Crown of Glass Page 7

  The awe and fascination in his voice reminded her of better days. It was infectious. Jenna might have easily learned to hate her bad luck for being born with a magic that had crippled her so early in life… but Gabe’s sense of wonder reminded her how precious it was to be a part of that world.

  No matter how dangerous it is, she thought, he was always drawn to it. And why wouldn’t he be? It’s something he thought he could never have.

  The cityscape wasn’t quite New York City. Pieces were stitched together oddly, so that as they walked, they quickly came upon the Met. The museum rose before them, even taller and grander than Jenna remembered it. The building’s lights were out, but the doors yawned wide open.

  The entrance hall’s ticket counter was empty. Where Jenna remembered a large vase of flowers, there was instead an immense tree that stretched all the way from the floor to the high-vaulted ceiling above. Its branches spread like wooden fingers there — fanning their way outward and dripping metallic silver leaves across the marble floor. The mosaic at their feet was framed in blue instead of yellow, and its geometric lines made shapes that Jenna had never seen before.

  Jenna picked up one of the leaves on the ticket counter, rubbing her fingers over it. It felt like a real leaf, for all that it glinted in the darkness.

  “Does someone come by to water this thing or what?” she muttered.

  Gabe flicked a leaf idly off the counter. “That would make too much sense,” he said. “It just appeared one day. It grows sometimes when I’m not looking.” He shrugged. “I think this place reacts to outside influences from the real world. I can’t always tell what’s influencing things, but a little bit after I first got here, I started finding copies of places I knew. I don’t think they were here before that.”

  They came out into a familiar room then, and Jenna found herself with a strange sense of déjà vu.

  Tall windows stretched from floor to ceiling down the room’s left hand side, glimmering in the moonlight. Water trickled down the walls, running like tiny rivers past their feet. Strange exhibits no mortal hand had ever touched stood upon pedestals, littering the room.

  The windows, Jenna realized, were not windows — they were shining mirrors of burnished silver. The true Looking Glass had peeked through the realm’s façade here.

  Gabe helped her sit down against one of the exhibits. He paused, looking intently at his own reflection in the mirror. As Jenna watched, she slowly realized that his reflection was out-of-sync with him. The Gabe in the mirror had fixed his eyes on her.

  “Whatever you did worked, I think,” Gabe said. “The fever’s gone.” He wasn’t talking to Jenna.

  “Whatever I did worked,” said Gabe’s reflection. His voice was calm, but it came out distorted, as though from behind the mirror.

  Jenna stared.

  “I don’t think you’ve been introduced, er. Properly.” Gabe glanced sideways at her. “This is Jenna. Jenna… this is the Lord of the Looking Glass.”

  The other Gabe arched one eyebrow. “Properly introduced,” he said.

  “What… the hell?” Jenna said blankly.

  The other Gabe grinned and leaned forward, peering at her through the mirror. “What?” he said mockingly. The voice that echoed back this time was her own.

  Jenna looked at the real Gabe, next to her. “That’s really him?” she asked.

  Gabe settled down next to her on one knee — he took her by the chin, and directed her eyes just past the faerie lord in the mirror. Behind the other Gabe, she saw a tall glass throne, its entire surface covered with fine spiderweb cracks.

  “I guess it is,” Jenna mumbled. She refocused her attention on the other Gabe. “Does he always look like that?”

  Gabe rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Yeah,” he said. “It took me a long time to realize it, but I technically met him a long time before… what happened.” His eyes darted away from her. “I’m pretty sure he was there at the museum every time I visited.”

  “Every time,” the other Gabe confirmed confidently. The faerie lord’s eyes still burned into Jenna. She shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware of the power that swelled on the other side of that glass.

  “I’m guessing he doesn’t say anything on his own,” she observed.

  “He doesn’t,” the faerie lord told her, in her own echoed voice.

  Jenna knitted her brow. “That is… so weird,” she muttered.

  “You’re telling me,” Gabe said. He ran his fingers back through his silvery hair. “Conversations are a bitch.”

  “You’re telling me,” the faerie lord repeated. Gabe’s voice sounded a bit more exasperated on the words.

  Jenna eyed the creature consideringly. “…you fixed what was going wrong with me,” she said. “Permanently?”

  The other Gabe tapped at his chin thoughtfully. “Wrong,” Jenna’s voice said back to her.

  “…I’m wrong that you fixed me?” Jenna tried. “Or I’m wrong that it’s permanent?”

  The faerie lord beamed at her, pleased that she’d caught onto the conversational pattern. “Wrong that it’s permanent,” her voice offered.

  Her heart sank, and she realized that she’d allowed herself a moment of unwise hope. “What is wrong? Can you tell me?”

  The other Gabe shrugged helplessly. “Tell me,” he said, gesturing in her direction.

  Gabe eyed his own reflection. “It has something to do with her magic,” he offered. “It flares up sometimes, and goes out of control.”

  “Her magic,” the faerie lord mused. “…something has it.”

  Jenna blinked. “What does that mean?”

  The faerie lord waited patiently, and Gabe took the cue. “Something external is messing with her magic,” he tried. “Is it something, or someone?”

  The Lord of the Looking Glass turned his attention to Gabe. His glass-green eyes flickered with silver light. “It is something,” he said softly. “It is someone.”

  A strange shiver passed through the air between Gabe and his patron. Jenna saw a flash of emotion cross Gabe’s features — fear, panic, something else she couldn’t quite understand. The silver light in the mirror brightened though, and that distant, placid expression smoothed over Gabe’s face, wiping away the emotion.

  “…I should get you back in bed, Jen,” Gabe said.

  Jenna glanced at him sharply. “I don’t need to be in bed!” she told him. “He knows what’s wrong with me, Gabe, I need to keep talking to him—”

  “Wrong with Gabe,” interrupted the Lord of the Looking Glass.

  The real Gabe had one hand to his face. His fingers were shaking. The magic that had washed away his awareness of the moment still worked quietly, pressing itself against whatever conflict the faerie lord’s revelations had engendered in him.

  Jenna whipped her gaze back toward the figure in the mirror.

  “So fix him!” she said furiously. “You’re a goddamned faerie lord, and he’s your warlock! If anyone should be able to help him, it’s you!”

  Imperious, glassy eyes settled upon her calmly. “So fix him,” Jenna’s own voice said to her. “If anyone should be able to help him, it’s you.”

  The words sent a chill down her spine.

  “I think… I’m not feeling so great myself,” Gabe murmured. A hint of distress had seeped into his voice again.

  Jenna pressed her lips together.

  After years of searching, answers were right there, just within her grasp. What if one more question was all it took? What if it was all fixable, if her life could be normal—

  But Gabe was so damned pale. He was strong enough to lift her like a kitten, but he looked so fragile and bewildered just now. He’s on the verge of breaking, Jenna thought with a sinking feeling. He should be broken. This magic is just a coping mechanism. No matter how unhealthy it is, it’s still keeping him together.

  Jenna forced herself up to her feet. Slowly, she reached out to wrap her arms around Gabe.

  He breathed in, holding on
to her tightly. He pressed his forehead to her hair again, shivering.

  “…I’m sorry,” Gabe whispered. “I need to be better than this. You need…”

  Jenna’s heart shattered in her chest.

  “Stop worrying about what I need,” she told him thickly. “You need things too.”

  Gabe’s arms tightened on her. “I did something bad to you,” he said. “I know I did, Jen. It’s really… piecemeal. Like someone punched a bunch of holes in my memory. I know it was bad. I know you can’t forgive me. But I don’t remember why.”

  Jenna closed her eyes.

  Her father’s body slumped on the floor, his blue eyes wide and glassy and staring. Gabe stood over him with a blank, considering expression. Shards of glass scattered across the floor where the large mirror near the door had shattered.

  “Gabe,” Jenna whispered, horrified. “What have you… what did you…”

  Gabe glanced her way, sliding his hands into his pockets. His eyes were wrong. His hair was wrong. His expression was so, so wrong. “I killed him,” he said, with all the ease of someone discussing the weather outside. “You should be careful, Jen. You’re going to cut your foot.”

  “It doesn’t matter right now,” Jenna said hoarsely.

  But of course, it did. And of course, it always would.

  Chapter 6

  “Delivery for two.”

  Gabe swept through the door to Jenna’s bedroom, takeout in hand. All suggestion of his previous nervous breakdown seemed to have disappeared in the time it had taken him to tuck Jenna back into bed and search out some dinner.

  His eyes sparkled with familiar humor as he settled himself down on the edge of her bed. “Guess what I found?”

  Jenna had been watching him with a careful, closed-off expression — but as she glanced down at the stapled brown takeout bag in his hands, she blinked. “Is that…”

  “Pork dumplings from New Seoul,” Gabe replied triumphantly. He handed the bag over to her. “I’ll let you do the honors.”

  Jenna knitted her brow as she tore open the paper bag. The unmistakable scent of her favorite meal wafted up toward her. The plastic containers inside could have been straight from her memories. “This place is closed,” she said, flabbergasted. “Didn’t they sell the building to a souvenir shop or something?”

  Gabe plucked two sets of chopsticks from inside the bag, handing one over to her. “I told you the Looking Glass reacts to outside forces,” he said. “New Seoul is just down the street from us now. I bet it showed up when I brought you here, the same way your bedroom did.”

  Jenna flinched. “So this is… faerie food?” she asked carefully.

  Gabe frowned at her. “Well, yes,” he said. “Inasmuch as it showed up in faerie, I guess.”

  Jenna didn’t meet his eyes. “I can’t eat this, Gabe,” she said. “Even if it doesn’t do anything weird to me, it could still trap me here.”

  Gabe hesitated over his chopsticks. “…I wouldn’t give you something that could hurt you,” he said.

  “You would never intentionally hurt me,” Jenna said softly, echoing his previous sentiment. She let the words linger in the air.

  Gabe reached out to twine his fingers through hers. Her traitorous heart sped up at his touch. “You really need to eat something,” he told her gently. “If I went and got something from the real world… would you trust me enough to accept it?”

  Jenna tightened her fingers on his. Don’t go. The words stuck on her tongue. She nodded thickly instead.

  “Please promise me you won’t leave,” Gabe said. “The Lord of the Looking Glass still hasn’t told me what you’re in danger from, but I know you’re safe as long as you stay here.” He pressed his other hand to hers. “I know you can leave, Jen. And I’m not going to trap you here. But please give me a chance to figure things out.”

  Jenna took a breath. “My life isn’t going to just wait,” she said. “I’ve got classes, adjunct work. A job. If I stay here with you for more than a day or two, I’ll lose everything I’ve built up for myself.”

  Gabe released her hand reluctantly. His warmth lingered on her palm.

  “I think I can handle that,” said Gabe. “If you let me.”

  He gestured at the wall to her right. Slowly, the old yellowing paint there began to turn transparent and glassy. The burnished silver of the Looking Glass showed through, and she found herself looking at a reflection of them both.

  Gabe took her hand, guiding it gently toward the glass. As her palm touched the surface, a surge of dizzying power swept over her… and her reflection in the mirror tilted its head.

  Glassy fingers closed upon hers. Another Jenna stepped free from the mirror. Out of sheer instinct, Jenna helped her reflection off the bed and onto her feet.

  The other Jenna brushed herself off, inspecting her clothing with a tiny frown. The strange mirror image paused though, as she caught sight of the dumplings still sitting on the bed. A delighted grin crossed her face.

  “You gonna eat that?” she asked Jenna.

  Jenna shook her head, wide-eyed. The other Jenna snatched up the extra pair of chopsticks, and began to dig into the dumplings with relish.

  “Gabe,” Jenna said. “That’s… a fetch. Like, a perfect copy. I thought your patron barely taught you anything.”

  Gabe frowned. “He really hasn’t,” he said. “For obvious reasons. But I’ve had a lot of time to experiment here on my own. I sent one or two of them out into the real world, and it didn’t seem to do any harm. I’m pretty sure that one could hold up for a week or so, as long as nothing too crazy happens.”

  Jenna bit her lip. “This is exceptionally weird, Gabe,” she said. “I’m watching myself eat dumplings.”

  Gabe blinked. “Is it weird?” he asked. “I guess it is. I wouldn’t know anymore. I spend an awful lot of time having whole conversations with myself these days.”

  I guess you would, Jenna thought to herself. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with some kind of magical artificial intelligence living my life for me,” she said slowly.

  “Life isn’t comfortable,” the other Jenna told her with a wry grin. “Something might be after you. Would you rather go home with a big bulls-eye on your chest, or should it be me?”

  Jenna scrunched up her nose as she eyed herself. “You’re not going to hurt anyone?” she said warily.

  The other Jenna held up a solemn hand. “Scout’s honor,” she promised. “…is what I’d say if I was gonna cheat you. We never—”

  “—joined the scouts,” Jenna finished for her. “Yeah.”

  The other Jenna beamed at her, and shoved her glasses up onto her nose. “I’ve been made with strict parameters,” she said. “I can’t harm intelligent creatures.” She paused. “It’s a good thing you’re not dating Josh anymore. I’m not sure he’d count.”

  Jenna’s mouth dropped open. She shot a dirty look at Gabe, who quickly held up his hands. “I had her take her blueprint from you,” he protested.

  “You never liked Josh,” Jenna grumbled at Gabe.

  “You didn’t really like him either,” the other Jenna said apologetically, through a mouthful of dumpling. “You were just feeling lonely and jealous because Gabe was dating—”

  Jenna shoved to her feet and slapped a hand across the fetch’s mouth. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed. She shot a wild look at Gabe. “Can you change her so she stops spilling embarrassing stories about me?”

  He blinked, clearly taken aback by the fetch’s behavior. “Oh, um. Yeah, I’ll… tweak that.”

  Jenna sank back down onto the bed, her face still flaming red.

  Gabe’s power flared again. There was a delicacy to it, Jenna noted — he was just as methodical and detail-oriented with his magic as he was with everything else he put his hand to. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, unsettled by the revelation. Maybe it was selfish, but she’d always taken a little bit of comfort from the fact that she had just one thing that Gabe never would. He
was so good at everything else, so naturally talented and funny and popular, that it would really just be unfair for him to have magic too.

  The fetch’s eyes were still glowing with an odd silver light as it turned to look at Jenna, though they quickly faded back to their normal hazel color. “Okay,” said the other Jenna. “I won’t tell him.” She smiled. “But you should.”

  Jenna shook her head uncomfortably. “You know why I’m not going to,” she replied. She turned her attention to Gabe. “Fine. One week, Gabe. If you can’t figure out what’s going on by then though, you’ve got to take me back home.”

  I need to fix you too, Jenna thought with a sigh. I can’t do that and keep juggling my life right now.

  Gabe had been looking at the fetch with puzzlement, but that expression melted away now into abject relief. “One week,” he agreed.

  He looked at the fetch, and gestured politely for the door. The other Jenna pursed her lips. “Fine,” she said. She snatched up the last container of dumplings. “I’m taking these with me, though.”

  “Right,” said Gabe. He looked a bit flummoxed by the other Jenna’s emphatic attitude, but he quickly adjusted. “I’ll be back,” he told Jenna, over the fetch’s shoulder. “Just… get some rest, all right?”

  Jenna watched the two of them depart, with a last glum look at the dumplings. Gabe closed the door gently behind him… and her stomach growled.

  “No,” she told herself firmly. “You are not gonna be a stupid cautionary faerie tale. Trapped in Arcadia by pork dumplings — you’d never live it down.”

  Jenna turned back toward the portion of the Looking Glass that Gabe had summoned from her bedroom wall. It had already begun to fade back into yellowing paint… but as Jenna opened her Witchsight curiously, she saw the mirrored surface of the Looking Glass once again, refracting the light of borrowed memories and impressions.

  It’s a lot like my magic, come to think of it, Jenna realized. The Looking Glass was more reactive though, and far less human — Gabe’s guess that it couldn’t create anything of its own was probably right on the money.