The Glass Magician

IT TOOK CEONY A moment to absorb her surroundings; then she realized she was in the small rectangular mirror room on the third floor of Mg. Aviosky’s house. Muted sunlight poured through the large, multipaned windows to her left, reflecting off dozens of mirrors made of pure Gaffer’s glass, all set along the walls in a carefully chosen order. The mirrors were in all different frames and sizes, and one even had notes written along its top corners in Delilah’s handwriting. An old book titled The Shaping of Enchanted Vases for Intermediate Blowing rested spine-up on the floor, one-third read.

A pair of hands seized Ceony’s shoulders, and Delilah’s voice snatched her from her daze.

“Oh, Ceony!” she cried, hauling her up with surprising strength. Tears rimmed Delilah’s eyes and her usually perfect hair looked a fright. The Gaffer apprentice embraced Ceony tightly. “I thought you were dead! I was so scared!”

“We all were,” Mg. Aviosky said from beside her, albeit with considerably less jubilation. Her hand remained affixed to a tall, upright mirror, which swirled beneath her touch.

Ceony turned in Delilah’s embrace. “Emery,” she whispered, but just as she spoke his name the paper magician emerged from the glimmering whirlpool, his hands clasped to one of Mg. Hughes’s forearms. The Siper looked dazed, but Ceony saw no injuries.

Mg. Hughes stumbled over the mirror frame and leaned on Emery to steady himself.

As soon as they were both across, Mg. Aviosky’s hand flew from the mirror, returning its surface to normal. She braced Mg. Hughes on the other side.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Mg. Hughes nodded. “Just fine, but he used a Flash spell on me, and I’m still seeing spots.”

Delilah whispered to Ceony, “That’s when you increase the amount of light reflected off a glass surface. It works especially well with mirrors, and with enough light it can be blinding.”

Mg. Aviosky overheard and frowned. “But not in this case,” she said, guiding Mg. Hughes to a chair in the back corner of the room. “It will wear off.”

“I’ve been on the receiving end of spells far worse than this one, Patrice.” Mg. Hughes laughed. “I’ll be fine after some good blinking.”

“A-And Grath?” Ceony asked. She glanced at Emery, but such fire burned in his green eyes that she quickly redirected her gaze to Mg. Hughes.

He rubbed his eyes. “He got away, unfortunately. But I couldn’t have expected otherwise. We have men headed to that barn outside London, but I haven’t heard from them, good or ill.”

Ceony’s stomach dropped.

Clearly sensing her change in mood, Delilah cried, “I had to tell them, Ceony! Please don’t be angry.”

“And it’s a good thing!” Mg. Aviosky added, somehow managing to purse her thin lips and scold at the same time. “Good heavens, Miss Twill. It took us all night and most of the day to find you. I’d hate to think what would have happened had luck not been on my side!”

“Indeed,” Emery said, almost coldly. He picked up his indigo coat from where it hung over another mirror and draped it over his arm.

“I’m sorry,” Ceony whispered, wishing she had a shell like a hermit crab that she could crawl into. She pulled the mirror shard from her waistband and handed it to Mg. Aviosky. “This is from the mirror I came through, in the shed where Grath is keeping Lira.”

Mg. Aviosky took the shard. “Perhaps it will be of some use.”

“Sounds like it to me,” Mg. Hughes said, leaning forward in his chair. He blinked a few more times. “You should join Criminal Affairs, Ceony. You went on a fool’s errand and sent us on a wild goose chase, but we got some excellent information from all of your meddling—”

Ceony’s eyes widened, and if not for Delilah’s arms, she would have staggered. “My family!” she cried. She pulled away from her friend’s grasp and turned her gaze to Emery. “Grath said he would target my family, that Saraj would! He knew all their names, Emery!”

Emery’s countenance fell. He looked at Mg. Hughes.

The Siper stood from his chair and straightened his vest. “I worried such a threat would arise. It always does, with these types.” He rubbed his half beard in thought. “We’ll have to see that arrangements are made for the Twills.”

“Please, and quickly,” Ceony pleaded. “Thank you so much for coming after me, but it’s them I’m worried about. Marshall and Margo, they’re just kids, and my parents don’t have anywhere to go—”

Mg. Hughes, addressing Mg. Aviosky, said, “I’ll use your telegraph if I may.”

The Gaffer nodded.

Emery stepped away from the others and took Ceony firmly by the upper arm. “Come,” he said, hushed.