I looked into it and saw my own reflection looking back. I touched the surface, and it was only cool glass.
… Huh.
Wait, if my reflection is inthismirror, butI’min the mirror-world, does that mean there’s another mirror-world past this one? And another past that and another past that?
When we’d stood between two mirrors as kids, was that infinite line of reflections bouncing back and forth a vision onto infinite silvery worlds? Had we made mirror-gelds not just here, but in each one? Or would I have to take two mirrors into this world and stand between them to make a mirror-geld in the next?
I took a deep breath, rewrapped the mirror, and put it away. This wasn’t helping, and I was getting a headache from contemplating too much infinity. Better I should see if I could unscrew the door hinges with my penknife.
As it turned out, no. I managed to strip the screwhead nicely, whereupon I did what I’d been wanting to do for hours now, and burst into tears.
There was no light. There was no dark. Time passed, presumably, but I had no way to measure it. All I could do was sit on the edge of the bed and get colder and colder. The obnoxious thing was that itwasn’tactually that cold. It was miles away from freezing. But the mirror-stuff didn’t ever warm up; it just pulled the heat out of you, hour after hour. And without any water, you’d be amazed how fast you die of exposure, even above freezing.
There was water, after a fashion. The basin was full of dark, oilymirror-water. Sooner or later I’d be thirsty enough to drink it. It probably wouldn’t kill me. If the Queen had wanted me dead, she could just have had her guards kill me.
It’s not as if she has to worry about how to dispose of my body. Everyone will think I’ve vanished without a trace, except maybe Javier.I sighed. Blessed Saint Adder, Javier. When he couldn’t find me, he’d know I’d gone into the mirror, even though I’d said I wouldn’t. Would he guess I’d had a reason? Would he come after me?
A small, treacherous hope bloomed at the thought, which was immediately crushed by the large boot of guilt. One man against however many guards the Queen had? I’d only seen three, but she could have dozens stashed in out-of-the-way rooms. We hadn’t gotten anywhere near searching the guard barracks or the barns just down the road.
I took off my outer robe and folded it to sit on, in hopes that the heat would leach away a little more slowly. Normally if you want to stay warm, you want some kind of platform, so you have a layer of air in between your bedding and the ground. But when the blankets might as wellbethe ground, that didn’t help much.
What I really need is a hammock made of real fabric. Then if I had enough real layers, I could probably survive for quite some time. So all I need is a large piece of real fabric and two anchor points… Hmm, I could probably use the bedposts, if I had something to tie it off with…
And while I’m wishing for things, I would like a battering ram to knock the door down.
I sat. When I got too cold, I stood up and walked around, swinging my arms, trying to generate heat. I wondered if I’d survive a night of sleep.
I was doing another circuit of the room when the door opened and they shoved Javier through.
I let out a squawk. The door slammed. Javier fell onto his knees, then his face.
“Javier!” I dropped next to him. “You’re here! But whathappened?”
He groaned. “Worst charge,” he mumbled, still facedown. “Gonna staple myself to you.” He tried to prop himself up on one forearm and hissed. One eye was already swelling shut.
“Look, it wasn’t intentional.”
“Yeah.” He took a deep, wincing breath. “Saw the broken mirror. Figured something happened.”
“Someone decided they wanted me back over here and dropped a mirror over my head.” I slid my arm under his. “If you can get up, I can get you onto the bed.”
“Fine… I’m fine…”
Judging by the hissing through his teeth, he was not actually fine, but I managed to haul him up onto the bed, where he fell on his back. “Ahhh… that’s better. Saints.” He put a hand to his black eye. “I chopped one of them in the leg. They weren’t happy. There was some kicking.”
I began unlacing his jacket. He looked down and managed a weak smile. “First you get me in bed, and now you start undressing me…”
“Checking your ribs,” I told him tartly. “If one’s broken, you could puncture a lung.” (Mind you, if one was broken, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. You were supposed to bind ribs tight, I think? Not for the first time, I regretted that I hadn’t paid more attention to medicine that didn’t involve poison.)
There were marks darkening across his body, but none of the ribs moved weirdly when I touched them. That seemed good? Maybe?
“It was mostly the kidneys,” he said. “I’ll be pissing blood for a while.”
I grimaced. That sounded bad. Also completely beyond my ability to fix. “I have no idea what to do about that,” I admitted.
“Not much,” he said. “The cold sheets feel good. Just give me a minute.”
“Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.”
