She pulled a paper from her pocket. The bubble map.
She shoved it in the nearest bit of snow.
When it came out, the lines were washed out, the ink running.
“That’s the strongest line,” she said, with confidence. “The house.”
Maybe this was what it was like to be Rose-in-the-Mirror, dealing with Blake.
Trusting someone’s gut instincts.
“Cool,” was all I said.
It wasn’t a long walk, and where I could have skipped ahead, I stuck by Mags.
Rose was standing on the porch with Alexis. She pointed at the side of the house.
We went in the direction she’d pointed.
The back of Hillsglade House, where the hills and the glades mingled. I’d met and bound June here, and traveling a little further, I’d negotiated somewhat unsuccessfully with the Briar Girl.
Molly was here.
She lunged. Mags threw down a line of salt.
The wraith retreated.
“You can’t even look me in the eye,” Molly said.
“It’s tough,” Mags said. She raised her head, though, and did meet Molly’s eyes.
“You killed me.”
“I had a hand in it,” Mags said.
“I didn’t want any of this.”
“I know that now,” Mags replied.
“I’m filled with so much awfulness, and there’s more every minute. I know it’s not me. Every instinct I have is telling me that the awfulness is for you. That I should make you feel it. Make you hurt and angry and frustrated and hopeless.”
“That’s an option,” Mags said. “I might even deserve it.”
“You do!” Molly raised her voice.
“But it’s not the only option,” Mags said. “I’d like to make a deal.”
“Why would I ever want to deal with you?”
Mags shifted her weight, removing her backpack and tossing it to one side.
She dropped to her knees, eyes on the ground.
“Molly Walker, I can’t ever give you what I took from you, I can’t make proper restitution. But even if I can’t give you your life back, and I can’t give you my life in exchange, because of other debts I owe… I can give you a life.”
She cast a sidelong glance at me, “Sorry, Blake.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“What’s this?” Molly asked.
“I’m asking you to be my familiar,” Mags said. “And I’ll make things up to you where and when I can. Damn the consequences.”
10.05
My tattered shoes found little traction on the ice, but the ice was reflective all the same, and it thrummed as I walked on it. I ventured out further, and each footstep seemed to echo.
People had cleaned the ice and hosed it down, washing away the rougher frost and the accumulated snow. Only the smallest portion of shore was visible, but I could make out floodlights on tripods. They stood on the snow-covered area that would be a thin strip of beach after the thaw, waiting to be set up.
For now, it was a hockey rink, rigged out on the lake with the help of planks and simple tools, reflective enough to be a big mirror. Partially dismantled for repair, cleaning, or something in that vein.
I stood in the center, hands in my pockets, and enjoyed the quiet.
It was peaceful here, if nothing else. No others were lurking nearby, that I could tell. This wasn’t the sort of area that a typical Other would lurk, and I was in the mirror world besides.
Mags needed to hash things out with Molly, and my presence wasn’t helping. I was tainting the ghost, even if it was by small amounts, and the discussion was a private one, with very real, raw feelings on both sides. Mags had her own metaphorical demons to confront, and Molly was dealing with a whole mess of negative emotions, some legitimate, others from being a wraith and absorbing the emotions and impressions around her.
It was better for me to step away. I’d checked on my family, verified they’d stopped reading through the paperwork as a group, checked if any of my friends were hanging outside the house, and then retreated to the least confined area I could find.
Well, the second least confined. Johannes’ domain was open, and the dog had been pretty decent to me, all things considered… but couldn’t that be a trap? It would be a good trick, luring me in, making promises, and then when I trusted him and waltzed blindly into the Sorcerer’s demesne, they’d pounce on me and destroy me. I didn’t want to worry, even in my downtime.
Here, I was away from it all. Things were quiet, tranquil and eerily still.
With no other sounds, no wind, no noise, no stirring of leaves or animals creeping forth, even the sounds from the other side of the reflective ice gone quiet, I was keenly aware of my own body.
I didn’t breathe. My heart didn’t beat until I willed it to. The smallest of movements made me rustle and creak, even snap like so many broken twigs, if I went too long without moving.
“Ahem.”
I turned. Faysal Anwar sat by the lake, on my side. His tail swished behind him.