by Carmen Caine
“That sounds too good to be true,” I said skeptically. “The mirrors sound like giant supercomputers. Not something I’d trust all the way. Have they ever been wrong?”
“Not yet,” Rafael conceded with a graceful incline of his head. “But I’m less interested in their predictions than their recollections, more specifically, how the lizard people have enslaved us.”
“Then that means you’re willing to try?” Jareth’s dark eyes lit.
“It serves no purpose,” Rafael replied tightly. “While I could get us in there, we still can’t get out. The Protectors will know the instant we step foot in the Hall. We’ll never make it out the door, and no one can phase shift there, even in the courtyard surrounding the hall. You know this.”
Jareth chuckled. “If you can get us in, Rafael,” he said. “I can get us out and back to Earth.”
The way he said it was final. There was no doubt he was telling the truth. I liked the “back to Earth” part.
“What absurd nonsense is this?” Rafael asked sharply.
Jareth didn’t waste time. “I have tethers,” he simply said.
Apparently, that meant something to Rafael. He drew a startled breath and released it slowly. “Tethers haven’t been seen in over a thousand years!”
“Not true!” Jareth sounded smug. “I’ve used them myself on more than one occasion.”
“What’s a tether?” I asked with a growing sense of excitement.
Rafael didn’t answer, he seemed lost in thought, but Jareth was more than happy to explain, “Tethers are ancient devices the Fae once used to travel through Earth’s portals, what you call fairy circles. Stonehenge and the like.”
Portals sounded promising. “How do they work?” I asked, after all the term “ancient device” brought up images in my mind of medieval torture racks.
“They’re anchored to whatever fairy circle they originated from,” Jareth said, standing up and stretching. “Even a primitive human could operate one.”
I didn’t get a chance to retort as Rafael turned to Jareth suspiciously. “How did you get tethers?” Rafael eyed Jareth pointedly and continued. “I’ve heard whispers the Queens keep a few locked safely in the treasure rooms as ancient artifacts. But most believe the existence of even those tethers are just … rumors.”
Jareth sent him a dark, challenging look. “Ask your father how I got them. And your Inner Circle would probably know as well, I’d imagine.”
This time, Rafael didn’t take the bait. “Tethers would help,” he said instead. “But it would still be dangerous.”
Jareth whistled through his teeth in anticipation and smiled darkly. “At any point, if something went wrong, we could be gone before they could speak through their trions. The tethers mask our destination. They’re untraceable.”
Rafael drew his lips in a thin line and looked at me. “I couldn’t ask such a dangerous thing of Sydney.”
At that, Jareth’s brows knit in confusion. “Pray tell what she has to do with this?”
Rafael’s eyes glittered a little, but he replied gamely enough, “Just how do you think I cracked the security codes? The encryption is written in the blue spectrum, in the second dimension. It’s accessible only to the lizard people or through a human because of their ability to dream. I would have failed without her.”
Jareth held still. A frown formed on his face. “This makes little sense. Why is our encryption classification accessible to everyone else but the Fae? The humans are incapable of causing harm, but … can the same be said of the lizard people? Have they somehow compromised our security as well?”
There was a short silence, a silence in which they looked at their wrists with slightly horrified expressions.
“Then we really have no choice.” Rafael came to the conclusion with a grim twist of his lips. “The Glass Wall, the security classifications, and the cords of light spanning the dimensions must be related and only the Hall of Mirrors can show us the truth. But I can’t drag Sydney into this further—”
“No!” I reacted instinctively. Thinking of the foot-wide Blue Thread hovering invisibly over my head, I added, “This whole thing is much bigger than just me. I’m coming with you. Maybe this is what my Blue Thread is all about. And anyway, the lizard people seem to be everywhere, so I’m safer with you than by myself.”
They couldn’t argue with that though Rafael seemed as if he might try.
“I’m going,” I inserted quickly with a stubborn lift of my chin. “You’re not leaving me behind. I’m too deeply involved now.”
But Rafael was just as adamant. “It’s too dangerous. You don’t understand what this entails, Sydney.”
“You don’t really have a choice.” I scowled at him. I wasn’t about to let him make me wait somewhere alone.
He raised a challenging brow. “Is that so, little human?”
I lifted my chin higher.
“She’s right, Rafael.” Jareth broke in. “It’s her fate to join us. You can see for yourself, if you care to look.” He waved above my head in a broad gesture.
Rafael shot me a quick glance before focusing his penetrating gaze over my head. For several long moments, his muscular chest rose and fell, and then he turned away and bowed his head in concession.
I was relieved. If I was going to face danger, I’d rather be with them than by myself.
“It’s decided then.” Jareth shrugged, pointing to the crowd in the mirror. “When they’re gone, we’ll retrieve the tethers at my quarters, and Rafael can guide us to the Hall of Mirrors and we’ll uncover the truth.”
Passing his hand over his face, Rafael expelled his breath in a long, deep sigh. He was clearly reluctant, something I could totally understand considering what he’d just shared about them executing us on sight.
“Then so be it,” he finally said.
Jareth’s dark eyes flashed, but he didn’t make some snarky comment as I expected him to. Instead, he settled back onto the couch and closed his eyes.
Rafael’s gaze fell on me, weighted with concern. “My heart would see you safely returned to Earth first, Sydney. But it seems that Fate has other plans.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just nodded.
“Then it’s decided,” he continued in a tone of finality. “We shall see what the Hall of Mirrors may reveal. But first, let’s refresh ourselves. We’ll need our wits about us soon enough.”
Turning smartly on his heel, he disappeared into the depths of his closet.
I was right behind him, following him around as he selected clothes and peppering him with questions. At first I tried to convince myself that I needed answers, but I soon gave up, knowing that my questions were only excuses to talk to him.
I just wanted to be near him, even though he’d said he’d come back for Raven. It wasn’t logical, and for the first time in my life, I had an inkling of understanding for my mother.
That made me focus for a few minutes, and I genuinely tried to get back to business. Skipping a little to catch up with him, I asked, “So, why can’t you just shift into the Hall of Mirrors? I mean, can’t you just shift anywhere you like?”
The muscle in his jaw ticked.
Clearly, he didn’t care for speaking about the Hall of Mirrors.
Selecting a gray jacket, he held it up to five different pink shirts before answering curtly, “Our bracelets limit where we can shift.”
I pretended to mull that over as I became strangely distracted by the muscles bulging on his arms. “You must really work out a lot,” I mused. “You look like one of those marble statues.”
He faced me, clearly bemused, and as his lips quirked up I realized I’d spoken out loud.
I blushed crimson and pretended to cough. I winced at my lame response. Embarrassed, I quickly attempted to change subjects. “So how are we going to get into this Hall of Mirrors and how does it work? Do we ask questions or something?”
He turned away and picked out a new gray jacket before saying, �
��I shouldn’t speak of this with you. You shouldn’t know these things, Sydney. It’s a death sentence.”
I frowned a little. I’d always grown up thinking fairies were basically nice, light-hearted creatures. Yeah, there were stories of them being a little ornery at times but nothing indicating that they were cold-blooded fiends who killed on sight without asking questions. “That’s a bit harsh. So what do I have to do once we get there?” I asked, trailing behind him. “How can I help?”
“You’ll see when the time is right,” he answered briefly.
I asked him the same question in different ways and got shades of the same answer. From the corner of my eye, I saw something bright in the pile of clothing that had spilled from the rack he’d pulled over when I’d first arrived. Recognizing my fork, I leaned over and fished it out, pocketing it in my jeans before hurrying to join him.
“—and you’re not really attending my words, so let’s leave this matter for another time,” he said coolly, whirling to face me with a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Uh, sorry.” I smiled sheepishly.
“This would suit you well.” He stepped closer, holding up a pair of silky black leggings and a dark blue shirt that was closer to a dress in size on me. “What do you think of the coloring?”
It was weird to be discussing clothes with all that was going on. It reminded me of the last time I’d been with him, when he and Harmony had dickered about the shade of green I was to wear right before we’d escaped. He’d told me then that humans were so caught on the future that they always missed the ‘now’.
“It’s hard to stay so focused on the present,” I admitted. “How do you do it? How can you act so normal when everything’s falling apart around us?”
A smile crept across his face. “Nothing abnormal is happening at the moment, so the only way one can act right now is what you call ‘normal’, is that not so?”
I shook my head in disagreement. “No! We should be freaking out or making battle plans, not looking at clothes as if we’re going out to dinner or something!”
His smile broadened as he observed mildly, “Ah! This must be the dreaming part of humans coming into play here. How can we make these battle plans when we can’t yet see what we’re battling? And how does fretting over improbable possibilities serve any purpose but to exhaust you? When the time comes for you to think smart and act quickly, you’ll be too tired and only increase the likelihood of making a bad decision!”
I blinked. I’d never thought of approaching life that way. “It sounds a bit irresponsible to just forget about it all like it isn’t happening,” I said a tad defensively.
“Ah, I never said to do that.” He reached down and tweaked the tip of my nose.
I swallowed and willed myself not to blush.
He was watching me in a bemused manner. “I only meant now is the time one must make deliberate decisions that lead to the best possible outcome, such as handling all abnormal matters only under optimal circumstances.”
I frowned. “Meaning?”
He brought his face close to mine and winked. “Take a shower, put on fresh clothing, a little makeup, and get something to eat first, Sydney.” He laughed and thrust the clothes into my arms.
I stared into his hypnotic gray eyes, getting a little lost in them. We just stood there and then I suddenly found his presence overwhelming.
He lifted his hand to softly cup my cheek. There was something in his touch, a kind of magnetic charm. I wondered what he’d do if I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him. Shocked at my imagination, I became flustered and found myself babbling, “What do you think my Blue Thread is really about?”
He didn’t move his hand. Instead, he softly stroked my jawline with his thumb and smiled absently. “It’s impossible to know. There’s no point in wasting time worrying about it, Sydney. We’d never worry about the right thing. It’s always something you can’t predict.”
His touch rattled me and I fought the urge to chatter nervously. And I could tell by the gleam of amusement in his eye that he understood that more than I liked.
Laying a long, elegant finger across my lips, he said, “I have something that’s fated for you.”
I stared at him blankly.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward, past several rows of clothing to the corner of his closet where a small table stood. Its polished surface was cluttered with several jeweled caskets and a large ancient-looking chest. Flipping the lid of the chest open, he rummaged around in it for a few moments, still holding my wrist in his warm, strong fingers.
Curiously, I leaned closer to peer into the chest. I couldn’t see much, but I caught a glimpse of a crystal cylinder container. Within it floated a golden feather, a feather so bright that it appeared to be made out of pure sunlight. But then, Rafael’s hand clamped over it, and I found myself instead staring at his hand a bit distractedly. I imagined what it would be like to thread my fingers through his and to not feel so nervous about the whole thing. Suddenly, I wondered if he’d held Raven’s hand like that, and my mood soured at once.
“Happy Birthday, Sydney!” his soft voice startled me as he towered above me with a lethally charming smile. “I regret that you missed your party. Perhaps this will make you feel a bit better.”
With a flourish, he presented me with a small, carved silver case.
I hesitated. It was obviously valuable.
“You’re fated to have this,” he insisted pleasantly, picking up my reluctance. “I’ve known for quite some time that it’s yours.”
Hesitantly, I took the case and slowly opened it.
It was a silver pen, exquisitely carved with Celtic symbols and with a magnificent blue sapphire embedded near the tip. It clearly wasn’t a fake sapphire, and that meant the metal was likely genuine as well. “I can’t take this!” I gasped, glancing up at him in astonishment. “This looks real!”
“Real?” He frowned a little, studying my reaction with surprise. “Would you expect Cor’s pen to be anything but real?” He appeared faintly insulted.
Cor? It took me a moment to recognize the name of the Fae’s most beloved king, his grandfather. I shoved the pen back into his hands as if it were on fire. “This is an heirloom!”
Raising a brow, he caught my fingers and closed them over the case. “It’s yours, not mine. The pen has chosen you. You can’t refuse it, little pixie.”
I flushed to hear him call me that and looked down at the pen, awestruck. “Is it a magic pen?”
His gray eyes twinkled at that. Leaning close, he whispered in my ear. “All pens are magic. They weave wondrous tales, spinning them out of the air to take us all on magical flights of fancy.”
I scarcely heard his words. I was too conscious of how close he was and the fact that my skin tingled under his touch.
Not quite knowing what possessed me, I boldly turned to face him, moving closer. I could feel his breath on my lips. He couldn’t have been more than an inch away. I don’t know how long we stayed like that.
After a moment, he reached over and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. With a suggestive smile, he lowered his voice and began, “As a matter of fact, my muscles are not made of marble—” But then he glanced over my shoulder and abruptly fell silent.
Following his gaze, I spied Jareth stepping out from behind a rack of clothing.
“Blatantly ignoring your fate?” he all but growled at Rafael.
Rafael’s expression was impenetrable, but he moved away from me to resume his perusal of his closet.
Disappointed and a little embarrassed, I glanced down at the pen and then hurriedly stuffed it into my sweatshirt pocket, wondering why he’d said it was fated to be mine.
I had no intention of standing there and talking to Jareth, so I skipped past him to join Rafael, but Jareth caught my arm.
“Be careful, Sydney,” he warned flatly. “You’re playing with fire here.”
I could have pretended to not know what he was talking a
bout, but I knew better. Instead, I just shrugged him off. Jareth would be the last person I’d voluntarily listen to, and his snarl of frustration at my obvious rejection of his advice only enforced that thought.
I found Rafael quickly enough, but I stayed back a little farther, and I was quiet this time, watching him select different outfits in silence.
There was a lot about Rafael that I liked—too much, actually. But the one thing I wasn’t sure I cared for was his preoccupation with fashion. I just didn’t get it. But on the other hand, it wasn’t so bad watching him move around. He was so graceful that he almost looked like he was dancing the entire time.
I followed for a while, but my previous, carefree enjoyment had disappeared. And as much as I hated to admit it, Jareth had a point. I really didn’t know what I was playing with, and caution had always served me well.
Finally, Rafael seemed finished. With a selection of clothing draped over his arm, he circled back to slide his hand between my shoulder blades and guide me to the wall where a door instantly appeared.
Pausing at the entrance with a bow, he said, “Take your time, Sydney, and relax. In the end, you’ll save the universe faster that way.”
A little puzzled, I accepted the offered clothing and stepped through the opening. The door zipped shut behind me, fusing into the wall as if it had never existed.
A little uneasy, I glanced around, trying to figure out where I was, and then it dawned on me that I was in a bathroom.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Rafael’s bathroom was about the size of Betty’s living room and family room combined, but I was. Covered, floor to ceiling in white marble, it was an inviting haven of relaxation. Trailing vines with big purple flowers clustered in the corners, and—to my great relief—there was not a mirror in sight.
I set my clothes down on a small pillar that looked like a stool or a table, wondering where the shower actually was and how I might turn it on. Peeling out of my wrinkled sweatshirt and jeans, I wandered around the bathroom looking for it, but didn’t get my answer until my last shred of clothing dropped to the floor.