by Erin Johnson
Francis scoffed. "History is written by the victors, let us remember."
Hank acknowledged him with a nod. "Together the kingdoms banished the monsters to the Badlands, sending them there with magic portal mirrors. They then broke the mirrors, preventing the monsters from using the portals to return. The leaders agreed to lose the location of the Badlands and to outlaw magic mirrors to prevent anyone from going there." Hank lifted his brows. "Though, we now know the pirates found the Badlands anyway, as has Horace's army, and that it's an island."
I folded my arms. "Why would they keep the location secret? Wouldn't they want to mark it on a map with a skull and crossbones so no one ever went there by mistake?" I pictured sailing through monster-infested seas, unawares, and shivered.
Hank frowned. "I never thought of that. Maybe so the kingdoms could put it behind them?"
"Most of us who lived through that time don't like to talk about it," Annie added. "It was turbulent and dangerous and there's peace now. No one wants to rock the boat."
Hank paced. "We thought Horace had the last set of mirrors in existence, but if this is one, it explains how someone might have gotten up here. And down again, after killing Eddy Kinn and lighting the fire."
Amelia lifted her brows. "Someone might really be trying to frame the vampires—making it appear they flew down when really they used the mirror."
Hank frowned. "Maybe. But why break it? These are incredibly rare. And where would it have come from in the first place?"
I cleared my throat. "Maybe not that rare. It seems magic mirrors were made here, in Wee Ferngroveshire. Maybe some townspeople hid some that should've been destroyed? Did anyone else notice that memorial to the destroyed mirror shop?"
I got more blank stares.
Minutes later we stood at the gap between trim, clapboard-sided buildings. I walked up to the wall of the alley and tapped the plaque. "See?" I ran a finger along the raised words as I read, "Site of the Great Magical Mirror Shoppe." I swept an arm wide at the twisted wreck of charred wooden beams and rubble.
Maple swallowed. She looked at me with wide eyes and brows lifted in the center. "Imogen," she said slowly. "There's nothing there."
My friends shifted uneasily, while Hank peered at the wall in the general area of the plaque, nose inches away.
Rhonda planted her hands on her hips. "Either Imogen's playing an extremely lame practical joke…" She waited for me to shout "gotcha!" and when I didn't, continued, "…or someone's spelled it, so that she's the only one who can see it."
"Who would—" Maple stopped short and looked down, toeing a clump of snow.
I swallowed, my throat dry. "Horace. Horace would do something like this. But why?" I frowned, my body feeling heavy and weary. A thought occurred to me. "Or maybe not Horace." I'd never gotten an answer from Junie. "I saw the woman who owns the Heart Witch casting a spell over it, yesterday when we first arrived. If anyone knows anything, it'll be her."
We all walked around the town square to the witch's shop. While the mob had dispersed, a few villagers gathered in the square as workers finished decorating the stage and the tree for the lighting ceremony happening after sunset. Those we passed glanced wide-eyed at Francis, then dropped their gazes and gave us a wide berth.
When we got to Junie's place, I rang the little iron cat bell—a high, bright sound. Then I tried the door handle—locked. I knocked and waited, while Wiley cupped his hands over his eyes and peered in the windows, but the sheer curtains were still drawn.
"She's not here."
"Convenient," Iggy remarked.
Hank licked his lips. "Here's what we know. Someone used a magic mirror to get to the top of the tower, and back down again after committing murder and lighting the fire. Since magic mirrors come in pairs, if we can find who has the other mirror, we may find our culprit—or at least get more information."
I nodded.
"We also think Junie Kingston might know about these mirrors. So maybe we should split up—look for the mirror or Junie—and then meet back up at the inn, in say… an hour?"
We murmured our agreement and split off.
20
The Dress Shop
Rhonda and Francis went back to the church, while Maple, Wiley, and Cat decided to check around the town square. Annie and Yann searched the alleys and winding cobblestone back streets, and Amelia announced she would be taking Sam ice skating to cheer him up. No one opposed that, as Sam wasn't in much shape to deal with murders and mysteries. His face had a faint purple tinge in a couple of spots, all that remained of his bruises, thanks to the magical healing of the maids and the doctor Amelia had called on last night. But it was his spirit that continued to suffer, and he went off with Amelia wordlessly.
Hank and I exchanged glances after watching Sam shuffle off with Amelia's arm around his shoulders.
"Poor Sam." I clicked my tongue. "Of all the people it had to happen to—why would someone hurt sweet, innocent little Sam?"
Hank let out a disgusted sigh. "Because the sweet and innocent are the easiest to hurt."
I huffed. "Yeah, well, not with us around."
"I will burn them," Iggy chimed in. "Their bones to ash."
"Alrighty, buddy, that was a level three to an eleven, so let's tone it down a little." But after Hank had turned, I lifted Iggy up and mouthed, "I may take you up on that."
I strode up beside Hank, walking quickly to keep up with his long legs. "I think we should check out the dressmaker's. Something about Lady Cordelia's explanation just does not sit well with me. Let's make sure she was actually in there."
Hank nodded. "Good idea. We can look for the mirror's twin, too."
When we got to the paneled glass door to the dress shop, the sign in the glass read Closed.
"Darn."
Hank peered through one of the panes of the door. "Someone's in there." He lifted a brow at me. "And they were open earlier?"
I nodded.
"C'mon." He turned the knob and found it unlocked, then held it open for me.
The woman behind the counter startled and poked herself in the finger with a pin. "Ow." She stuck it in her mouth and sucked on it.
"Sorry." I winced.
She looked up, her face pale, with deep bags under her eyes. "I—I must've forgotten to lock the door. We're closed."
Hank stepped in behind me and flashed her a charming, bright smile. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I need some last-minute Bruma presents for my family—the royal family of the Water Kingdom?"
"Name dropper," I muttered out of the corner of my mouth. Hank stifled a chuckle. He held a fist to his mouth and pretended to cough.
The thin woman with the frazzled brown bush of hair blinked rapidly, then gulped. "I—you're Prince Harry? They said you were in town."
Hank swept forward and leaned an elbow on the counter across from the woman, crossing his ankles. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I'd be forever grateful if you could assist us?" He turned from her to look at me. "Imogen, why don't you look around—maybe try some things on while I chat with—"
He held out his hand and she hesitated, then gave him hers. They shook. "Minette."
"Ah. I'll chat with Minette, and as I have a lot of gold to spend on gifts, we may be a while. I don't want you to be bored." He lifted his brows.
I had a hard time hiding my smile. What a charmer he could be. "Of course. You take your time, I'll keep myself busy." I wandered at a casual pace over to a wall of floor-to-ceiling shelves with bolts of fabric lying horizontally over all of them. I fingered a green silk fabric, and glanced back over my shoulder.
Minette smoothed her frizzy hair back, her sunken eyes watery and her lips drawn tight. She moved a stack of fabric to the side. Her jerky movements toppled it, and she scrambled to restack them, ignoring Hank's offers to help. With trembling hands, she then returned some silver shears to her apron pocket. She dipped behind the counter and shoved a book of fabric samples at Hank for him to peruse. Behind her, several antiqu
e black sewing machines whirred away, magically sewing on their own. My boot heels thunked over the gleaming wooden floor as I moved to a rack of readymade dresses and picked several out at random. I then stepped into the single dressing area, and pulled the green velvet curtain around the curved brass rod to give myself some privacy. I set Iggy's lantern on a low wooden stool inside. Even without him, I'd have had plenty of light to see by with the window set high up in the wall.
I pointed. "That's where our resident perv, Dylan Hodder, watched Lady Cordelia from."
Iggy nodded. "And Pandora claimed to be outside the curtain the whole time."
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror and smoothed my red curtain of bangs.
"Ahem. Murder to solve." Iggy opened his eyes wide.
"Right." I examined the mirror. It had a simple silver frame, nothing like the elaborate gold one of the magic mirror.
"Well?"
I turned to Iggy and shook my head. "Not magical." It didn't glow—not even a little. "Just a regular mirror. I guess Lady Cordelia was telling the truth—about being in here at the time of Eddy Kinn's murder, at least." I shrugged. "Maybe someone really is trying to frame the vampires." I stayed in the dressing room a minute longer, rattling the hangers now and then to keep up the ruse of trying on dresses.
Then I pulled back the curtain and stepped out, just as Hank and Minette entered from a doorway behind the counter.
"Thanks so much." Hank chuckled, as if at himself. "With as many samples as you have on the floor, you'd think I could pick one, but I appreciate seeing your back room and the partial bolts."
Ah, nice going. Did he find anything back there?
Minette resumed her place behind the counter and her eyes flickered toward me.
"So," Hank continued. "I'd like to get seven stockings made for my nieces and nephews. Is it okay if I come by later to pick them up?"
She gulped. "I'll need until tomorrow."
Hank nodded. "No problem."
After they discussed the store's hours and I let Hank know that none of the dresses were quite right, we thanked Minette and left.
"Well?"
Hank shook his head. "Nothing in the back room. How about you?"
I shook my head. "The changing room had a normal mirror in it."
He nodded. "She's definitely hiding something though."
"Oh, yeah." Iggy sniffed. "She seemed wigged out."
We walked on in thoughtful silence for a ways. Some black crows cawed and circled overhead in the chilly, clear sky.
"You really bought some presents. You think we'll still be here tomorrow to pick them up?" I'd hoped heading back to Bijou Mer would be an option.
We walked the shoveled stone path along the mostly closed storefronts. "My guards reported that the monster vine is still growing, fast as ever. They've tried burning it back, but it regenerates too quickly. We need to get word out for reinforcements."
I nodded. "So the way to London is blocked."
"And we could go back to Bijou Mer, but…."
I lifted a brow.
Hank paused and turned to me. "We're in another kingdom. I'm totally out of my jurisdiction and have no right to be investigating these deaths, but it doesn't seem right to let the murders go unsolved. And these villagers seem oddly keen to turn a blind eye to any digging into the truth."
I nodded my agreement.
"But even beyond the murders…." Hank sighed. "This thing with the mirrors is serious. We thought they were all destroyed. Everyone's thought that, for decades. And in the last few months, we've come across two different ones? Something's going on—something bigger. And I think it's tied to Horace. If you're all right with it… I'd like to stay until we figure this out."
I took a deep breath and mulled it over. I had a strong pull to just leave and head back to beautiful, relatively safe Bijou Mer. But I saw his point, too. "And it's not like we came here by accident. Horace diverted us here. There's some reason for it, and if we leave now, before discovering what that is, he’ll probably just pop up again some other time."
Hank nodded. "I'm sorry. This is the worst Bruma ever. And I wanted you to have such a good one."
I smiled and my face grew warm. "Well, it's also my only Bruma. So it's the best, too." I shrugged. "Besides—we've been ice skating, kissed under the mistletoe…."
Hank turned pink.
"It hasn't been all bad."
I lifted my face as Hank leaned down for a kiss.
"I'm still here!" Iggy shrieked. "Literally, right between you!"
We jumped apart and I giggled.
"Oh, it's funny to you? I know you might think the world disappears when you give each other googly eyes, but no. We're all still here—horrified and traumatized."
I rolled my eyes. "We're not that bad, Iggy." I cocked my head to the side. "Though, I did kinda forget you were there. Sorry."
He huffed.
"Hey, I just thought of something." I led the way around the next corner to the alley than ran behind the dress shop and the Heart Witch a couple of doors down. "Let's try Junie's back door, just in case she's doing a reading."
I knocked and knocked, but Junie never answered. Either she wasn't there, or she was hiding. Somehow, I couldn't picture her hiding from me. I hoped the old woman was all right.
I sighed. Where could we look next? What if Lady Cordelia was right, and someone had tried to frame her—who would have the motive?
I frowned as a thought occurred to me. "What about Ria Kapoor?"
Hank lifted a thick brow.
"I'm just thinking out loud. She was there at the Bruma Eve Party."
"So was half the village," Iggy chimed in.
"Right. But right before the fireworks went off and we all rushed outside, I saw her standing next to the tray of enchanted ice cubes that were knocked into the cauldron. Well, she and Dylan. She easily could have knocked them in and no one would have noticed in the mad rush to get outside."
"And Eddy?" Hank asked.
"She was lurking behind a tree in the square, glaring at Pandora and Beau, minutes before the fire was set."
"What would her motive be?" Hank paced past some crates.
I took a deep breath, thinking. "Lady Cordelia thinks that Ria only came to the Bruma party to steal Beau away from Pandora. And she has been shooting daggers at Pandora every time I see her—she certainly seems jealous." I nodded, my theory starting to come together. "Lady Cordelia thought that if her true identity was revealed, Beau's parents would call off the courtship and it would ruin Pandora's chances."
"Right." Hank paused his steps and nodded. "Turns out they love that she's a vampire, but maybe Ria thought the same thing. Maybe she thought a death would ruin the party and cast disgrace over Pandora. When it didn't, she framed Lady Cordelia for a murder and to expose her as a vampire." He frowned. "But how would she have known Cordelia's secret?"
"She's staying at the mansion, too, right?"
Hank nodded.
"Maybe she found out Lady Cordelia's while there—overheard or saw something—and decided to capitalize on it."
"Maybe." Hank glanced at his wristwatch. "We have just enough time to go check at the mansion before we're supposed to meet up with the others."
I lifted my brows. "Like, to interrogate Ria… or sneak into her room?"
Hank lifted his palms. "Both?"
All right, we were doing this, apparently. We started off down the alleyway again, and about halfway between the Heart Witch and the dress shop, a gleam caught my eye. I stooped and lifted the glowing green shard of glass from under a crumpled wrapper. I held it up and saw my own blue eye reflected in it.
"Is it…?"
I stood and nodded at Hank. "A piece of magic mirror." I tucked the glass into my coat pocket and we moved on. I wondered—had the culprit just passed that way? Or, since the shard lay between the shops, did Minette or Junie possess the mirror's twin?
21
Governor's Mansion
> We entered the foyer of the mansion unnoticed, as far as I could tell. As Hank was a guest there, and royalty, he didn't need to be formally greeted, and simply let us in. We crept up the carpeted stairs that swept up to the gallery above. At the top, I followed Hank to the left.
"Where's your room?" I asked, out of curiosity.
"Keep it in your pants." Iggy clicked his tongue.
"Oh my—not like that." I rolled my eyes, my cheeks burning as Hank threw a grin over his shoulder. "I was just wondering, geez."
"My room's to the right of the stairs." He lifted his brows at me, his blue eyes shining. "Which is why it'll seem quite odd if we're caught on this side of the hall."
I winked and crouched low, staying out of the light cast by the wall sconces.
"Seriously? Won't it look more suspicious if you're being a creeper on top of it?"
I cleared my throat and straightened up. Iggy had a point.
Hank stopped in front of a wood-paneled door that looked just like all the others. He put his ear to it and listened for a minute. Then he knocked.
"Why are you knocking?" I hissed.
"Would you rather find out she's in there after we break in?" Hank whispered back, with a wink.
"Good point, good point." Wow. I was not very good as sneaking or breaking in.
Luckily, no answer came, even after Hank tried again.
"She's not here."
"Or she's asleep," Hank said.
"Or she's antisocial and doesn't want to talk to you," Iggy said.
My stomach twisted. So much could go wrong here. Hank gripped the doorknob and turned—it stopped immediately. He looked left and right, then opened his other palm over it. Magically, the lock clicked and the door pushed open. We crowded into Ria's room, then locked it behind us.
"Okay. So we're looking for a magic mirror, or some evidence that she was involved in these murders."
"Right," Iggy agreed. "Like plastic vampire teeth she could have used to make the bite marks on the victims' necks to frame Francis and Lady Cordelia."
