Of Witches and Wind (35 page)

Several soldiers gasped, and every troll eye in the room snapped to the shoe in my hand, as if searching for the imprint of the famous actress's foot. For the very first time in my life, I was happy to find out that someone—a whole army of someones, actually—was a fan of my mom.

“All I want is the scepter of the Birch clan,” I said.

A couple of trolls glanced from me to the palace. I could think of only one reason why not-so-smart soldiers would look there. That had to be where they'd hidden the scepter.

“Rory,” Chase said. “There's no way they're going to trade. If they want the shoe, they'll just kill you to get it.”

He was right.

So I threw the shoe as far as I could behind the trolls. Half the trolls spun and chased it, but I didn't wait long enough to see if they would fight over it too. I whirled around and dashed up the palace steps.

Past the elegant white-and-gold door, you could see all the plywood, beams, and rusted nails that held the set together.

Here was another row of pedestals, this time with weapons: a slender samurai sword that glowed faintly green, a golden bow and arrow with rubies on the quiver, a beautiful spear with geometric patterns inlaid into the shaft.

But no silver scepters.

“It's not here, either,” I said disappointed.

Five trolls clattered inside. The one with gold-capped tusks pointed—not at me, but at a door I hadn't noticed behind the bow and arrow pedestal. “There,” the troll king said. “Before she reaches it.”

That
was where they kept the scepter. And I was closer.

I leaped. My fingers closed around the door handle, and I glanced back just in time to see a troll's spear sailing straight for my chest. I jumped aside, and it hit the door so hard it gouged out a chunk of wood.

I threw the door open and dove through.

rom all sides, mirrors reflected and fractured me—twenty, fifty, a hundred times over. I couldn't open my eyes without seeing myself in pieces—an elbow here, a ponytail there, both back pockets, my shoulder, my ear, a single hazel eye, one giant chin.

“What is it?” Lena's curiosity was on a rampage even now.

“Mirrors.” I flipped the M3 over, so she could see.

The light was dim. I looked around for a light switch or a chandelier or torches but I didn't see anything. The ceiling above me was just more mirrors.

“Rory, trolls are after you,” Chase said. “Don't just stand there with your back to the door.”

I whirled around. The door was covered in mirrors too, so it took a second for me to find the dark rectangle outlining it. I would have loved to wedge something under the doorknob, but unfortunately there was no handle from this side.

“Remember,” Chase said. “They can only come through the door one at a time. Between your sword and West's ring, you can handle that.”

My heart thudded, my grip on my sword sweaty. My face, reflected back to me a hundred times, was on the red side, some
hair plastered to my forehead. The glass was cool against my bare, dusty feet.

After a minute I lowered my sword slightly. “I don't think they're coming.”

“You're alone in a room with the scepter you're trying to steal,” Chase reminded me. “Of course they're coming.”

But the door didn't open.

Maybe they'd tricked me, and this
wasn't
where they kept the scepter—the trolls didn't seem smart enough to fake me out, though. Maybe this weird mirror place had another entrance, and they were running to cut me off.

Or maybe whatever was in here with me was too scary for them, scepter or no scepter.

I straightened up. “Okay. I think I'm going to start looking. The sooner I find the scepter, the faster I can get out of here. Who thinks I should take the time to put on my sneakers?”

“Yes!” Chase said, sounding horrified. “No fighting without shoes!”

I fished them out of my carryall, tugged on my socks, and laced my sneakers up, still wet. I put my M3 away for good measure. If I dropped it, I might never find it again.

“Great, now I can't see anything,” complained Chase.

The trolls still didn't come. I couldn't hear anything except the scuffle of my own feet, echoing out and out, taunting me from every direction. Wherever I was, it must have been pretty big.

“This has to be the creepiest place I've ever been,” I whispered, stepping forward.

“Creepier than the Glass Mountain?” asked Lena.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “At least in the Glass Mountain I knew what to expect.”

“Try looking at the ground,” Lena said. “That's my brother's trick for fun houses.”

I looked down and certainly hoped my nostrils didn't normally look that big. “No good. Even the floor is a mirror.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, tired of looking at myself. All the reflections were too disorienting.

“Let me know when you run across a troll,” Chase said.

I tried again, but as soon as I opened my eyes, I spotted the Director. “Wait, there's something else here.” I wouldn't have exactly said she was a welcome sight, but she was vastly preferable to staring at three of my chins. I walked closer.

“The scepter?” Lena asked.

“No.”

The mirror ahead showed the infirmary, the Director awake now and propped up against the wall. “A terrible, terrible idea,” she told Hansel and Gretel. “I'll acknowledge that she has clever and talented friends, but what has Rory Landon ever done by herself?”

I was offended. I'd just fought my way past fifty trolls on my own, hadn't I? And—

I couldn't think of anything else.

“How could we send her with so much at stake?” the Director continued.

My heart constricted, as Hansel and Gretel nodded. I'd been so busy fighting in the Hidden Troll Court that I'd forgotten for a second what might happen if I failed.

“Well . . . ?” Chase asked impatiently. “What is it?”

“The Director, in the infirmary.” I didn't want to tell them what she had said. Then I smashed into something hard and cool. “Ow. I think I hit a dead end.”

“You mean, you're in a maze . . . ?” Chase said.

Lena gasped. Learning this excited her so much that she started to sound like her regular unpoisoned self. “Yes, a mirror vault! Hold on! I'll set up a scrying spell to guide you through. I've read about these.”

“Oh,” Chase said, quietly. “The Unseelie Court has one too.”

“Now we know who helped the trolls with their security system,” said Lena. “The goblin priestesses from the Temple of Mirrors set them up. They must have owed the king of the Hidden Troll Court a boon, because they only build a mirror vault maybe once a century.”

“Only people with royal blood can walk through the mirror vault without activating the magical traps. The goblin priestesses set it up that way,” Chase said, sounding uneasy. “That's why they're not following you. The troll king probably doesn't want to fight you all on his own.”

“Or he thinks the vault will stop you for him,” Lena pointed out.

“Great. We've cleared that up. Any tips for getting through one?”

They were quiet. They didn't know anything cheerful.

“Ooooh!” Lena said suddenly. “The scrying spell is up. And I can kind of see—no, I do see all the walls. Rory, I see you! Go left. Walk slowly,” she added as I turned. “I'll tell you when you need to go right.”

I stepped forward, hands stretched out in front of me so I wouldn't smack into anything again.

“Keep in mind that whatever you see is designed to stop you,” Lena said. “It's basically a big, fancy security system.”

“Whenever a thief gets caught in the Unseelie mirror vault—dwarves, trolls, witches, Characters—they come out crazy,” Chase
said, and I froze. “The Unseelie knights keep straitjackets beside the entrance.”

“You didn't need to tell her that,” Lena snapped.

“Hey. We're not doing her any favors by keeping secrets,” Chase said.

“So,” I said, hating how my voice squeaked, “nobody's really broken into one?”

“Iron Hans, the night he escaped from the Unseelie prison,” Chase said.

I didn't know if that made me feel better or worse. Iron Hans was a lot more impressive than I was.

Up ahead, on my right, another scene flashed among the reflections. This one was a hotel room, a nice one, and perched upon the scarlet comforter with glossy magazines was Madison McDermott.

“Now it's a girl from my school in New York,” I said. “Not a Character.”

“What's she doing?” Lena asked.

“Talking on her cell phone.”

Madison smirked as she flicked through the pages. “Yeah, I know—Rory Landon showed up to the casting call. It was sooooo perfect, Katie.” Ugh. Was the vault seriously going to show me every single mean thing people had said about me that day? Was that how it would try to stop me? “Everything I ever told her was so true. Klonsky—this big-deal casting director—said it too, and even her dad didn't argue. She's no one special without her parents.”

I
knew
that she would say something like that. But all the hurt from the casting call rushed back and welled up in my chest. I took deep breaths until my nose stopped prickling.

“Right in three more steps!” So Lena couldn't hear Madison through the M3. That was one thing to be grateful for.

Letting my right hand trail along the mirrors, I swung around the corner as soon as I felt an opening. I was hoping that it would change—that the mirrors would be replaced by something else—but I just faced another kaleidoscope of ankles, elbows, chins, noses, chunky lips, and my t-shirt's sleeves.

“Just keep going, Rory. You're about halfway to the next turn,” said Lena.

I nodded, distracted. I wondered if I would have to live through what Klonsky had said again too, if I'd have to watch my dad agree with her.

“Left here, Rory,” Lena said.

I turned and stepped forward, but my shoulder smacked into something hard, smooth, and cold. My gasp of pain echoed through the cavern behind me, to each side, and far, far above me.

“Other left!” Lena said anxiously.

“Sorry.” I spun around and strode down the turn.

“Keep it together, Rory.”

“Shut up, Chase,” I said automatically.

“I . . . didn't say anything.” Now Chase sounded really nervous.

I swallowed hard. That meant I was hearing voices again.

Up ahead, another scene flickered across the mirrors. It took up the whole left wall, so I couldn't really look away. Waves crashed on the Atlantis beach. Fey knights circled around the imprisoned questers. No one was wearing manacles. This must have happened earlier today, before they tried to escape. Chatty stared out to sea, Mia slept, and the boys clustered around a game of cards. The M3 sat on the rock beside Chase.

I didn't want to hear what the questers would say behind my back. I needed to focus on saving them.

Ben slapped a card on the pile. “I wish Rory hadn't suggested we make camp last night. We would have gotten to the Unseelie Court in plenty of time if we hadn't stopped.”

I'd forgotten that was me.

“This one's a straight shot for a while,” said Lena through the M3. “But don't run or anything. They might put obstacles up.”

“Okay.” My throat ached, a much worse sign than my nose prickling. It only happened when I was about to cry really hard.

“Well, I wish she hadn't smashed up the troll bridge,” Kenneth said. “We lost a whole day there.”

“I wish she hadn't freed the Dapplegrim on the Fey railway,” Ben replied.

I didn't want to listen, but I couldn't make myself stop.

“Plus there was the surprise ambush from those stupid Wolfsbane trees,” Kenneth added.

Ben shook his head. “Her sword and her ring don't make up for the fact that she's a walking disaster.”