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

the mirrors that looked out at the night outside. I did look odd, rumpled and flushed, as though I’d sprinted a long distance with some kind of…

“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

He helped me back to my room as my throat began to ache worse. As I tucked my legs under the comforter, I handed him the translated spellbook.

“Page five, top right,” I said. “Put them over each door to the house and each window that can open. Then turn off that goddamn loudspeaker.”

My eyes were drooping before he even left the room, but I saw a flutter of navy enter as Adrian left. Warmth settled down next to me and tugged me to sleep.

XXIII

I woke to Toto’s nose in my face, damp and searching. Behind him was Indigo, still curled atop the comforter, his eyes on the ceiling as though he thought he could find constellations through the wood.

“Have you fed him?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Toto,” I said, lifting the cat to face Indigo. “Have you fed him?”

“Oh, Ginger put out some cat food and water. The fridge even intuited what brand he usually eats.” He set Toto on the ground and the cat padded out the door, tail in the air.

“Nothing beats a magic fridge,” I replied, and couldn’t find words for anything else. What was I supposed to say? Any mention of Cecelia would have Indigo apologizing again, and as much as I appreciated the kindness, it would be misplaced.

Talking about anything else, though, would be worse, because it would lead to questions like—

“Were you telling the truth?” he asked at last. “The other day?”

It was excruciating to formulate an answer. Of course I’d been telling the truth, but what did he want me to say? No? He was giving me a chance to back out, to continue to avoid him like I’d been doing. He could have been something else altogether—could have repeated my words back to me, could have shouted until I couldn’t help telling the truth, but here was kindness. Here was the permission to step away, if I needed it. This was his kind heart, although the freedom to back away was terrifying.

“Yeah,” I said. “Vivi goes away when you’re nearby.”

I didn’t want to say what I was thinking: Cecelia clearly doesn’t disappear when I’m near you.

“Cecelia disappears when you’re near me, too,” he said, and there was no fear in his tone. He looked a little anxious, a little unsure, but from the way he looked at my throat, I knew it was because he wasn’t sure how much I blamed him for the pain his sister had caused me.

I snorted. “Clearly, she doesn’t.”

“Not yesterday,” he agreed. “But usually. I don’t know what happened yesterday, but none of it was typical.”

There was nothing I could say to that. Everything felt like too much—the comforter felt too soft, my heart beat too loudly, and the smell of the burned forest that had sunk itself into his clothes was much stronger than it should have been.

Fortunately, Indigo was much better with this kind of thing than I was.

It was the most natural thing in the world, but when he kissed me, the world went sideways for a moment. Maybe it was because I’d nearly died earlier that day, or maybe it was because this was the first person I’d met who understood my connection to magic, but it just felt right to be there with him, our shoulders pressed together. His thumb traced my jaw with heartbreaking softness.

“So,” he breathed at last, his forehead against mine.

“So,” I said, and dragged my thumb across his collarbone.

“So,” said a voice from the doorway. Indigo smiled, oddly leisurely, and glanced over his shoulder. Adrian had arrived at the most inopportune time.

“We’re busy,” Indigo told him. “Come back later.”

Adrian didn’t budge. “You’re needed down in the den for a house meeting. And Ginger and Lilac owe me five bucks each.”

I finally sat up, although I did my best to avoid giving Adrian the satisfaction of seeing me embarrassed.

“Why do they owe you—” I started, but Adrian slipped away before I could finish the question.

Indigo sat up and pulled his navy coat off, straightening his rumpled shirt and rebuttoning it where it had fallen open. Now that I could stare without having to make excuses, I did. He shot a brief smile up at me, ecstatic for a moment.

“I’m glad we got that out of the way,” he said.

“You make it sound like a trial.” I fiddled with the strings of my hoodie as I waited for him to finish straightening his shirt out.

“Not at all. I just mean I know where we stand, so I can spend more time with you without having to make excuses.” Another smile, just as brilliant as the last.

He offered me a hand and we headed down to the den, where things were about to get a lot more complicated.

An envelope sat in the middle of the table, pale shimmering green with a red wax seal on it. Even Ginger looked afraid to touch it.

Nuisances, the note read on its front. It was not written in Amaranth’s hand, but the paper was identical. Upon closer examination, I realized the wax seal was also different—the same red wax, but a different symbol. This one read RC, probably symbolic of Robin College.

I took the envelope and slid my finger between the wax and the paper. I unfolded the note against the table and then leaned away, leaving it for someone else to read as I paced behind the sofa.

Were Amaranth and Mint so close that they’d use the same stationary? Or was Amaranth part of Robin College in some regard? Was he monitoring us to see if we were gaming the system, and if so, did accepting his help count as a violation of the rules? Did—

“Nuisances,” Adrian began. “Your next test is tonight. Prepare yourselves.”

That wasn’t a good sign. Among everything else happening, I wasn’t sure I could stand taking another one of