by M. E. Eadie
***
Ofelia and the boys carried Grizzelda up to her room. She lay sound asleep on her canopy bed, a blissful expression on her face, arms folded over her chest, eyes closed in peaceful repose. Colin took the opportunity to look around his aunt’s room. He hoped to find something that would explain her late-night, sobbing conversations.
The only thing that caught his attention was the large full-length oval mirror, pivoted between two vertical supports. The legs were carved in the shape of two big snake heads that lay flat on the floor, their eyes--four green crystals--glimmering at him. Although the eyes were cold and lifeless, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him from within them. The mirror had the usual silver, reflective quality, yet this one was markedly different. There was a deep, dark tinge to it, suggesting a great depth. He felt something shift restlessly in its depth and immediately wanted out of the room. He also noticed something peculiar on the bed stand: a little rotund doll, complete with kilt and sporran. The only thing lacking was bagpipes. Ofelia too, stopped to regard the doll. It looked surprisingly like Marcus.
“Can you make it sing,” asked Colin abruptly, “something soft, like a lullaby?”
“Can, I make it sing?” said Ofelia considering the question. “I suppose I can give it a try, but why would you want me to do that?”
“Maybe Grizzelda would like it. Don’t you think it looks a lot like Marcus?”
“Colin, it’s just a doll, but if you wish.”
Ofelia focused on the little doll, but after a brief moment broke off her concentration and staggered away. Colin put out an arm to steady her. Ofelia’s eyes were wide with shock.
“What’s the matter?” asked Colin.
“Nothing, nothing,” said Ofelia a little too quickly to assuage Colin’s fears about the doll. “For some reason, I can’t make the doll sing. We need to leave this room, now! Don’t worry your aunt will be all right.”
Ofelia ushered him quickly out of the room, but all Colin could think of was the mirror and the doll, the doll that looked too much like Marcus Aurelius Dundas. He also had the feeling that Ofelia knew the real reason why they retreated from the room so quickly.
“You go on, now,” said Ofelia shutting the door behind her. “I have some things to do.”
Halfway down the stairs he was struck by the coincidences that surrounded Ofelia, how she fit right in with the rest of the family with her extrasensory abilities, and how she ended up applying for the job where those abilities wouldn’t be considered different. How many people out there were extraordinary? Either there were a lot, or Ofelia coming to work at Horwood House was no coincidence at all. And she knew, but wasn’t saying, why the doll couldn’t sing. He felt it. And how did she know about the root? For that matter, how did Rhea’s Grandma know about it? How did she get it? The only way both of them could have known was if they had been Inbetween. They knew a lot more than they were willing to share. Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. The idea of not being able to trust Ofelia sent shivers through him.
