City of Villains

by Estelle Laure

  “Hey,” a voice calls. “You okay in there?”

  I’m on a checkered floor, slumped against a metal stall. This is the bathroom in Wonderland. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here, but I can hear there’s still music playing outside, so it can’t have been too long. “I’m fine.” At least I think I’m fine. I’m not bleeding.

  “Okay.” The voice is dubious. “But it’s pretty gross on the floor, so if I were you I’d get up.”

  I brush myself off as I get to my feet, light-headed, noting that it says, FOR A GOOD TIME CALL MARY ELIZABETH on the wall, with a number nowhere near my own, scrawled by morons about me or another unlucky Mary Elizabeth, maybe. I make sure my wallet and key to my apartment are still in my back pocket and stumble out.

  “Oh, it’s you.” It’s Josey, one of the less-evil Narrows. She’s still blurry, but I know it’s her from her voice, and because even though she’s Narrow to the bone with that standard bob and everything, she’s always been nice.

  “Hi, Josey. How goes it?” I make it to the sink. My legs are still unsteady.

  “Better than you, I guess. What happened to you? I’m so glad you’re not stabbed to death or something,” Josey says. “My mom didn’t even want me to come over here tonight. She would love it if I would just sit at home at our new Scar address and never even leave the house after dark. She was like, ‘Josey, Wonderland isn’t safe. Those people are unpredictable.’ But Lucas and Katy were here and I didn’t want to sit at the apartment all night streaming something depressing or whatever. She let me come over when Lucas sent a limo for me.” She glances over at me. “Sorry. I don’t mean to sound like an awful person, but to be fair, it is kind of crazy lately, with everyone just disappearing left and right.”

  Now that the world is back in focus, I wish she would stop talking, but I can’t help responding. “Are you actually saying hanging out with Lucas and Katy is less depressing than whatever you could possibly be streaming?”

  She looks at me sideways and gets some pressed powder out of her clutch and powders her nose. “Lucas is not as bad as you probably think.”

  “And Katy?”

  “Oh, no, yeah, Katy sucks, but sometimes I need to hang out with people and it’s not like you’re inviting me to hang like they are, right?”

  She waits.

  I wait.

  “And also I can’t really get mad at my mom for saying stuff like that because I mean, here we are, and you were just passed out on a bathroom floor, which is, I don’t know.” Josey reaches for my wrist. Her fingers are warm and soft. She strokes the mark.

  “Um, excuse me,” I say.

  “Wow,” she says dreamily. “It’s a perfect heart. And you were born with it. You’re so lucky.”

  “Lucky,” I echo.

  “I already told my mom I want to get a tattoo just like that one, ASAP.”

  “Why? People outside the Scar look at you strange. They judge you. They categorize you.” I think of the police reports, how they always specify if someone is Legacy.

  “But…you guys are free. You’re wild and do whatever you want. And you’ve got the best weather and the best food and magic gardens. And, well, maybe you’re not magic anymore, but you used to be. You used to be able to snap your fingers and make wishes come true.”

  She waits like she expects me to say something back. “Josey, I don’t mean to be heinous, but I’m not feeling very well.”

  “Totally,” she says. “Duh, I found you on the floor! I’m sure you’ve got Legacy things to do. I’ll just put on my lipstick over here and not say a word.”

  “Great.” It’s funny, though, when I turn back to the mirror I realize she’s distracted me from feeling terrible and panicked, and I’m feeling much better.

  “So are you hanging out alone tonight?” Josey says after a few seconds.

  “Josey, if there’s even a small part of you that’s thinking of inviting me up to that dais with your demonic friends, please do not. Your lord commander and I don’t get along.” Before she can argue with me I turn away from her to stare at myself in the dirty mirror.

  Then something happens.

  There’s a shudder in the reflection, even though I’m standing perfectly still.

  I blink. Then I squint. Must have imagined it.

  But then my reflection in the mirror contorts, a ripple of a face over my own. The girl in the mirror has high eyebrows, her red hair in a Dutch crown, pronounced red lips, and the craziest eyes I have ever seen in my life, feverish with rage.

  And they’re my eyes. And that’s my face.

  I raise my hands to my cheeks. My reflection does the same, then claps her hands together and laughs silently.

  I must be losing my mind.

  Or maybe it’s a Trace.

  I wave at myself. I can move just fine. This is happening. This is really real.

  “Ten, nine, eight…” I close my eyes and then open them again, hoping that face will have disappeared and the pale, wan reflection I’m used to will be there. But it’s not. The same warped version of me stares back.

  I feel extremely awake now, all my senses at full attention.

  “Hey, are you okay? Are you going to pass out again? Because I could go get someone.”

  “Josey, please stop talking,” I manage, but barely.

  “Well, that’s not very nice,” she says.

  I take a fingertip and very slowly place it against the dirty glass. EAT ME, it says across the bottom in white, chalky letters.

  I am dimly aware of Josey, but it’s like she’s talking from a great distance, like everything has slowed down except me, the mirror, and the reflection that only almost looks like mine. I push. There’s a ripple like the top of a lake.

  “Do you see that?” I whisper, the fear in me so great I’m not sure I even make a sound.

  Josey furrows her brow. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re starting to freak me out, Mary Elizabeth.”

  I push a little harder. The glass gives, turning opaque like silver satin as my finger disappears to the knuckle. Is this what happened to Ursula and Mally? Did this mirror eat them?

  I pull my finger back and cradle it against my chest. Somewhere in the background Josey is running from the bathroom, letting the door slam behind her.

  I’m totally frozen as my mirror image folds her arms and watches, waiting for what I’m going to do next. Then something in me breaks, and I run out of the bathroom and out of Wonderland as fast as I can.

  I THOUGHT I COULD COME HOME AND GET MYSELF together, figure out what to say to Bella, and maybe even find my boyfriend, but when I walk in the front door the Naturalists are in the living room and Gia is incandescent playing hostess. I had completely forgotten they would be here taking over the apartment. They’re currently sitting in a circle, giggling a little hysterically. There are crystals everywhere and Gia is swanning around making sure everyone has what they need. She’s put scarves over the lamps and a piece of black lace over the TV so our little apartment looks like the inside of a fortune-teller’s tent.

  This is why it’s so ridiculous when people include Naturalists in the factions. They’re a bunch of middle-aged ladies in flowy dresses on the verge of needing to purchase compression socks, reminiscing because they miss magic and they think if they wish hard enough, it will come back.

  There are about nine of them, and each is in an outfit more sequined and silked than the next. There are also a lot of hats involved, everything from turbans to fascinators to berets. The women don’t acknowledge me and I take the opportunity to try James again, then when I can’t get him, I sneak into the bathroom and sink under steaming-hot shower water. I don’t even know what happened at Wonderland, but I have to admit that even though it terrified me and the image in the mirror was…well…She seemed crazy, but it felt good.

  It felt powerful. I looked powerful.

  I’ve just emerged from the shower with a plan to go over to Della’s and see if I can find James. I’m trying to m
ake my way out the door unnoticed when Gia says, “Sweetheart, where you going? Come over here and help us.”

  “Help you with what, G?” I say.

  “Why, magic, of course.”

  The entire circle erupts into laughter. Gia and her friend Ginny lean on each other. They meet biweekly to do psychic testing, try old magical recipes, and spells, and to read tea leaves. Nothing ever works and no one ever cares. This is more of a wine-drinking club than anything else. Thirty minutes trying to bring magic back, four hours commiserating and gossiping and laughing.

  “What sort of magic?” I ask.

  “We thought tonight we’d levitate.” Another burst of good-natured laughter follows.

  “Levitate?” I stand outside the circle. “Really?” This has to go on record as my oddest day yet, and I’ve had some really strange ones. It started with Ursula’s phone, then I passed out and stuck my finger in a mirror, and now to top it off, I’m being invited to levitate with my aunt.

  “Well, you never know,” Evelyn says. She’s the organizer with the lists. “Even without magic some enlightened people have supposedly levitated. Why not us?”

  “Honey,” Cindy, the irritating one, says, “the thing about magic is it’s underground. It’s running under all of us. All we have to do is figure out how we can invite it to join us. Did you know the entire Scar is built over a bed of crystals? That’s why it’s so wild here. So let’s access that crystal magic and rise up!”

  “Come on, baby girl.” Gia scoots to the side and makes room for me between her and Ginny. “We need eleven for this, according to the old ways, and we’re only ten.” She pats the floor. “We already tried it once and all that happened was that Evelyn burped!”

  Evelyn reddens. “Don’t serve hummus and complain to me. What do you expect?”

  I flop down between Ginny and Gia, their combined warm, friendly body heat soothing me. Gia is the kind of happy she only gets when she has her friends around her. It’s nice to see her this way, having so much fun and not thinking about bills or money or leaky roofs, or worrying about me.

  “Finally,” Mattie with the mosquito face says. “I don’t have all night. Are you going to take this seriously, Mary Elizabeth?”

  “Sure am,” I say, and Gia squeezes my hand.

  One by one, the ladies link arms.

  “Close your eyes,” Gia whispers to me. “Let the magic flow through you like a wave.”

  “G?”

  Gia opens one eye. “What?”

  “Something happened tonight at Wonderland. I don’t know if I should—”

  “Shhhh,” Cindy says. “You’re wrecking the energy!”

  Gia pats my leg. “Don’t worry. It’s just for fun.”

  “Ladies of the Naturalist Society, welcome back to the circle,” Cindy says. She fancies herself the leader here. “Welcome also to the divine magic that courses through our blood and in the ground under our feet. Today we ask that magic be present in witnessing our devotion, and that it bless us with its natural resource. Magic, we know our kind has taken you for granted, misused and hurt you, but we ask you to help us remove your shackles so that you may flow freely among us.” She clears her throat of emotion and continues. “Our ancestors carried this magic, and for a brief time we did as well. Return it to us now.”

  I keep my eyes shut as the women begin to move. I’ve seen them do this before, so I don’t need to look. Each one of them is rotating her torso, humming lightly. When they have done this for long enough, they release one another’s hands and the humming grows louder. As much as I think all this is ridiculous, the hum is building inside me and seems to be spreading through my body. My fingers and toes tingle.

  I could fall asleep right now. I have the same warmth in my toes as on a good night before bed. Thoughts of good nights lead to thoughts of James, which leads to thinking of his arms, the black heart on his wrist, us breathing together, holding each other, the blue light, thebluelightthebluelight.

  And then Cindy is saying, “Nobody move. Open your eyes.”

  Gasps and a couple of wails bring me out of my daydream. I open my eyes. Everyone is staring at me.

  I am hovering two feet above the rest of them. Blue light weaves gently around my waist and arms, like limbs holding me.

  Gia’s trembling and so am I.

  “Mary Elizabeth Heart,” she says, staring up at me. “What have you been up to?”

  WHEN I CAN’T REACH JAMES THIS TIME, I CALL SMEE. There are loud noises behind him, sounds of a party. James doesn’t allow parties at their place and it doesn’t sound like Wonderland.

  “This is Smee,” he says. “How may I be of assistance to you?”

  “Smee, where’s James? He hasn’t been answering his phone.”

  “What? He’s right here. I just saw him on his phone five minutes ago. I was wondering where you were, although I have to tell you, the Cap’s not in his usual semi-hostile mood. I’d say he’s closer to full-blown.” He loses focus for a few seconds as he says hi to someone and I try to hold on to my temper.

  “Where are you?”

  “Della’s,” he says. Then, “Maybe don’t tell him I told you. If there’s something going on between you two I’d rather not get involved.”

  “There’s nothing going—” I say, but the phone signals the call has ended and I jump on the next train over. I don’t know why James is upset, but I do know we need to be together right now. I need him, and it sounds like he needs me, too.

  When I see James’s car parked outside his godmother’s house, I relax a little. I worried the whole way here he would be gone by the time I arrived, but I’m mere minutes from being safely in his arms and finding out why he’s been avoiding me today.

  I think…No, I know James has never done this before.

  The music blares out into the street and the staircase is decorated with people of all shapes and sizes. Inside there’s food and dancing. Not many people have their own three-story houses in the Scar, but Della is an exception. She’s practically royalty, was queen fairy godmother in her day, making the best gowns, throwing the best parties, even magicking up a castle when she had to.

  “Baby!” Della glides over to me when I’m through the door. I spy a huge table behind her covered in goodies of all kinds. “I’ve been wondering where you were!”

  “James didn’t invite me.”

  She lets her hand fall across her chest. “You go right on in and give him a hard time.” Della squeezes me. “Welcome. Try to have some fun. What else can you do?” Della points, her gauzy sleeve opening like a butterfly wing. “James is over there with a couple of the boys. You two ought to dance.”

  James is by the music. He wears the same overly bright, restless expression as the last couple of times I’ve seen him. Stone and Smee are next to him and they take off as soon as they see me.

  He tries to play it off like he hasn’t been acting weird today and leans down for a kiss.

  “I’ve been trying to call you all day,” I say.

  “I was going to call you as soon as I could get my head together,” he says weakly.

  “But in the meantime you could hang out here and party and just let me call you fifty times imagining you’re dead or something?”

  “Well, I’m not dead. I’m right here. I just needed a minute, okay?”

  “Oh, you needed some space?”

  James and I have talked about how when someone asks for space it means that person isn’t into you anymore.

  James clouds over. “No, I don’t need space. We’re just going through a lot right now. After last night, whatever Ursula’s turned into. It’s stressful. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you though. You’re the last person who needs this. I’m sorry, Mary…” He takes my hand. “Come on, let’s forget about all of this. Dance with me.”

  I’m surrounded by people we both know from the Scar, and Della watches us from the corner over a glass of something white and bubbly, smiling proudly. I let James take me into th
e center of the room. He slings my arms over his shoulders and brings his body close to mine.

  “James.”

  “Let me talk, okay?” We sway back and forth and I try to let myself fall into him like I usually do, but even though I let myself be moved, I feel stiff. “It’s wrecking me to keep secrets from you. There have been so many times I’ve wanted to tell you everything that’s been going on, but as long as you’re working for the cops I can’t. I would incriminate you and everyone we care about.”

  I stop moving and look up at him, his warm eyes. He runs a thumb along my cheekbone. I rise up on my tiptoes and let my lips press against his, let my body dissolve. Then I take a step back. I’m about to ask him a question and everything depends on how he answers it, so I need to be far enough away from him to assess properly.

  “Do you know what’s going on with Ursula, James?”

  The light goes out of his eyes, and he drops his arms to the side.

  “Do you have anything to do with…” I press. “Has your blue light told you that? Do you know where Mally is? Is that why you won’t tell me? Do you have something to do with them going missing?”

  I can’t believe I’m asking him even as the words come out. But he knew Ursula was at the lake. He has the blue light. He’s been acting so secretive, and he even got a tattoo at Cubby’s, which means he might know Caleb Rothco. What seemed totally impossible a few hours ago now appears plausible.

  “I’m not talking about this in here.” We weave through the crowd, outside and into the backyard, where Della has lanterns hung on strings. They give off the same warm yellow light as fireflies, and flutter in the breeze.

  As soon as we’re outside I turn on him. “It would be a lie by omission,” I say. “You promised we would never lie to each other, but the longer this goes on…and if you had anything to do with them or where they are, you have to tell me.”