Jacinta Crow was saying that she thought I was weird. Funny, I thought the same thing about her, and I’m sure I was not the only one. Her blonde hair was not really blonde at all, but almost white, like an old lady’s hair. She had a monotone way of speaking, more like a boy’s voice than a girl’s, and she kept herself to herself. No-one expected that she and Toril would become very good friends. Some had even sniggered that Toril chose Jacinta because ‘she made her look good.’
Beth O’Neill, on the other hand, seemed to hold the balance of power between the two girls. She seemed to be the voice of reason and sanity amongst the occult fantasies of Toril, and the deadness of Jacinta’s cold blue eyes, that would betray not a single emotion.
When I asked how she had ended up becoming such a close friend with them, Beth had half-joked one time with me on how “You can’t ever know what Jacinta is thinking, and you sure don’t want to know what Toril is thinking.”
I hoped that Beth would ensure the two girls turned back, and that Troy could keep Alix at bay. I wouldn’t mind Beth and Troy coming in though, weirdly enough. Though for my own peace of mind, I’d have to make sure that whatever in the fridge, was no longer there.
Alix Andrews was already 6’1” tall, and played for the county rugby team. Right now, he was in front of the door to the wood-cabin. Like I was seven again, I hid under the bed sheets. My nerves had been tested enough for one night. I really could do without this.
Over by my dressing table, the drawer started to push itself open. The Mirror which Nan had given me glistened slightly, and an eerie blue glow reflected from the glass. My eyes peeked over the top of the bed sheet, but I dare not move an inch. I still didn’t really know what powers the Mirror had, though Nan, whose health had deteriorated rapidly in the months following her giving me the Mirror, told me as much as she could, or dared to.
I lay in my bed, half-asleep, half-awake, but oblivious to the goings on outside in the woods. Dreamily, I thought back to the last time that Nan and I had had a meaningful conversation. Perhaps the blue haze from the Mirror affected me in the same way that it did to Nan.
One night, she came into my room. Looking around, she surveyed my room with her sharp eyes. “Pink on white walls, Milly. About time you updated the look, I think. I keep white roses in my room every day, you know. Keeps the place fresh. You ought to try it sometime.”
“I like it the way it is, Nan,” I said politely.
“Want some chocolate?”
“Not right now. Thanks, though.”
“We all grow up eventually, Milly.”
I smiled at my godmother. “Nan, you don’t usually come in here.”
“Normally, I wouldn’t come in here. A young girl’s bedroom is her sanctuary, after all. Remember I told you that, Milly.”
“Yes Nan, I’ll remember, I promise.”
“Do you have it safe? The Mirror?”
“I do. It’s in that drawer over there. I have it locked up and everything.”
“I rather doubt a simple locked drawer would keep it from mischief. You’re sure it’s there?”
“Yes Nan,” I said, almost harshly. I checked it every night. It was always there.
Nan just tapped her forefinger against the drawer. To my amazement, I heard the locking mechanism simply un-click, and the drawer slid open.
“I’m proud of you, Romilly. However, I’m truly sorry to have brought this on you.”
Brought what on me, exactly?
Nan continued. “The fact is, you’re innocence personified. I could not, would not entrust this to anyone else.”
“Nan, I really don’t understand. Just what is the deal with this Mirror of yours?”
“Not mine. Yours. So pick it up.”
“I don’t want to Nan. In fact, I’m happy for it to stay over there.”
“You must understand that I have passed it to you, so I can no longer handle it. I’m so, so sorry, my dear child.”
How could I refuse her? Impulsively, I grabbed the Mirror and felt something pass through me. My hands, which had been just a little marked from a year earlier, started to deepen in colour, in patches on my skin. Soon, blotches of purple appeared around my wrist and knuckles.
I looked up at the old lady. “Nan, what is happening to me?”
“You are starting to bear the Mark, Milly.”
“I really don’t understand, Nan.”
Sitting next to me, Nan pointed at the Mirror. “Looks so innocent, doesn’t it? And yet, evil can be found in the most innocent of things, don’t you think so, Milly?”
I supposed so. I had no idea. I did think that Mum would be even more cross with me than usual. She was already sore with Nan over the ‘mysterious marking’s that appeared on my hands, just over a year ago, and now they were deepening.
“Milly? Are you listening to me?”
“Well, yes, Nan, of course.” I still really didn’t know what she meant.
I wanted to ask her why I bore these markings. “Nan, am I….cursed, or something? What do these markings mean? Can I ever get rid of them?”
“No and No,” said Nan, confidently. “You are not cursed, and you cannot get rid of the markings. You can hide them though.”
Nan pulled out a very small package and handed it to me.
“You’ll love these, they are very pretty. Go on, open it up.”
I loved presents, but had to consider that Nan’s gifts were bordering on the bizarre of late. The contents were not what I expected.
I had seen them before. “They’re….they’re gloves. Lace gloves,” I said simply.
Nan laughed heartily. “Deary me, what a cold way to describe something so wonderful. Milly, these are magic gloves. They hide your markings, for the most part, and while you wear them, you won’t hurt anybody, and no-one and no thing can ever, ever hurt you.”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone, Nan,” I said.
“Or any thing, I suppose,” Nan added. “I don’t want you to come to any harm either. Now. Do you understand why I gave you the Mirror last year?”
“Honestly? Not really.”
Nan then told me how she read the tea leaves one night, and the reading had scared her to her very soul. The reading said that I would die if I travelled with my parents on holiday, on the occasion of my fifteenth birthday.
“I knew then that I just had to give you the Mirror. After all, I’ve…seen enough of life, Milly. You’re young, with your whole life ahead of you. I want you to enjoy it, and live it to the full, just as I have.”
Nan went on to say that no matter what fuss my Mum kicked up, no matter my father’s insistence that I was still his little girl, that I was not to go on holiday with them. I said that there was no way that Dad would let me stay in Rosewinter on my own, but Nan retorted that staying in the family home, on my own, with the Mirror, was an impossibility.
“You have to take it to Rosewinter then. Whatever horrors you face, I know you’ll be safe there.”
Rosewinter? The wood-cabin? The place of the bloodied apples and where Nan had a heart attack? Safe??
“It’s probably collapsed by now, Nan. I don’t think Dad’s had the time to do much with it of late.”
Nan told me that I had to convince my father to do the place up, if that was the case.
“Don’t you take no for an answer, Milly, no matter what your father says.”
“Sure thing, Nan.”
Remember that a young girl’s bedroom is her sanctuary. Remember that, Milly.
Remember –
“Hey! Winter! Open the door!”
My thoughts were broken by the nasal tone of Alix Andrews.
Remember that a young girl’s bedroom is her sanctuary. Remember that, Milly.
I was still hiding under the sheets. Surely, that stupid boy wouldn’t have the nerve to break in here.
This was ridiculous. Why should I hide in fear? It’s those outside who are causing the problem. I wanted to make them feel fear. In this state
of mind, I flipped from scared to fearless in a second.
I concentrated hard. I tried to make my thoughts as one – disciplined and focussed. But it was all too difficult. This ability was new to me. I might be powerless to stop Alix Andrews breaking in, but I could make him leave.
I sat up in bed, and, swinging my legs around, placed my feet on the floor.
“Open up, little piggy!”
Alix was laughing hard. His blonde, curly hair, bobbed around his head. With that shock of hair and manic smile, I thought that, from what I could see of him through the cracks in the wooden door, he looked like some crazy clown. That’s an image I didn’t like at all.
Another thought entered my head. Why wasn’t Troy, reasonable, dependable Troy, doing something to stop Alix? Or even one of the girls? Surely they all knew what he was doing was wrong.
“Little piggy!” guffawed Alix. “I said….open up!”
Finally, Troy spoke up. “Alix, leave it. Let’s go. Leave her alone.”
Alix turned to Troy. He had a pained look on his face, and was no longer laughing. “I – I have to get in here Troy. It’s hard to explain, but I just have to. Don’t come any nearer now.”
The temperature dropped so quickly that the girls – Toril, Beth and Jacinta, cupped their shoulders.
“Brrrr!” said Beth. “Where has that come from?”
“I don’t know,” said Toril. “I do think we should get out of here though. Alix! Quit messing around. It’s not safe to go in there.”
Alix ignored Toril, so I focussed my energy on her instead. She was into all things strange, and this experience certainly counted as one of those times. If I could somehow communicate with her, she might be able to stop Alix. I didn’t want him to get hurt, but if he crossed the thresh-hold, I could not be held responsible for what might happen. Though, knowing my luck, I bet that I would be held responsible.
Alix poked his arm through a hole to the side of the door. Sporting a wide grin, he opened the door.
In the night sky, the shadow of Alix looked huge. I imagined that the bears that sometimes roamed the woods, miles away from here, would look similar to him.
I was tall, for a girl, but still much shorter than Alix. If it came to blows, I doubted I stop Alix doing whatever he wanted to do to.
“Alix! You get back here now! I’m not even kidding!” shouted Troy.
He started to run Rosewinter but Toril held him back. She shook her head.
“What the- Toril! Let go, will you?”
“No. No, damn you, wait!” Toril kept a vice-like grip on Troy’s arm. “It’s not safe. I’m not sure why, but it just isn’t safe. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”
“But Rom –”
“-will be fine. I can’t say the same for Alix.”
Alix stood just inches from my bedroom door. I had no control over his thoughts. He seemed cold, calculating and – if I stopped to think for just a moment, he was not himself. Alix was a joker, but to do something like this, no, I couldn’t believe my eyes. The prankster we all knew had been replaced by something much more sinister.
Jacinta looked troubled. Toril and Beth asked her to calm down, that Alix was a big boy and would probably be alright. Probably.
“He’ll come out in a minute,” said Toril, through chattering teeth. “At least, he’d better. I’m going home otherwise.”
Jacinta had a very strange look on her face. With her white hair and blue yes, perhaps this was not unusual. Toril just had to know.
“You look spooked, Jay. What’s bothering you?”
Jacinta looked around with her eyes. “I’m not sure this is the place.”
“Whatever do you mean?” asked Toril. “Of course it is. There is only one wood-cabin in the area, and this is it. Look!”
Toril handed Jacinta a piece of paper. It was an internet print-out, and talked about the wood house that had been built on haunted grounds.
“Then there must be some mistake,” said Jacinta, “ because in the picture there are no trees. Look at these huge oaks, either side of the house. They’ve been here maybe a hundred years, if not more. This is not the same place. Maybe there’s another one, though there’s no way to get to it from here.”
“Give me that,” said Toril. Looking at it, she could not understand.
“Another wood-cabin? There;s rumours about such a place in the eastern parts of the Forest. But I was certain this was the one. Is this other place for real? And who lives there?”
Troy and the girls looked around, perplexed. Save for the route which they came by the wood house, all other routes looked pretty much impassable. The forest was very dense from this point onwards.
On the other side of the forest, there was indeed another wood-cabin. There were no lights on, but there was someone inside. The moon shone an accusatory light through the window onto the blade of an axe, which was propped up against the southern wall of the building. This was a wood-cabin which had inexplicably escaped Toril’s research, who was a stickler for detail. Inside, a lone figure gestured wildly, and in my house, Alix copied the gestures precisely, move-for-move.
He was moving towards me, then turned abruptly towards my dresser. “Well then, Rah-me-leeee, what have you got hidden here?”
My powers weren’t anything like Nan’s had been. I could not make the drawer open, and have the Mirror fly into my safekeeping. I could not keep it closed either, because if Alix, with his strong, windmill-like arms decided to open it, how could I stop him?
Then, the answer came to me. Because I had been living on my own for the past two days, there had been no need to wear my lace gloves. I could not hurt anyone because there was no-one to interact with. Old zombie-girl hardly qualified as an interaction for me.
But I couldn’t let Alix take the Mirror, even if he was being forced to do something against his will. I doubted that whatever evil that had drove him to break into my abode could use it, after all, Nan said once it had been bequeathed to another person – me, in this case, that the Mirror would leave a sort of imprint. I have the Mark on my hands, after all.
I could hold the Mirror – but no-one else could, at least, not whilst I was alive, I was reasonably sure of that. Nan must have known her time was coming to an end, because soon after the bequeathal, she passed away.
Keeping my hands ungloved, I rose up from the bed, as Alix unlocked the draw that contained the Mirror. His eyes were only on that, he ignored me completely.
The answer came to me so simply. I knew exactly what I would have to do.
I would have to kill him.
(ii)
The Mirror of Souls
Bequethal
Almost three years had passed since Nan gave me the Mirror, and now, she was no longer with us. I never forgot her, and I often think about her, and wonder what she would be thinking about me.
I remember how freaked out I was when Nan first gave me the innocent looking mirror. Something about it just didn’t feel right for me, and yet, in all the years I knew her, Nan had never hurt me. In fact, I can’t recall me ever having a single crossed word with her. Perhaps, when someone has passed over, you forget all the negative things about them.
Once the Mirror had been passed to me, I put it in my drawer, locked it away and except for checking it on occasion, I chose to pretty much forget about it. I never really believed that it contained souls, though to not believe anything my Nan said felt like a betrayal.
“You still don’t believe me, do you?” said Nan, one time.
“I…I really don’t know, Nan.”
“Well then,” said Nan stiffly, “what you believe or don’t believe is of no consequence to me. But it may well turn out to be a major consequence for you. For everyone. Think about others for once, will you?”
That hurt. I was no heroine, and I wished she had never given me the Mirror, no matter what her reasons were for doing so. In the last year of her life, the closeness that Nan and I experienced, had wavered somewhat.
> We had one more frank conversation before she died.
“You want to ask me, don’t you? So why don’t you?” said Nan, matter-of-factly.
Oh yes. I wanted to ask many things. I wanted to ask why she had given me the Mirror. Why her hair had gone snow white, and how her face went from quite smooth to full of wrinkles. I wanted to ask her why as, the markings on my hands and wrists got deeper and longer in colour, hers had faded.
Most of all I wanted to know what was in my future. So I started with that.
Dark Winter Page 10
