“Here. Yuck. I don’t like this, Sera.”
Neela was behind her, trying to catch up. It was an effort just to breathe in the liquid silver, never mind to move.
Sera looked past her, at the mirror they’d just swum through. She could see what was happening on its other side. Traho was in her room. He was furious. His soldiers had ripped the doors off a wardrobe and flipped over the bed looking for them. As both mermaids watched, he peered into the glass, then pounded a fist against it. Serafina shuddered. Neela pulled her away.
“I think he can see us,” she said.
“Even if he can, he can’t get to us. He can’t swim through the glass.”
“Um, Sera? How did we?”
“I don’t know,” Serafina said. “Right now, the bigger question is, can we get out again?”
The two mermaids turned and stared out at the strange new place they’d just entered, a glittering high-ceilinged hall that seemed to go on forever. Vitrina were everywhere. They sat slumped in chairs or on benches. Or stood motionlessly, heads hanging. A few lay facedown on the ground on the marble floor, as lifeless as flung-away toys. Ghosts of vain terragoggs whose souls had been captured by the mirror, vitrina craved admiration. They became listless without it.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and mirrors of every shape and size adorned the walls. Some were incredibly ornate. Others were sleek and modern. Some boasted frames of precious metals, studded with jewels. Others were made of cheap plastic.
“There must be thousands of them,” Neela said wonderingly, touching one. “Which one do we take? Where do we go?”
Sera didn’t reply right away. Then finally she said, “To the Iele.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s time to stop swimming away from everything and start swimming toward something.”
“You know how to get there? Because I don’t.”
“I do. Sort of. ‘The River Olt,’ Vr?ja told me. ‘In the black mountains. Two leagues past the Maiden’s Leap, in the waters of the Malacostraca. Follow the bones.’”
“Okay, but how do we get there from here?”
“I don’t know. I know this, though: I’m sick of being scared. Sick of being hunted. Sick of Traho, and those goggs with their spearguns. They don’t get to decide what happens to us anymore. We do. Come on.”
Sera led Neela to a mirror. They pressed their faces to the glass. It started to give way, melting around them just as the mirror in the duca’s palazzo had. A human girl was on the other side, in her bedroom. They hadn’t seen her, but she saw them—and let out an earsplitting scream. They quickly scrambled back from the glass.
“We’d better not do that again or we’ll end up flopping around on some terragogg’s floor,” Serafina said. “If we want to get to the Iele, we need to find the mirror Vr?ja used.”
“Good luck with that,” Neela said, looking at the endless hallway and its multitude of mirrors. “We need directions, or a map.”
“Maybe we could ask the vitrina how to navigate in here,” Serafina said.
“Let’s do it quickly,” Neela said, looking around uneasily. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Serafina swam to a vitrina—a woman in a slinky golden dress, with bobbed hair and pouty red lips. “Hello?” she said. “Excuse me…” She got no reponse. “Oh, isn’t she pretty!” Sera added, knowing how to perk up a vitrina. “And her dress is gorgeous.”
The vitrina drew a breath and opened her eyes. Color came into her cheeks. “Oh, thank you!” she said, sitting up in her chair. She frowned. “But what do you think of my hair?”
“It’s so beautiful!” Serafina said. “Please, Miss…”
“Josephine.”
“I know why this place creeps me out,” Neela suddenly said. “There aren’t any children here.”
“Of course there aren’t,” Josephine said. “Rorrim Drol hates children.”
“Why?” Neela asked.
“Because they’re strong and fearless. Their little backbones are made of steel. It takes years for them to soften. Fear only sets in as one grows up, you see.”
“Backbones?” Neela echoed, looking confused.
“Who’s Rorrim Drol?” Serafina asked.
The vitrina looked past them. “Shh! Here he comes! Be careful!” she said. “Don’t let him get close or he’ll bind you to the glass too.”
The mermaids turned and saw a fat bald man in a red silk robe and blue velvet slippers shuffling toward them.
He held out his arms, smiling wide.
“Is that, like, a caballabong cheer or something?” Neela whispered to Serafina.
the man said, rubbing his plump hands together.
“I’m very sorry, sir, but we can’t understand you,” Serafina said.