The Glass Magician

She sprinted as best she could through knee-high foliage, eyes on the ground to avoid tree roots and dips. She ran a ways before stopping and ducking behind a yew tree, her lungs burning, her ankle throbbing. Blinking back tears, Ceony lowered herself to the ground and pulled off her shoe and stocking.

Her ankle certainly wasn’t broken, and had only swelled a small amount. A light sprain, perhaps, or just a twist. Nothing that wouldn’t cure itself, though she didn’t have the option of resting right now.

She pulled her stocking and shoe back on to keep the swelling down, then retrieved the mirror shard from the shed. She cradled it in her hands.

“Find me, Delilah,” she whispered. “Come on. You found me before, find me now.”

She stared at her own desperate reflection for a good minute, but nothing happened. She hadn’t expected anything different.

Ceony leaned back against the tree, trying to catch her breath. She didn’t even know where she was, so how would Delilah? If only Ceony were a Gaffer . . .

Memories of Grath’s threats filled her mind, and her heart sped with a renewed vigor. Her family. He’s going to hurt my family. Kill them. I have to get back!

Ceony cursed herself again and again as she stood, leaning against the tree for support. She had to find help. If she could only find some paper, perhaps she could send out a bird to search for Emery—

Emery’s going to kill me himself, she thought, hurrying through the scrubby woodland. I’m going to be expelled from my apprenticeship for sure.

But that didn’t matter, not right now. She had to find help. She had to warn her family. And more pressingly, she had to get away from Grath!

On she ran, more of a lopsided jog, through the woodland. The trees thinned and a few raindrops hit her nose, but the sky remained mostly dry. After a while, the earth slanted down a bit, and the trail turned east. She followed it for several miles until her muscles ached and her throat cried for water.

It ended at a wide, dirt road that went straight in both directions, no houses or signs of life along it save for a weathered sign carved in French.

French. So, she had left England. But where was she? France? Belgium? Certainly Grath wouldn’t have carried Lira clear to Canada!

Coughing, Ceony followed the road at little more than a walk. The thick clouds hid the sun, but she could tell the day had stretched into evening.

She looked over her shoulder, thinking she heard movement, but saw nothing.

She searched the sides of the road as she went, hoping to find some discarded trash made of paper, but the grounds were clean. She couldn’t even find a stick large enough to use as a cane. The ruts in the road were shallow, barely there. Wherever she had materialized, few people went.

She continued on, a cool breeze chilling her skin, her limp nearly a drag now. Her ankle had swelled more, but she couldn’t stop. She had to find someone. She had to get away. If only she could find a telegraph somewhere, but she didn’t see any wires. She didn’t even find any more signs, not that she could have read them anyway.

As the sun began to set, tinting the overcast clouds orange, she clutched the glass shard in her hands, murmuring Delilah’s name, Mg. Aviosky’s, Emery’s. No one heard her.

She followed the road until night settled too heavily for her to see, and the clouds hid the moon and stars. Panting, Ceony stepped off the road and back into the sparse trees. She sat between the roots of one, pulled her knees to her chest, and wept.





CHAPTER 15



A LIGHT SPRINKLING OF rain and soft gray light woke Ceony early in the morning, just as the cry of some wild bird and the skittering of an unseen animal had twice during the night. Her right leg tingled below the knee, and her sore back creaked as she straightened against the tree trunk. A large brown spider crept down her shoulder; Ceony shrieked, slapped it off, and jumped to her feet, stumbling on her dead leg. Her left ankle, at least, seemed much better, and the swelling had gone down while she slept.

She looked about the tree, trying to organize her scattered thoughts. Mist clung to her clothes and dripped from heavy leaves overhead.

Pulling out Lira’s switchblade, Ceony scanned the forest, searching for a flash of ginger hair, or for any sign of human life. She saw none. Still, if Grath had transported to wherever Ceony was and tracked back to the shed yesterday, it wouldn’t take him long to find her.

She put the switchblade back into her camisole and examined her mirror shard, but the glass remained smooth and unenchanted. Hopefully carrying it with her wouldn’t be a two-edged sword, but even if Grath’s image appeared in the glass, he wouldn’t know how to find her. At least Ceony hoped he wouldn’t. This was a shard from his mirror, after all.

She climbed back to the road, thinking that if she could find another inhabitant, she could get help. Or at least a piece of paper. Though in this rain, a paper bird wouldn’t make it very far.

And Ceony had no idea just how many miles stretched between her and London, or how many bodies of water. Still, she could only go onward.