by Wendy Knight
"Oh. Crap." She bit her lip and frowned, dropping the phone onto the table.
He left her to it and ran up to the bathroom. He'd learned early on to never go into a room with a mirror without the light on first. Mary couldn't come out unless he called her name three times, but that didn't mean he wanted to tempt fate or anything. "Where are you, Eiress?" He scanned the mirror, but the crush of damned was so complete that he couldn't see her.
He could feel her, though. He could feel the panic and the fear and the pain. Because of that, he refused to look away. He had to dig way down deep to find the courage, because it was seriously messed up—Mary and Elizabeth were sweeping across the dance floor, their skin white, lips bloodless, hands like claws on the arms of the souls they were sending back to earth.
Evil souls.
Mary and Elizabeth always chose the very most evilest of souls to send back. Maybe because they ruled the Isles, but unlike their princesses, they never had to take the Damned souls' place in hell. It wasn't fair.
Not at all.
That was when he saw her. Eiress wasn't crushed beneath the souls, but standing at the gate to hell, head held high, ushering the souls through with her glittering black staff. She looked…
Fearless.
Undefeatable.
Beautiful.
If he hadn't been able to feel her fear, he would think she had none in her.
"LANDON?"
Landon jerked out of wherever his mind had gone when he heard his name. He stared blankly at the teacher, scrambling to figure out what he'd asked. Something about Hitler?
"Hitler got syphilis. That's karma, baby." Cassie smirked, arm draped over the back of Landon's chair.
"Karma doesn't exist," a kid across the aisle said, rolling his eyes.
"What's karma?" Bella, the girl behind him, who somehow managed to be in high school despite being continually clueless, was frowning as she looked from Cassie to the kid whose name Landon couldn't remember.
"Karma is the belief that whatever you do, good or bad, it comes back to you," Cassie said over her shoulder.
Right. Landon gritted his teeth. But since he had no idea what they were talking about, he wasn't in a hurry to inject his own opinions.
Maybe Bella wasn't the only clueless one.
"Whatever. Karma had nothing to do with Hitler getting syphilis."
"Hitler did a lot of unspeakable things. He got what was coming to him."
The debate grew around him. Cassie loved to argue. She'd be a brilliant lawyer one day, or a politician. But Landon was fuming.
Karma? If karma existed, all those killers, all those evil souls Eiress fought every night, would have been tortured for their crimes. If karma existed, the rich and famous wouldn't be able to buy their way out of punishments. Child rapists wouldn't get out of prison after a few months. Murderers wouldn't live off society while their victims' families mourned.
If karma existed, Eiress, who was the kindest, most good and pure person he knew, wouldn't have been stuck in hell for fourteen years. If karma existed, Mary and Elizabeth and Vlad, who were the epitome of evil on earth, wouldn't have been living their afterlife like it was one big party.
"Karma is bullshit!' Landon yelled, slamming his hand on his desk.
The room fell silent as everyone stared at him. Cassie's cheeks went red and she glared, jerking her head away from him. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to bellow statements that didn't agree with her argument.
"Landon? Would you care to support your statement?" The teacher—always encouraging freedom of thought.
Landon sat up, glancing sideways at Cassie, who still refused to look at him. Bella piped in. "If karma existed, Cassie would have a boyfriend who actually realized she existed."
The entire class sucked in a breath as Cassie glanced over her shoulder at Bella. Then she looked back at Landon. Slowly, she nodded. "It's true. I guess you're right. Karma is bullshit."
"WE HAVE TO HELP HER."
Landon froze. He was used to hearing Eiress's voice, and sometimes Mary's or Elizabeth's, but this voice…it didn't come from the mirror.
It came from right next to him.
He jerked belatedly toward the sound, but there was nothing there. No one there. He was alone.
But he wasn't.
Eiress looked up, straight at him, like she could see him, although he knew she could not. Her perfect brow creased in concern—concern for him while she fought with the evilest souls on the planet.
"I'm okay," he murmured, like that would help.
It didn't. She continued to frown.
Yeah. He was okay. He was fine. He was just losing his mind, is all. Assuming he'd ever actually been sane, of course.
"I need your help. She needs your help. Please. Please. Please."
And then sobs. Sobs that shook the bathroom mirror on its hinges and knocked his toothpaste off the counter. The very air seemed to break around him, and the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood straight.
It was cold. So, so cold.
He scrambled backward, his hand fumbling for the doorknob, before he escaped the bathroom and ran, like a terrified little kid, to the kitchen and his mom.
"Please help her."
A woman. Definitely a woman, but that was all he could tell from her weak cries.
"Landon? What's wrong?" His mom glanced up from her phone while the sauce burned and the pan started on fire. Setting the phone aside, she hurried to him, feeling his head and cheeks like any good mother would. "You're white as a sheet. Are you sick?"
No. He wasn't sick. He was a great big football player who worked at an antique shop and was in love with a girl in a mirror, and a voice had scared the heck out of him. He couldn't stop shaking, and he couldn't seem to get warm. His mom rubbed her hands briskly up and down his arms, trying to get the blood moving. "You're so cold. Why are you so cold?"
If I told you, you'd never believe me.
"I'm-I'm okay. I just…maybe my blood sugar is low?"
She nodded enthusiastically, like that made perfect sense. "Dinner's almost re—" she trailed off as she turned toward the stove.
They had pizza that night.
And then she insisted he go to bed early, which was the very last thing he wanted to do. He wondered idly if he was too old to sleep on his parents' floor. But when he went to the bathroom to get ready, it felt perfectly fine. No freezing temperatures, no weird voices, no freaky shaking air.
Maybe he really was losing his mind.
Eiress was in her room again, curled up on the bed like a cat, half-heartedly dragging a string across the duvet for Kaida. She sat up as soon as he walked in. "Are you okay?" she asked the mirror. Somehow, she'd figured out that it was connecting them, even if she only saw her reflection. It looked like she was staring right at him, and a few times he had hoped.
But no. She was just super smart, apparently.
"Yeah. I'm fine," he answered, because it seemed rude not to. He would also have asked her if she was okay, but that would just be silly.
They both knew she wasn't.
"I felt—I felt something. Something very cold. I'm worried for you." She blushed, and then dragged the dragon into her lap. "Kaida is, too."
Landon smirked. Sure Kaida was.
But that blush…did that mean…could it mean... Did she feel something for him? Even though she couldn't see him or hear his voice? Did he dare hope?
The color stood out against her pale cheeks, and her lashes swept down. His stomach tied in knots and his hands were instantly clammy.
Holy Hell, she was beautiful.
So.
Heartbreakingly.
Beautiful.
His hands longed to touch her, to brush the bright red hair off her neck, to erase the tears threatening at her lashes.
Still staring shyly at the bed in front of her, the smile across her lips grew.
Crap. She might not be able to hear him, but she could feel every single thing he felt. And
it wasn't like he could backtrack to save face. She couldn't hear him—and emotions? They don't backtrack.
"The ball wasn't so horrendous tonight," she started, fighting to control the grin. "Mary and Elizabeth were…called away twice. I had time to get the gate open earlier and the evil souls were sent to hell before Mary and Elizabeth could save them."
Called away meant someone had done the Bloody Mary trick. He wondered if there would be new princesses at the ball the next night. Or if they'd only left dead bodies behind this time.
Sometimes, Eiress herself went. She went to the mirror and tried to scare whoever was on the other side badly enough that they would never do something so stupid again.
She'd show them images of her dead sister lying on the floor while she'd been pulled in to the mirror, kicking and screaming and absolutely helpless.
"I don't know," she said, as if reading his thoughts. Her hand idly scratched Kaida under the chin. The little dragon preened and stretched his head and then flopped over on his back so she could scratch his tummy. "They were gone for quite a while, but they didn't bring anyone back from the ballroom. I assume the children ran, and the chains held Mary back. So everyone is safe."
Landon was grateful for that. He really was, but having some not-evil company could have brought so much comfort to Eiress's battered soul.
She raised her head and smiled at him. "It is past my bedtime. The moon has almost set. Good night, my friend."
Landon flipped off the light and went into the dark hall. The cold hit him so hard it nearly, nearly knocked him back into the bathroom, but something seemed to grab him and pull. A ghostly hand at the collar of his shirt.
"We have to help her. Please."
EIRESS FELT HIS FEAR, as if from a distance. He was gone from her, but the fear, the fear remained. It swirled through the room and settled in her soul. Her friend, her heart, he was never afraid for himself. He was afraid for her often enough, but today was the first time he'd been afraid for himself.
What was going on in his side of the Isles?
She scratched Kaida's tummy and worried over this boy on the other side of the mirror. Selfishly, she wondered what she would do if he didn't come back. She wasn't sure she could survive this darkness without his light. Even without seeing him, she knew his soul. It was good and kind and brave and fierce. It was so foreign to this land that she wondered what would happen should it ever end up here.
Probably, the whole place would implode and take her with it.
Although she only saw souls in this wretched place, and hardly ever a face, she felt sure that if she ever were to escape and run into the boy on the other side of the mirror, in his world, she would recognize his soul.
One could not miss a soul such as that.
She slid under her covers and Kaida curled around her head, and she closed her eyes tight and daydreamed what it would be like to be in his world. To see his face and hear his voice. She didn't even care what he looked like.
She could barely remember his world. Only bits and pieces, flashes of brilliant love that fought to hold their place in her mind. Her mother's laugh, and her kiss. The feel of her curls and the softness of Eiress's blankie. Sometimes, when she dreamed, she felt her mother's arms around her and she heard her singing, but the memories only came to her when she slept. When she woke, she could only hear the faintest of lullabies, echoing in her head.
The darkness had already chased those memories away, but she held fiercely to the others.
She didn't realize tears were soaking the gray of her pillow until Kaida sniffed and tried to dry them with his nonexistent flame. Hot breath scalded her face and she jerked away, laughing because if not for laughter, she might scream.
And scream.
And never stop.
Clearly, sleep wasn't going to come easily this morning, so she picked up her knitting and worked on Kaida's outfit, humming mindlessly and praying the boy would return.
He didn't.
She whiled away the day watching the nightmares attack wandering souls.
"We've brought a friend for you, Lovey." Elizabeth purred from the doorway. Eiress hadn't even heard her pull the door open.
She was sneaky like that.
Eiress dropped the knitting and bounced to her feet, shielding Kaida from Elizabeth's view. "I thought everyone got away last night."
Elizabeth raised a thin perfect eyebrow. "I thought you'd be happy." She jutted her bottom lip out and pouted, her eyes sparking with barely concealed hate. "We just got her. A stupid, helpless girl just like you."
"Can I see her? Where are you holding her?"
"No. I haven't decided what I'm going to do with her yet. I just wanted you to know." Her smile widened and she wiped just a trace of blood from her lip.
Eiress gasped, stumbling backward.
Laughing, Elizabeth skipped away.
Eiress sank onto the bed, her heart cracking. A new princess. Eiress had to find her. Protect her. Somehow, she could save this one. She had to.
She rolled her eyes to the mirror. "Dear friend. What do I do?"
He wasn't there. Still.
Somewhere in the castle, someone screamed.
Luckily, the screaming distracted her from worries over him. Apparently, the new princess wasn't adjusting well.
At all.
Eiress glanced at Kaida, who slept, and though she was loath to leave her mirrors in case her friend returned, she had to do something about the wails that nearly shook the castle walls. She wished she could leave a message—to tell him she worried, that she would be right back. She wished so much…
She had a gruesome idea, but desperate times…
Picking up her knitting needle, she dug it into the tip of her finger. It hurt, but not much, not compared to the rest of her life. She snatched up her white duvet and traced her finger along its pristine whiteness.
Luckily for her, Mary hated her princesses to be worthless. She demanded they be taught arithmetic and reading and any other knowledge new princesses brought with them. She was a harsh task masker, though. Eiress had lost much blood trying to learn to write her own name.
The memories of Mary's laughter while she tore at Eiress's skin still brought chills to her spine.
She shoved that memory away and gnawed on her lip, wondering what to write. How to start, even. Dear Boy I do not know? That didn't sound very friendly. Dear Boy? That…just sounded strange. And what to include? I'm going to stop the screaming just sounded frightening. I've been worried sick over you, but I'm forced to leave the mirror, and don't know when I'll be back. Also, I think I'm in love with your soul and I would sell my own to hear your voice.
Umm. Yes, probably not.
I will return. Please wait for me.
There. Very eloquent.
The sheer panic in the screaming increased, and fearing Elizabeth had gotten her claws into their newest princess, Eiress picked up her skirts and ran.
It wasn't often that she left her chambers during the day, or at all, actually, except when she was forced to attend the nightly ball. The weak sun cast more shadows than it dispelled over the faces immortalized in their horror, carved into the molding as they were. It brought them to life, until their screams joined with the princess's. Eiress dropped her skirts and covered her ears, slippered feet slapping horrifically against the black wood floors. She would have squeezed her eyes shut tight, too, if she hadn't been afraid of running into a wall.
Her breaths came in short, terrified pants by the time she'd fled down from her tower, through the entryway of the castle, and up into the opposite tower. Thankfully, she couldn't be heard over the screaming.
And of course, as always, there were the chains.
She hardly noticed them anymore, She'd worn them for so long, but when running, they held her wrists back, like they knew she was trying to do good, and were desperately trying to stop her. They rattled and tore at skin and tangled in her long skirts, but she jerked free and ran harder, up and up
and up the winding staircase until she finally skidded to a stop outside the thick, black door.
This one had bars over the windows and a heavy lock on the handle. Eiress's did not.
She jerked on the door, pulling for all she was worth, but that stupid lock wouldn't budge.
I need a key. I need a key. I need a KEY!
No key magically appeared, but the door in front of her burst open, tearing from the bottom hinge, hanging awkwardly and smoking.
She froze.
On the other side of the door, the screaming faltered.
Thank goodness for that, at least.
She shoved the remains of the door open, expecting blood-spattered walls and torn, broken bodies. She'd seen worse in her years with Elizabeth.
But there was nothing except a girl, younger than herself, standing at the window.
Eiress frowned, chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath, thinking half-crazily that she might want to strangle this new princess. The girl's soul swirled in viciousness, with barely any light at all, and terror nearly overwhelmed the girl's heart completely. Eiress, for the life of her, could not figure out what there was to be so frightened of.
And then she remembered.
The castle. The Damned. Mary. Elizabeth. This life.
And then she realized more—the new princess was staring out the window at the nightmares.
"Hello," Eiress said, holding her position at the door.
She turned, eyes wide and face pale, but not as pale as Eiress. "Who are you?"
Eiress sighed. "I'm the Princess of the Damned."
A PALE HAND FLASHED ACROSS HIS face. "We have to help her. Please help her."
Landon didn't remember screaming, but apparently he had been panicked enough to drive the voice and the cold away and bring both his parents running.