“I can’t believe it, Elizabeth! What am I supposed to do?”
“Help us find Anjali.”
“I meant, what am I supposed to do about you? Can I trust you? I thought I could. The mirror says I can.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Watch.” He turned away from me toward the mirror. His handsome face looked sinister enough in real life; his reflection was so bitter it scared me. I wondered what he must be seeing in my face in the mirror. That mirror could certainly put its own twist on what it saw.
Aaron asked the mirror:
“Elizabeth, who we discussed,
Is she someone I can trust?”
His reflection listened with a little smirk on its perfect chiseled lips. It looked me straight in the eye and replied in Aaron’s voice,
“Bitsy Rew is brave and true.
A pity she’s not pretty too.”
“Oh, nice,” I said. “For the record, my name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth! Nobody calls me Bitsy. Did you hear that, you vile object?” I started to scowl at the mirror but quickly stopped—I didn’t want to think about how my scowl would look once the mirror got through distorting it. I turned to Aaron. “What makes you think you can trust that thing? It’s evil!”
“I know, but it can’t lie.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“No, I mean, it’s right about you being brave . . . and it does tell people the truth about their looks—you know how it told Snow White’s stepmother the minute she stopped being the fairest of them all.”
Aaron’s reflection was smiling smugly, while Aaron’s own face twisted in an awkward combination of embarrassed and angry.
“So you’re saying you agree, I’m not pretty?”
“No—I didn’t say that! I think it has to tell the truth, but it doesn’t have to tell the whole truth. It can’t just lie, but it can be as mean and difficult as it wants. It clearly likes to mess around with people and get them in trouble—remember what happened to Snow White’s stepmother.”
“I don’t, actually. What did happen to her?” I asked.
“I don’t remember either. Something bad. But that’s not the point. The point is, the mirror likes to tease and torment, but it can’t just out-and-out lie. So if I have to think about it, it’s right: pretty isn’t the word I would use for you. As far as pretty goes . . . you can be beautiful but not pretty.”
“Oh, are you calling me beautiful, then? You’re saying that’s what the mirror meant?” Did he really think he could get out of the insult by pretending he meant it as a compliment?
Aaron threw his hands in the air. “What is it with you women? There’s a magic mirror that can tell you the truth about anything you want to know, and all you can think about is whether you’re beautiful!”
“What do you mean, ‘you women’? Who’s ‘you women’?”
“You and Snow White’s stepmother, for starts.”
“Oh, so you’re lumping me in with Snow White’s stepmother now? Watch out, I might poison you with an apple.”
Aaron’s reflection in the mirror looked as if it was enjoying this far too much.
“Don’t look at me like that, you!” I told it. “If I weren’t afraid of seven years of bad luck, I would smash you to bits.” Aaron’s reflection in the mirror doubled over laughing. I picked up a shoe from the floor and held it up threateningly. “You suck. Don’t push your luck,” I said.
The mirror answered,
“Silly girl, Elizabeth—
Don’t you know you rhyme with death?”
“You think you can scare me? You don’t scare me one bit!” My voice came out terrified.
Aaron gently took the shoe from me and put it down. “My firstborn child, remember? If you break it, I lose it. Let’s just ask the mirror about Anjali.”
I pulled myself together. “Okay, if you think that’ll do any good.” I considered for a while, then said,
“Anjali, the elder Rao,
What is her location now?”
The mirror answered:
“In a cabinet of glass,
Where only royal blood may pass,
From Versailles to the Taj Mahal—
There she stands, a real doll.”
“What does that mean?” said Aaron. The mirror didn’t deign to respond.
“I think it might mean she’s a doll.”
“Yes, yes, we know she’s gorgeous, but where is she?”
“No, I mean she’s really a doll. We think Mr. Stone turned her into a figurine. He tried to do it to us too.”
I turned to the mirror.
“Do you literally mean
That Anjali’s a figurine?”
Aaron’s reflection in the mirror nodded. “Don’t get your panties in a whirl,” it answered, demonstrating with an obscene-looking gesture. “She’s a puppet, not a girl.”
“Oh, no, that’s horrifying!” I said.
“How are we going to get her back?” said Aaron.
I addressed the mirror:
“We’re terrified for Anjali.
Tell us how to set her free.”
Aaron’s reflection shook its finger at me teasingly and said,
“But Liz, your rival’s locked away.
Here’s your chance to seize the day.”
Aaron turned to me, his eyes widening. “Is that true? Is Anjali your rival? Why?”
“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me you believe that thing! You know it’s evil! You said yourself it likes to mess with people.”
“Yeah, I guess. She sounded pretty convincing, though.”
“Who did?”
“The mirror.”
“Why are you calling it ‘she’? It was talking in your voice.”
“No, it wasn’t—it was using yours. And now she’s smirking at me, just like you do.”
Aaron was glowering at me, but his reflection looked like it was about to burst out laughing.
“I bet that’s because we can’t see ourselves from where we’re sitting, just each other. The mirror has to show us what we see reflected. Come over here so it reflects us both,” I said. I sat on the bed, across from the mirror. Aaron walked over and sat down beside me, his shoulder touching mine.
In the mirror, his reflection put its arm around my reflection’s shoulders. My reflection nestled against him and looked up at him with adoring eyes. His reflection started playing with my reflection’s hair. She twisted around, curled her legs up on the bed, and put her head in his lap. I heard myself give an embarrassed giggle. It was almost as embarrassing as what was going on in the mirror.
Aaron looked embarrassed too. He said,
“Anjali! Is she okay?
I’d like an answer, please—today.”
Our reflections put their cheeks together and crooned,
“She’s surrounded by her peers,
Royals missing through the years.
She’s the glory of the hoard—
Safe enough, though rather bored.”
Then they put their foreheads together and looked into each other’s eyes.
I turned to Aaron and said, “Right. So if we can trust the mirror, she’s safe where she is, for now. That’s good news, anyway. We have some time to figure everything out.”
“While you try to get Marc’s attention, with your rival away?”
“Aaron, what is the matter with you?”
In the mirror, our reflections were staring at us with their mouths parted, as if they were watching the climax of an exciting movie. They had their arms around each other.
“Come on, Aaron! Let’s try one more time to get something useful out of the horrible thing, and if we can’t, let’s smash it. Or at least cover it.”
“Yes, okay. You ask this time.”
I thought for a bit and said,
“For the last time—answer me!
How can we free Anjali?”
As if they knew this was their last chance to torment us, the couple in the mirror turned to each other with a new i
ntensity. Like a ghastly parody of Marc and Anjali in the magic painting after the basketball game—or my dream that night—Aaron’s reflection began kissing my reflection on the neck. She turned to us and breathed,
“Want to rescue Anjali?
Find and use the Golden Key.”
Then she went back to making out with Aaron’s reflection.
“Stop it!” said Aaron. The door opened behind us and a woman came in. I saw her in the mirror, staring out at us—evidently the real woman was staring at our reflections in the mirror.
I could see why; they were well worth staring at. They sprang apart hurriedly, straightening their clothes. By the time the real woman turned to look at the real us, our reflections were sitting up very straight, a foot apart, blushing furiously—exactly like us, as if they were reflections in a normal mirror.
“Mom! Can’t you knock?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company.” She looked at me expectantly.
“This is—this is my friend from the repository. We were just . . . ,” Aaron trailed off.
Aaron’s mother held out her hand to me. “Let me guess—Angeline?”
“No, Mom, not Anjali! It’s not Angeline, anyway, it’s Anjali,” said Aaron. “AHHHN-jah-lee. It’s Indian.”
“I’m so sorry, Anjali. I’m Rebecca Rosendorn.” I could see her struggling not to look thrown off balance, wondering how someone so obviously Caucasian had ended up with an Indian name. If I hadn’t been so busy trying to get my own balance, I would have felt sorry for her.
“But I’m not Anjali,” I said. “I’m Elizabeth. Elizabeth Rew.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, Elizabeth! Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’ll just . . . leave this door open, shall I?” She left the room, with the door gaping wide.
I picked up my coat. “I think I’d better go. I don’t think there’s anything more we can do about Anjali tonight, and your mom—”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He walked me to the apartment door. “Want me to take you home?” he asked. “Or at least to the subway stop?”
“Thanks, I think I can get there myself.”
“Okay—see you tomorrow, then.”
“Bye.” I concentrated on getting to the subway. It was hard, but it helped keep my mind off what our reflections were doing under that blanket. I made it home with only one false turn.
Chapter 20:
The shrink ray
The next morning I went to the repository early and looked for Marc. He was on Stack 6. I looked around to make sure nobody was listening. “Well?” I whispered. “What are we going to do about the kuduo?”
“It’s done,” he said. “I just got back from Stone’s.”
“You did it? You stole the kuduo? You were supposed to wait for me!”
“It’s not stealing.”
I decided not to argue the point. “Did you at least empty out the deposits before you took it?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t figure out how to get them out, or what to do with them if I did.”
Oh, no! Good-bye to my sense of direction! I wondered whether Mr. Stone would be able to take it out of the kuduo and use it. Good luck to him if he did—it was never much good even when I had it. Good-bye to Aaron’s firstborn and everything else. Not for the first time, I thought Marc was pretty selfish. “Did you at least find out where Anjali is?” I asked. “The Snow White mirror said she’s a puppet.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
I told him about the conversation with Aaron and the mirror.
“So the spell worked on Anjali! A puppet! At least now we know what to look for when we go rescue her,” said Marc.
“So you found out where?”
He nodded. “Stone gave me a name and address. A woman named Gloria Badwin, in the West Village. I’m going there today, as soon as my shift is over—I just have to wait for Mrs. Walker to drop off Andre here.”
“Who’s Mrs. Walker?” I asked.
“Andre’s friend’s mom. She’s dropping him off here after his playdate, when my shift is over. I’ll have to get someone to watch him while I go look for Anjali.”
“That’s not the only problem. Before we rescue Anjali, we’ll need to find the Golden Key, whatever that is.”
“The Golden Key? Why?”
I told him what the mirror had said.
“Well, that’s easy enough. I’ll go get the key right now.”
“You know where it is? You know what it is?”
“Yeah, it’s one of the objects in the Grimm Collection. Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
I sat down and opened the book I was reading for English. I heard him come in, but I didn’t look up. “Did you find it?” I asked.
“Find what?” said Aaron.
My heart tripped over its ankles. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you were Marc.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Aaron scowled at me. I tried to think of something better to say. “How’s your . . .” His what? His evil mirror? His hastily made bed? “How’s your mom?”
He blushed. “She’s fine. Look, what are we going to do about Anjali? Have you figured out what this Golden Key is?”
“Something from the Grimm Collection, Marc said. He went to get it.”
“You told him?”
“Of course I told him! He’s Anjali’s boyfriend. He has a right to know.”
“He’s also the guy who’s been stealing things from the Grimm Collection, remember?”
Marc walked in before I could answer. “I forgot—you need two keys to get into the GC now. Can I take yours?” Marc asked me.
I reached in my pocket.
“You’re not going to give it to him!” said Aaron. “Doc told you never to lend it to anyone!”
“Anjali got kidnapped! I need to rescue her!” said Marc.
“Why are you trying to stop me?”
“I’m not—,” Aaron began.
I grabbed his arm. “Shh, here comes Ms. Minnian.”
Ms. Minnian hurried over to us, her heels clicking on the linoleum. “Have any of you seen Dr. Rust? Or Anjali?” she asked. She sounded very worried.
We all shook our heads. “No—why?” said Marc.
“Nobody’s seen Dr. Rust since yesterday, and Anjali didn’t show up for her shift. If you hear from either of them, can you come and tell me or Ms. Callender immediately, please?”
“Of course,” I said. “Wow, I hope they’re okay!”
“I hope so too. Until we find Dr. Rust, we’re putting the Grimm Collection completely out of bounds. We’ve changed all the locks—your keys won’t work. If you get a *GC slip, send it straight to me.” She walked off quickly.
I waited until I couldn’t hear her heels anymore, then said, “I guess that means we can’t ask Doc for help. But we could still ask Ms. Minnian or Ms. Callender.”
“No!” said Marc. “This is just more proof that we can’t trust anyone.”
“I can certainly agree with that,” said Aaron. He glared at Marc to show exactly who he meant by “anyone.”
“Do you think Wallace Stone stole Dr. Rust too somehow?” I asked. “We should have warned Doc about Stone—Doc trusted him! Or is Doc looking for the kuduo?”
“What do you mean? What happened to the kuduo?” asked Aaron.
Now it was Marc’s turn to glare at me.
“Answer me,” said Aaron. “Where’s the kuduo?”
After a moment, I answered. “Marc took it. He traded it to Wallace Stone for the address of the person who has Anjali.”
“He what? He stole the kuduo? With my firstborn child in it? And you knew about it and you let him? I can’t believe you!” He stared at me for a moment, then spun on his heel and started to walk off.
“Wait! Aaron!” I grabbed his arm again. “Where are you going?”
“To tell Ms. Minnian and then the police. Let go!” He shook his arm.
Marc stepped between him and the door. “You can’t do that. You know you ca
n’t. We’ve got to rescue Anjali—Stone gave me the address and the mirror told you about the Golden Key. Think about it! If we tell the librarians, they won’t let us near it and we’ll never get Anjali back!”
“They’ll get her back themselves.”
“You think you can trust them? Maybe Doc’s in on it. Maybe they’re all in on it!” said Marc.
“Or maybe nobody’s in on it except you. You just admitted you stole the kuduo! Get out of my way!”
“You think I would let my own girlfriend get kidnapped if I was in on it? Just calm down and think for a minute, Aaron! The point is, we know what to do, but if we tell the librarians, they won’t let us do it.”
“Aaron, he’s right,” I said. “You know he is. We have to rescue Anjali! Can we please just stop fighting and figure out how?”
Aaron glared at me some more, but he stopped trying to get to the door. “All right,” he said. “We’ll rescue Anjali. But the moment she’s safe, I’m turning Marc in.”
“Fine,” said Marc. “I don’t care what happens to me if Anjali’s safe. Let’s go get the Golden Key and rescue her.”
“Yeah, but how?” I said. “It’s in the Grimm Collection and they changed the locks. Our keys won’t work. Is there any other way into the Grimm Collection besides the door?”
Both boys looked stumped.
“Not unless you crawled in through the pneum pipes,” said Marc.
“Hey,” said Aaron. “That’s a thought.”
“Yeah, right,” said Marc. “You may be short, but you’re not that short.”
Aaron gave him a withering look. “We can use the shrink ray in the Wells Bequest. Ms. Minnian didn’t say anything about the other Special Collections, just the Grimm Collection—I bet my Wells key still works. I can shrink you down and send you into the Grimm Collection in a pneum.”
“There’s actually a shrink ray? That’s brilliant!” I said.
Marc nodded grudgingly. “I guess that could work,” he said.
I thought about it some more. “Okay, so that’s how we get into the Grimm Collection, but how do we get out? We would need somebody full size to send us back through the pipes.”
“Maybe we can use this Golden Key to get out. Any idea what it does?” said Marc.
“It opens a box. Nobody knows what’s in the box,” said Aaron.
The Grimm Legacy Page 19