Yikes! “How could Prudence know about this if it happened inside the mirror?”
“Because whatever skinned the slayer sent her back to this plane still alive as a warning.”
Holy shit! “It sent her back?”
Zelda nodded. “Prudence speaks of her screams of agony before she died.”
Why did so many of these Executioner tales have to end in horrific deaths? Didn’t any villains just scatter pixie sleeping dust around and kill them in their sleep?
“Prudence spoke of someone named Juliette, who helped her try to figure out if there was a way to send the slayer back into the mirror to heal her, but their efforts were unsuccessful.” Zelda sent me a sad look. “After several hours, Prudence had to put the poor slayer out of her misery. Then she and Juliette broke the mirror into several pieces. They traveled great distances to bury each piece in a different location so the mirror could not be put back together and the fiends inside would stay imprisoned for good. She’s despised mirrors ever since.”
“Christ,” Doc said, wiping his hand down his face. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to use this mirror to catch anything, Violet, let alone the lidérc.”
“How can I find out if there is something already trapped in this mirror?”
Zelda paused, as if in thought, then answered, “She says to look in it.”
“I already did.”
Zelda held up her hand. “One moment. She’s reciting something in a language I don’t know.” After a few seconds, she lowered her hand. “Okay, she says to look in it now.”
I glanced at Doc first, who was watching me with a very crinkled forehead. He nodded slightly, giving me the go-ahead.
Cringing, I stared down into the mirror. My black eye was still there, along with my curls that were spiraling out all over. “Okay, I’m looking.”
“Now close your eyes and hold the mirror with both hands on the frame,” Zelda ordered. “Do not touch the glass.”
I obeyed, wondering if this was going to be another one of Prudence’s parlor tricks, and why she wasn’t willing to take over Zelda and use her as a puppet like she had in the past instead of making her play messenger this time.
With my eyes closed, I could hear the fire crackling, Cooper’s coat rustling as he shifted, Harvey licking his fingers, and somebody breathing heavily—wait, that was me.
“She says to speak the mirror’s name and then open your eyes again.”
Speak the … “I don’t know the mirror’s name.”
Why would a mirror have a name? Was it like “Joan the Amazing Mirror”? Or maybe something nice and easy like “Diane.” Or could it be something more elaborate like “Excalibur of the Looking Glass”?
“Prudence is astonished that you do not know the name of your own mirror.” Zelda then added in a whisper, “And she doesn’t mean that in a nice way, Violet.”
I had little doubt that Prudence was rattling off a litany of insults about me and my family line at this very moment. “Remind her that the mirror was handed down without instructions.”
“Hold still, Violet,” Zelda said. “She is going to read the symbols on the frame to see if she can help, but she doesn’t want you to move or open your eyes, because it puts her at risk of being trapped inside the glass.”
“This is some crazy fucking shit, Nyce,” I heard Cooper mutter.
“Wait until you see what’s in the mirror,” Cornelius told him. “My grandmother warned me that looking glasses were tools often used by the most heinous architects of evil.”
“You think there’s one of them there white grizzlies starin’ out at us?” Harvey whispered.
I growled under my breath. “Would you guys be quiet? This is freaky enough without the peanut gallery trying to scare the bejeesus out of me, too.”
“Next time, Parker, maybe you should bring your teddy bear to keep you safe.”
“I did, and he’s going to kick your ass at poker for me the next time you guys play.”
“She’s right,” Doc said. I could hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll probably make you cry a little for picking on my girlfriend, too.”
“You can kiss my crying ass, Nyce.”
“Okay,” Zelda said, stopping all other chatter. “Violet, Prudence wants you to think back. Way back.”
“To childhood?”
“Farther, into your ancestral memories.”
“How can I think farther if I wasn’t even born?”
“Wait.” Zelda stopped me. “Oh, I don’t want to say that to Violet,” she said, which I assumed was directed at Prudence.
“Say what?” I asked.
“Well, these are Prudence’s words not mine.”
“Fine. What did she say?”
“That even a line as slovenly and simple-minded as yours should have herd memory in your blood.”
“That’s it,” I snapped. “I’ve had enough of Prudence’s insults and …”
Arcana, a voice whispered to me.
Actually, it sounded a lot like my voice.
“Arcana,” I repeated aloud and then as Prudence had instructed, I opened my eyes.
The sight of my face covered in blood and chunks of something pink and fleshy filled the frame. My reflection’s eyes were wide, white-rimmed, horror-filled, staring back at me through all of the blood. As I watched with a cry of horror lodged in my throat, my face started to peel in thick, fleshy strips, exposing bone and cartilage underneath. One of my eyes slipped out of its socket and dangled on my bloody cheek.
I gasped, finally able to breathe again. Then I screamed and closed my eyes again, squeezing them tight.
Make it go away! Make it go away! Make it go away!
“Shit criminy, girlie,” Harvey slurred through a mouthful of food. “You made me spill my milk.”
“Violet,” Doc said in my ear. “What did you see?”
I opened one eye, peeking back into the mirror. It was just me again.
I shoved the mirror toward Doc, shuddering after he took it from me
