CHARLOTTE WAS ON THE FRONT PORCH, HEADING toward her car, when she heard her phone ring. She fished it out and glanced at the screen. She smiled when she saw the caller’s name.

“Good morning, Thelma,” she said. “Is everything okay at your place?”

“Actually, it’s not, dear.”

“Are you all right?” Charlotte asked quickly.

“Yes, yes, of course. I didn’t mean to alarm you. There was a good deal of damage to my garden and the high winds took off a section of the greenhouse roof. The power is off, of course.”

“Same here. Slade said it’s off in town, too.”

“There’s nothing that can’t be repaired here at my place,” Thelma said. “The problem is that there’s a tree down in my front yard. It’s blocking the driveway. I can’t get my car out and I need to go into town to pick up a few things. I wondered if you could give me a ride?”

“Of course. I’m just about to leave to check up on Looking Glass. Slade did a quick drive-by early this morning when he went into town to assess the damage. He said everything looked fine at the shop but he didn’t have time to go inside. I want to make sure that there were no leaks. I’ll pick you up in about five minutes. How’s that?”

“Perfect. I’ll walk out to the road and meet you. There is so much debris down in the drive that I don’t think you could get anywhere near the house.”

Charlotte opened the car door. “I’m on my way.”

“Thank you, dear.”

“It’s the least I can do after all the fabulous zucchini bread and the basil and tomatoes you’ve given me.”

Thelma chuckled. “I’m just grateful to have a neighbor who appreciates good veggies. See you in a few minutes.”

The phone went silent. Charlotte dropped it back into her purse and drove cautiously out to the main road. Branches, limbs, and windblown debris littered the drive and the narrow strip of pavement that wound along the top of the cliffs.

Slade had left early to organize his small staff and an assortment of volunteers. By now they were all out identifying hazards such as downed power lines and making sure those who lived alone were all right. When he had phoned earlier he had advised her that the road into town was reasonably clear.

Thelma was waiting at the junction of her drive and the road. She was bundled up in a faded windbreaker and carried a covered basket on her arm. She opened the door on the passenger side and got into the car.

“Good morning, dear,” she said. She settled the basket on her lap. “My goodness, that was quite the storm, wasn’t it?”

“They predicted seventy-mile-an-hour winds and I think we got them,” Charlotte said.

“I expect Slade will be very busy for the rest of the day.”

“Looks like it. When he called a while ago he was on his way out to Zeke Hodson’s house to make sure everything was okay.”

“Good. Zeke is getting on in years. He must be eighty-five or eighty-six by now and he has always kept to himself. Never had a phone. He could collapse in his house and no one would know it for weeks.”

Charlotte’s phone rang again. She braked to a stop to answer it. A glance at the screen showed Slade’s name.

“Hi,” she said. “How’s the recon going?”

“So far nothing serious,” Slade said. “You okay?”

The urgency in his voice surprised her.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m on the way into town. Thelma is with me. She called a few minutes ago to ask for a lift.”

“Is she all right?”

“Yes, but there’s a tree blocking her driveway so she couldn’t get her car out.”

“All right,” he said. “Drive carefully. There are broken tree limbs hanging everywhere. Some of them are big. If one comes down on a windshield it would do some major damage.”

“I know. I’ll be careful.”

“Power is out all over the island and there’s some damage to the ferry dock and the marina. We won’t be getting any ferry service for at least forty-eight hours. Willis said some of the B&B guests are not happy about being trapped on the island. The visitors out at the lodge don’t like it, either. But aside from the whining, it shouldn’t be a major problem. I’ll check back with you later.”

“Okay,” she said. She closed the phone and dropped it into her purse.

Thelma smiled knowingly. “I do believe the town’s cunning strategy to keep Chief Attridge on the job is working nicely. He seems quite concerned about you, Charlotte.”

Charlotte felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “Slade and I are dating but that’s all. I am not a part of the local conspiracy.”

“I understand, dear,” Thelma said. “But that fact only makes it all the more romantic, don’t you think?”

Charlotte laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“I’ve lived alone for a long time but I haven’t forgotten what romance and passion feel like,” Thelma said. “I doubt if anyone ever forgets those things.”

“No,” Charlotte said. For better or worse, she was certainly going to remember Slade for the rest of her life.

The town’s small central core had come through the gale in remarkably good shape. The tourist-oriented shops were all closed but the grocery, hardware, and gardening supply stores were open and doing a brisk business.

“Shall I drop you off at Spindler’s Garden Supply?” Charlotte asked.

“No need for that. I’ll get out at Looking Glass and walk down the street to Spindler’s.”

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble, really.”

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll just take a few minutes to make sure everything is okay inside my shop. Then I need to pick up a few things at the grocery store. After that I’ll drive you home.”

“Perfect,” Thelma said. “I do appreciate this.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Charlotte said.

She drove down the lane behind the row of shops and parked at the back door of Looking Glass. She and Thelma got out of the car. Thelma waved and started off toward the walkway that separated Looking Glass from the neighboring shop.

Charlotte went up the back steps and rezzed the lock on the door. She really was going to have to get a new lock, she reminded herself.

She opened the door and stepped inside. The interior of the shop was heavily shadowed. Automatically she rezzed the wall switch. Ice shivered down her spine when the lights did not come on.

Thelma spoke behind her. “The power is out, remember, dear?”

Charlotte turned quickly in the doorway. Thelma was coming up the steps. She held a Baroque silver-and-gold hand mirror, the glass face aimed at Charlotte. Dark crystals glittered on the frame and handle of the old looking glass. Strange alchemical markings were etched into the metal. It was impossible to focus on the face of the mirror. It was like looking into a pool of mercury. The surface seethed with energy.

“The Quicksilver Mirror,” Charlotte whispered. The antiques dealer in her asked the first question that came to mind. “That’s supposed to be in an Arcane museum. How did you get it?”

“This isn’t the place to chitchat about such things.” Thelma reached the top step. “Inside with you now. Wouldn’t want anyone to see us.”

“Forget it.”

Charlotte moved forward, intending to shove Thelma off the step. But the Quicksilver Mirror flashed with a shocking radiance. The force of the short blast of energy jolted through Charlotte. For a heartbeat the world around her exploded with eerie ultralight lightning.

She gripped the doorjamb to steady herself and intuitively shut down her senses. It was the only move she could think of that might offer some protection. In the hands of a powerful talent, the mirror was a lethal weapon.

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