Chapter 7 – Surrounded by Reflection...
No winged and fanged monsters of the skies swoop downward upon me when I next open my eyes. No fires singe my eyebrows. No pollution taints my smell. I do not need to tread through thorn brambles, nor tiptoe through weeds concealing serpents. Cold does not make me shiver, and heat does not make my sweat. For the first time in a many trips through Fay's snow globes, I feel comfortable and safe.
I sit at a long, glass table. My reflection shimmering upon the table's surface is the first sight to greet me. I see no elegant, alabaster towers, no forest trees that rise through the clouds. My reflected face feels like a very disappointing sight at the end of a snow globe travel. The radiation treatments have stolen my hair so that nothing conceals the scars from the surgery to remove my brain tumor. My face looks swollen and misshapen. My skin is gray, dried and cracked. I am a young man, but my reflection casts an image of a broken, old man.
My reflection does not inspire me, so I scan my surroundings. Glass surrounds me. Mirrors cover every inch of the walls, confronting me with my reflection no matter where I look. Glass chandeliers hang from a mirrored ceiling, reflecting prismatic colors throughout the room that sting my vision. The chamber enhances whatever its guests bring into it. But I bring only my weakness, and my pallor, my ugliness, and all my hurt. This chamber is the ugliest location of all the places I have visited with Fay.
“Isn't it wonderful, Adam? Isn't it just marvelous?”
Light swirls and shifts in my periphery vision. Gold and silver hues dance across the chamber's polished surfaces as Fay enters from a doorway that opens in an expanse of mirror. A silver dress shimmering in so much reflected light replaces Fay's customary, motley wardrobe. My sight struggles to focus upon her for the hundreds of small mirrors that have been sewn into her dress's fabric. Her halos are blinding, filling the chamber with such bright intensity that pain hammers in my skull. Cruelly, the pain intensifies until I must close my eyes so that Fay's beauty does me no more hurt.
“What's wrong, Adam?”
“He is only mortal, Fay.”
Instantly, I know the Regent's voice has entered the chamber.
I hear the mockery hidden beneath the words' careful enunciation. I never expected to meet Fay's obsession. I never expected to face the boogie-man my worry, or envy, created. My eyes water and my brain hurts, but I force my eyes open to watch the Regent stride to Fay's side. He is dressed in a suit the color of red roses cut strangely in the lapels, cuffs and tails to remind me of an antiquated style popular a century earlier in my world. The red suit sways in the mirrors surrounding me as he offers a white-gloved hand to Fay, who accepts the Regent's help to sit at the far end of the glass table.
The Regent grins at me. I feel like prey.
“They are an incredible kind of creature, Fay. Yet his kind is cursed and tainted. They're cunning and sly. His is a most dangerous kin, and my duties demand that I keep a close watch upon them.”
Fay regards me. I see features of suspicion crease her forehead. I sigh. I recognize the motivation behind the Regent's talk. This is no courtroom meant to judge the merits of mankind. I know what the Regent wants, and I have always known that I am powerless to keep it from him. I remain silent and again fail to return Fay's stare.
“You must have questioned his motivations at some time, Fay.” The Regent continues. “Man always wants something. He does nothing for simple charity. Man is a possessive lot. They are envious, jealous creatures. He is no exception. His sickness must hide it from you. Your heart is too trusting, too sympathetic. But I know how to see through any disguise. I know how to recognize mankind's intent. Honestly, Fay, I didn't think you would be so naive as to have never asked him his real motivations.”
Fay's lips tremble. “I only asked him to come with me. He is my charm. I could never have found those pieces you left behind for me without his help.”
The Regent nods, his eyes are hard as stone. “His is a clever and dangerous kind.”
Fay looks to me for any defense against the Regent's implications. Yet I cannot meet her gaze, and I remain silent.
“I suspect that one is filled with motivation,” the Regent's words are a hiss as he points to me. “I gave him plenty of chances to turn away, Fay. Were he not so dangerous, I would think it honorable, the way he has plowed through thorns for you, the way he has suffered such cold, the way he has faced such discomfort in search for your mirror's pieces. He never complained. He never reminded you that his is a mortal kind, that his hurts can so quickly, so easily turn lethal. Some reason, some purpose, drove him through every discomfort I placed in his path.
“I thought he would relent,” continues the Regent. “I thought he would suffer enough and leave you so that, finally, the two of us could be together. Did you not think that his kind might attract so much attention that I could not come to you? But he never left your side, Fay. No matter where I hid pieces of shard, he kept pushing forward. Of course he has a motivation he has not told you. Do you not now finally suspect what it is? No creature would suffer such hurt for simple charity.”
I feel Fay's stare burning on my bald, downcast head. I peek furtively at her and see the light of her halos fade. My heart lumps in my throat. I have no courage nor confidence with which to defend myself against the Regent.
“Ask him, Fay,” whispers the Regent. “Ask him what he really wanted.”
“Look at me.” Fay's voice rises. “Look at me and tell me what you wanted, Adam.”
I finally summon the courage to look at Fay. I hardly recognize her features. Her halos have disappeared. Her silver hair coils like small snakes. Her lips have retreated, and her teeth are sharp. Fire burns in Fay's copper eyes. Her fingernails have stretched into claws. My courage wavers. The Regent has turned me into a stranger to Fay, and now the Regent threatens to turn me into a monster.
I don't want to answer. I want to sob. Pain screams from within my skull.
“Tell me!” Fay shouts.
I see how the Regent smiles.
“I wanted you, Fay.” I whisper. “I wanted you.”
Fay's lips again cover her teeth. Her hair settles. Her copper eyes no longer burn. But her halos do not return to spin and glow.
My head throbs. I swoon. My exhaustion pulls at my shoulders, and I wish Fay would regard me as an enemy instead of a stranger. It is too cruel to think of myself as a stranger after all I have seen with Fay. The Regent proves himself more wicked than even I imagined. He did not trick Fay into hating me. He tricked Fay into pitying me.
“I am so sorry, Adam.” Fay sighs.
The Regent says nothing more. He only smiles.
“I didn't know, Adam.”
I shake my hurting head. “Of course you did, Fay.”
The Regent's smile vanishes and he peers at me. “You see, Fay. His is such an envious kind. So cunning. So clever. Even now, he tries to shape your thoughts.”
Fay looks at me one more time, her eyes again asking for defense. I have none. My ailing face surrounds me throughout the room's reflections, and I close my eyes.
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Glass Desires Page 8
