiar rhythm.
Tomas thought of nothing else. The voices from above were silenced, the pain in his ribs subsided, the ache in muscles relaxed. All he could hear was the beating of his heart; all he could feel was the roughness of the rope tearing through the strips of cloth. He could taste the sweat dripping from his forehead down to his parched lips. It was like a dream, he was there, but not really there. He could visualize his body slowly inching up the slope as if he was watching with the others from above. Then again, he knew his life depended on each step. It was up to him and him alone to win this fight with fate.
The young man reached up and grasped nothing, no mud, no rope, just a handful of air. Seconds later, many hands grabbed his and pulled him up onto the solid flat ground. The tension and stress from his ordeal caught up with Tomas at that moment, and he began to cry. Big wracking sobs releasing the pain, fear and relief tore from his throat. No one thought any less of the muscular teenager for his show of emotion; actually everyone joined him and shed their own tears.
It was a very somber group that returned to camp late that afternoon.