The Glass Magician

Clutching Delilah’s mirror to her chest and the paper doll under one arm, Ceony cautiously approached the barn, stepping as lightly as the untamed land would allow. She peeked in past the crooked door.

Streaks of sunlight filtered into the barn through the holes in the roof. Empty stables built of splintering wood lined two of the walls, which were studded with hooks and loops that had once held tools. A few pieces of old, dry hay lay scattered over a dirt floor. Bird droppings stained the rafters. But what really drew Ceony’s attention were all the mirrors.

Dozens of them occupied the wide space, some as small as Delilah’s compact, others as tall as the vanity mirror Ceony had shattered. They sat or hung all around the barn, against walls or on the floor, tilted up and down, left and right. Had Grath set these up solely for their meeting, or had he been hiding here the entire time?

Whispering to her paper doll, Ceony left it outside the doors and stepped into the barn, setting her oval mirror against the wall, pleased by how well it blended in with its reflective sisters. Ceony checked the links of her shield chain and reached into her bag, touching each of her spells. She rested her fingers on the barrel of her pistol.

“Grath!” she shouted. “Where—”

“I’m never late for an appointment, sweetheart,” his honey-slick voice said. Ceony whirled around, spying him first in a mirror, and then his true, solid-bodied self in the opposite corner, near an old worn-out saddle on the wall. This time he didn’t wear his false nose, or clothing common in London fashion—he had donned a black shirt with sleeves so short it was nearly sleeveless, and a black jeweled belt across his torso. No, not jeweled—tiny mirrors dotted the leather. He wore well-fitted black slacks, too, and black boots.

Grath folded his arms, which looked notably larger than Ceony remembered them being. She didn’t even think Langston could hold his own against the man. She hoped the bulk was just a trick of the sleeves.

Though Grath wasn’t an Excisioner, Ceony still wanted to avoid all physical contact with him. After all, shield chains would only protect her from spells, not a man’s hands.

She cleared her throat, hoping to banish the fear from her voice. “Where’s Lira?” she asked. She winced at the tremble in her words.

Grath strode forward, and despite Ceony’s desire to show bravery, she took several steps back. The Gaffer smiled at her, but made no comment about her cowardice.

He paused by a stall and gestured to one of the larger mirrors at the back of the barn. “See for yourself.”

Keeping Grath in her peripheral vision, Ceony sidestepped until she could see into the mirror. Instead of her own reflection, she saw Lira, just as she remembered her.

The dark-haired woman crouched, flakes of frost clinging to her limbs and black clothing. Her face was contorted in a half scream, and one red-stained hand was pressed to her left eye, desperately trying to stanch the blood that dripped down her cheek and forearm. Blood from where Ceony had used Lira’s own dagger to defend herself. Small branches of ice glittered off the frozen woman’s skin and clothing.

The one thing that didn’t match Ceony’s memory was Lira’s location. She crouched not on water-strewn rocks stained with ocean salt, but on dark, splintered floorboards dotted with mouse droppings. The mirror didn’t let in enough light for Ceony to see the rest of the space.

“You didn’t bring her here,” Ceony said, pulse quickening. She looked back at Grath. “How can I help her if she’s not here?”

“Don’t be daft,” Grath said, scratching the side of his thick neck with his middle finger. “She’s on the other side of that mirror. One word from me, and we can step through it. Like a portal. A few words from you, and she’ll be whole again, minus an eye.”

He growled those last three words, making him seem much more canine than feline.

Ceony glanced back to Lira. Could she break the spell even if she wanted to? Her words at the gulf had been so absolute, and while she had told Grath the magic wasn’t anything special, she feared that wasn’t true. No Folding spells used blood in their casting, and Ceony had used blood to freeze Lira. Though both logic and Emery had assured her that that didn’t make her an Excisioner, she wondered what it meant. Did she actually have some useful information about switching one’s designated casting material?

“I may not have been entirely honest with you at the bistro,” Ceony said carefully. Knowledge was a powerful thing, and she didn’t want to give too much away. “The spell was accidental, but it may have had some crossover possibilities.”

Grath’s grin widened. “I knew it,” he said, stepping forward. Ceony stepped back, keeping space between them. Surprisingly, Grath halted. He wanted Ceony’s information as much as she wanted his, if not more. Hopefully he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.