CHAPTER 9
THE WOMEN’S LAVATORY, WHICH was composed of two rooms, looked just as elegant as the lobby. The entry opened onto a small sitting area illuminated by a frosted window dressed in maroon drapes, as well as a small white-crystal chandelier buzzing with electric lights. Wallpaper adorned with yellow cowslips covered the walls, trimmed at ceiling and floor by a narrow maroon border. A glass makeup stand rested in the corner with a rosewood bench and small, round mirror, and a narrow dresser sat against the west wall between two cushioned chairs. Above the dresser hung a large, rectangular mirror in a gold frame. Exotic ferns decorated the other corners of the room. The next room held a few modest stalls.
Ceony approached the larger mirror, checking its surface for any flaws, though she felt sure she was looking for all the wrong things. Delilah chewed on her thumbnail, looking even more distraught than she had in the lobby.
Ceony turned to her. “Will it work?”
Delilah approached the mirror and gave it a quick perusal. “Well, it should, but . . .”
She didn’t finish the sentence, only reached out and tapped her nails against the glass, first in the center, then on the edges.
“Please, Delilah,” Ceony begged. “Can you find the mirror in the lobby of my complex?”
Delilah nodded. “I might as well act like a real magician, too,” she said. She pressed her hands to the glass and closed her eyes. “Search,” she said, and the mirror fogged beneath her touch. The image began to flash from image to image. Ceony could only suppose they were reflections of other mirrors in the city; she saw a white dust cloth, a cluttered attic, two little girls sitting in a pink-painted room having a tea party. She saw the startled face of a man, a woman desperately trying to zip up the back of her dress, and then the staircase in the lobby of her block of flats.
“There, there!” Ceony cried, and Delilah ripped her hands from the mirror, taking a step back to see for herself.
Ceony recognized the walnut-glazed staircase, the short table holding both a telephone and a telegraph, the slip of hallway on the edge of the picture that led back into the landlord’s rooms. The mirror hung on the wall near the receiving desk. If Ceony could stick her head through it and look to the left, she’d see the front doors of the building.
“Can they see us?” Ceony asked.
“Anyone who walks by will,” Delilah said. She heaved a deep breath and said, “Well, come on. Let’s hurry before we’re caught.”
Delilah pulled over one of the cushioned chairs and stood on it, then traced the tip of her right index finger just inside the mirror’s gilded frame clockwise, counterclockwise, then clockwise again. She said, “Transport, pass through.”
The image of the lobby shivered and faded, and the glass of the lavatory mirror started to ripple.
“I hope the mirror on the other side is big enough,” Delilah said.
“It is,” Ceony promised.
Delilah grabbed her hand, sucked in another breath, and held it. She stepped up on the dresser—pulling Ceony onto the chair, their hands still linked together—and slowly slipped through the silvery glass.
Ceony squeezed her friend’s hand tighter and gasped at the coldness of the glass as her hand, arm, and shoulder squeezed through it. She closed her eyes as the rest of her body slipped onto the other side. It felt wet, yet the wetness didn’t stick. The lighting around her changed to a more orange tone, and she tripped as she tumbled down from the frame of the lobby’s mirror. Delilah steadied her.
Ceony opened her eyes and parted her lips in wonder. She really was standing in the lobby of her block of flats!
Whirling back to face the mirror, Ceony saw it ripple for only half a second before the glass returned to normal, reflecting her image and Delilah’s, not the Parliament lavatory.
Ceony cried out and flung her arms around Delilah.
“Amazing!” she said, stepping back just as quickly. “I can’t believe you can do that! How remarkable to be a Gaffer, Delilah!”
Delilah smiled. “Not a Gaffer yet, technically.”
Ceony grabbed Delilah’s hand and pulled her past the stairs to the lift, ignoring the wide-eyed stare of a man who had obviously witnessed them pop out of the mirror as easily as if it had been a door. She drew the lift doors shut, but as it slowly climbed to the twelfth floor, her excitement about mirror-to-mirror transport gradually slipped away, replaced by a stirring anxiety.
Grath.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she fished out her key and opened the door to her and Emery’s temporary abode. Nothing had changed from that morning. Fennel looked up expectantly from the couch, where it appeared he had been sleeping.
“You keep quiet about this, boy,” Ceony said just above a whisper. She tugged Delilah inside, locked the door behind her, and led the way to the vanity room.
The room had remained untouched since Ceony had tucked the pieces of shattered glass into the three blind boxes. She left the door open and knelt by the first blind box, handling it with care.
“So, none of these are big enough for someone to pass through, right?” she said.
Delilah nodded. “Yes, he can’t come through anymore. At least not using this mirror.”
Ceony nodded. Opening the lid of the blind box, she carefully lifted one piece of the mirror out, an oblong triangle with sharp edges and one chipped corner. It measured just larger than her hand. She shut the blind box and handed the piece to Delilah.
Delilah turned it over in her hands, then set it on the floor. “I’ll do the spells, Ceony, but I don’t want him to see me.”
“He did, once. At the bistro.”
Delilah shuddered. “Well, I don’t want him to see me again.”
Ceony nodded. Delilah pressed her fingers to the glass, then scooted away so that the shard of mirror didn’t reflect her face. Ceony hovered over it instead, staring into her own reflection, shadowed and blue from the filtered light passing through the room’s window.
“Reflect, past,” Delilah ordered, and Ceony’s reflection changed to a wide view of the vanity room.
Ceony licked her lips. “It can show you what happened in this room before?”
Delilah nodded and whispered, “It’s handy for detective work. Magician Aviosky used to serve on the police force before transferring to Tagis Praff.”
“Really?”
Delilah nodded, then returned her focus to the work at hand. “Search, Ceony Small,” she said. To Ceony, she whispered, “Your compact. I named it so we could chat long distance.”
She smiled. “That’s sweet.”
“Reverse,” Delilah commanded the mirror, in a voice as bold as a mouse’s.
The image in the glass changed, and in it Ceony could see the foot of a bed and a wardrobe—the same room where Grath had stood before. Her makeup mirror must have been sitting in the middle of the mattress. She heard voices coming from the part of the room she couldn’t see and leaned in closer to the mirror so she could hear them better.
“Hold,” Delilah whispered.
“—can’t keep going behind my back!” Grath hissed. Ceony recognized his voice immediately.
She didn’t recognize the voice that responded, smooth as chocolate and with a strange accent that clipped most of his vowels and swallowed half his consonants: “How long have we been in England?” he asked, his voice quieter than Grath’s, more practiced. Ceony had to press her ear to the glass to hear, and her drumming heart only made it that much harder to listen. “We were supposed to sail for Gibraltar three months ago. Your plan, if you remember.”
“I’ve talked to wild dogs that make me repeat myself less than you do, Saraj.”
Ceony stiffened and glanced to Delilah, whose eyes widened until they shined more white than brown.
In her stupor, Ceony missed the first few words of Saraj’s response. “—lost interest now. You promised me a good game, but there’s no excitement here.” He paused. “Let’s get the bird gone and sail. I hear African blood makes for a strong aphrodisiac.”
She could sense the Excisioner’s smile. Her every limb shivered.
“I don’t want her dead!” Grath shouted. Ceony jerked back from the mirror shard, and Delilah nearly released it. “Not yet. We still—”
“Find yourself some new meat,” Saraj replied, tone darkening. “You’re on your own. I’m—”
“Shhh,” Grath hissed.
Saraj said nothing, and a moment later the view in the mirror changed, shifting to show the front of the wardrobe and the hinges on the room’s door. Grath had picked it up.
Ceony shouted into the mirror, hoping it would make Grath think she’d only just tapped into it. “Grath! Are you there?” she called. “I’ve got your magic. Let’s talk!”
To her relief, he chuckled. Gooseflesh instantly tickled her arms and legs. The image in the mirror shifted and darkened, revealing Grath’s face. His burn had completely healed. Had Saraj done that?
Delilah cowered, but kept her hands on the mirror. Grath blocked off the rest of the room behind him, including all signs of Saraj.
“And the little bird returns,” Grath said. His eyes shifted left and right, as though he were trying to peer past Ceony. “What Gaffer have you gotten to help you, hmm? Brave man.”
“It’s none of your concern,” Ceony snapped, talking louder than necessary to keep her voice from shaking. “I’m ready to negotiate.”
Grath laughed again. Ceony kept her face smooth, though she couldn’t help but purse her lips. She knew negotiating with a killer was worthless—she wasn’t completely dim-witted. Still, it could only be to her benefit if he thought her na?ve. Na?veté seemed the strongest card Ceony had to play, and she knew how to cheat at cards.
“I admit I wasn’t expecting cooperation,” Grath said, pitching his voice low.
“I’m only cooperating if you leave Saraj Prendi out of the picture,” Ceony said. “This is between you and me.”
Grath frowned. A vein in his forehead popped and pulsed, and Ceony thought she heard the closing of a door behind him. Had the Excisioner left?
“That man is a real tosser,” Grath said, grinning wide enough to reveal his sharp canines, but that vein still throbbed in his forehead. His ears had turned red as well. “I’ll take care of him, pet. Don’t you worry. I don’t want you dead, not yet. Not when you still have information I need.”
Delilah whimpered. Ceony gestured for her to stay quiet.
“Good. I’m glad we’re already in agreement,” she said.
The vein on Grath’s forehead smoothed. “I’m listening. Talk.”
“Not that easy,” Ceony said. “I want a guarantee that Saraj leaves us alone. In fact, the farther away he goes, the better.” Gibraltar, Africa, I don’t care. Just get him away.
“Us?” Grath repeated. “You and Thane?”
“Us, as in everyone who lives here,” Ceony snapped. “Think outside the frame, Grath.”
He chuckled. “I get Saraj out, and you tell me your little secrets.”
“And I want you out, too,” Ceony said. “I’ll give you what you want, but I want you—and Lira—gone for good.” Preferably in a jail cell, if I can swing this right.
Grath hesitated for a moment, but said, “Done.”
Ceony tried to hide her surprise. Grath sounded sincere; would he and Saraj really leave if Ceony restored Lira? No, she didn’t even need to restore her, only tell Grath how she froze her in the first place. She didn’t think that information could be used for ill, at least not by a Gaffer.
What are you thinking? she chided herself. You can’t actually give that information away. Just make him beg for it long enough to expose his weakness.
At least it sounded like Saraj wanted to leave anyway. A small relief, albeit an uneasy one. Who would the Excisioner hurt next?
She turned the bargain over in her mind, kneading it like bread dough. Could she get Grath’s defenses down long enough to do him in?
“Having second thoughts?” Grath asked. “Too late to back out, dearie. We do this now, or I’ll have Saraj hurt you bad, you hear? You’ve got a family in town? Parents? A cute sister, maybe?”
Ceony’s heart hammered. Her chest felt cold. She swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to hide her frayed nerves, her panic. “Wh-Where is Lira?”
“I can take you there,” the Gaffer said. He backed off from the mirror by a few inches. “Tell me where you are.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Ceony countered. She pulled up Emery’s schedule from her memory—he had a meeting with Parliament again tomorrow, at one o’clock. Another meeting Ceony couldn’t attend. The timing was perfect.
“Tomorrow, after lunch,” she said. “I don’t like cooperating on an empty stomach. One thirty.”
Delilah’s eyes bugged. She tried to gesture something to Ceony without taking her hands off the mirror, but Ceony ignored her.
Grath chuckled. “There’s an abandoned barn outside of the city, south. If you take Hangman’s Road to the fork, and the dirt street west, you’ll see it. Off the road, at the base of the hills. Come by yourself, because if I so much as see a driver with you, I’ll find that blond piece from the restaurant and have some fun with her. Understand?”
Delilah paled, but thankfully didn’t break the spell.
Ceony cleared her throat before answering. “Clear as Gaffer’s glass. Same to you.”
Grath laughed again. “And what will a Folder do to me, hmm?”
“I’m more than a Folder, remember?” Ceony lied. She made a sharp gesture to Delilah, who whispered, “Cease.” Grath’s image vanished, and the mirror reflected only Ceony’s face.
Ceony scooped the shard of mirror off the floor and shoved it into the blind box, breathing like she had just run up ten flights of stairs.
“You can’t!” Delilah cried, tears on her eyelashes. “You can’t possibly meet with him! You have to tell the magicians!”
“And let you get hurt? Or my family?” Ceony shot back. “Do you think he was kidding about Saraj? I told you, Delilah, this is my fight now.” She wrung her hands together, trying to ignore the feeling of dripping oil inside her stomach. “I just have to be prepared.”
Delilah nodded. “Prepared, okay. We . . . we can do this.”
Ceony sat back, propping herself up with her hands, and thought for a long moment. “We need to outsmart him, and form a plan for if things don’t go well,” she said. “But if I can get rid of them, I’ll do it. I have to.”
“Can you set a trap?” Delilah asked. “Something . . . papery?”
Ceony perked up. “Can you take me to the cottage, Delilah? To Magician Thane’s house?”
Wrinkles creased her forehead. “What do you need there?”
“A giant glider,” Ceony said. “And a paper doll.”