The Crumpled Mirror by Elizabeth Loea (story books for 5 year olds txt) 📗

also the matter of the rain. Lilac grabbed me to keep herself on the board and I clutched the mark, which seemed to keep me pretty steady.

In front of us, a strike of lightning flashed. The air smelled like ozone. Another strike, and another.

“Go,” Lilac hissed in my ear.

I pushed the board forward, hoping against hope that it had no real speed limit, and the lightning barely missed my shoulder as we sped through the cluster of strikes. Lilac shrieked and whooped behind me, but didn’t stretch out her fingers toward the bolts as they materialized and disappeared.

It was a miracle we got to tree level without being struck. Maybe, if we were still inside the house, the magic protected us. Maybe the storm just didn’t want us dead. Maybe the board’s charm wards off lightning. Who knows?

We tumbled to the grass as soon as we got near the greenhouse windows, the driftwood turning a lazy circle above us. The storm still raged and my hands had started to freeze, but I couldn’t stop laughing. Neither could Lilac.

“This is it,” she said. “This is what it’s all for.”

“Dangerous gambles?”

“Beauty,” she breathed, and a zigzag of light crossed the sky above us. “It’s for beauty.”

The door to the greenhouse door swung open with a creak, almost inaudible in the heavy rain. I twisted to see who it was. Grass was plastered to my shoulders and my forehead, twigs and flowers battered in my hair. I’d lost a shoe somewhere along the way and I didn’t want to look for it. At my side, Lilac was equally presentable.

And we were both grinning wider than we ever had before.

“Clementine,” Indigo said from where he leaned against the doorway. “Did I miss the fun?”

XII

It took no time at all to find towels—warm towels—in a nearby bathroom. Indigo trailed us the whole time, silently judging us as the driftwood nudged at his back. It seemed to have a life of its own at this point. Next time I got my hands on a marker, I’d have to draw a little face on it.

I kicked off my remaining shoe near the main entrance so I wouldn’t forget it on the way home (although considering that I could fly now, I had decided that I would never walk again if I could help it, and as such, I wouldn’t need shoes).

Indigo faced us as we stood in the entry hall, framed by the giant vase of blue poppies. Vivi had disappeared, but Indigo was still there to judge us.

“What were you thinking?” he started. “No, wait, I know what you were thinking. ‘I’m just going to do this spell some random stranger wrote down for me and see what happens,’ you thought. And then you did. What if it hadn’t worked?”

I shrugged. “Worth the risk.”

“The risk is your life.”

“I know the risk,” I told him. “And I know what I said.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

As if I didn’t know that already. There was little to gain and so much to lose in doing magic wrong. And yet...even if everything else was gone, even if I died, at least I would have had an adventure first.

That’s all anyone can hope for, right?

Indigo shook his head. “I’m not going to stop you, but I wish you’d be more careful.”

“I probably won’t, but thank you.”

Lilac looked from him to me and back again. “That was the most boring fight I’ve ever seen between any couple ever.”

“We’re not—” I started.

“I’m not—” Indigo added.

We looked at each other. Blushed. Looked away.

Away from the sound of rainfall we’d heard in the greenhouse, the silence was deafening. Lilac’s chuckle made it worse.

“Anyway,” she said, “what the hell is this place?”

“The Hekataion,” Indigo said. “Mint told me when I showed up tonight. He said he liked the poppies you brought.”

“We didn’t bring any poppies,” I said.

Vivi had recoiled from them. There had been too many for it to be an accident…

This was getting difficult.

Indigo gestured around. “The Hekataion is sort of a crossroads. Midway between the clearing and the school, or the world the school inhabits. That’s why there’s weird weather in some spots. It’s a liminal space full of liminal spaces.”

“What’s it for?” I asked.

“Us. It houses magicians while they test, but it’s only needed once year out of every decade. We stay here to focus on our studies.”

“Stay here? But I have—” I cut myself off. This was more important than school, but I still had to go, didn’t I? Or, at least, I had to go until winter break started, which was in a week.

An hour later, Ginger and Adrian found their way to the house, and three became five. I couldn’t help but appreciate their louder temperaments, even though they were two of the most disagreeable people I’d ever met.

We crowded around the fireplace in the upstairs den. “Den” is a minimizing word for the room; like the rest of the place, it was grand and elegant, with books stacked on the hearth and the end tables and pillows piled on the couches. The high ceiling allowed for a second floor that was mostly a loft. A huge stained-glass window covered one wall, adorned with, of course. Through it was a horizon I had never seen before, jagged mountains scraping the sky. The whole room smelled sweet but not saccharine, like almonds and the redwood forest back home.

Lilac and I sat with our backs to the fire so that our clothes would dry faster. She’d fallen asleep with her head propped on her hand. I kept a close eye on her to make sure she wouldn’t fall backward against the grate in front of the fire.

I glanced at Indigo, but I couldn’t look at him for long. What Lilac had said earlier was getting to me, and from his hesitant glance, it had probably stuck with him, too.

Adrian wasn’t much better, and Ginger was impossible. Adrian kept his eyes on Lilac, occasionally turning his gaze to smile as smugly