but the Rose Room remained cheerful, light from the windows brightening the space. The mirror nabbed her attention. It was the same mirror, Marissa was certain of it. But instead of the small, hanging mirror, it was now long enough for a person to step through. How is this possible? The glittering reflection drew her closer. She reached her finger to touch the glass, but fell into it instead.
She fell through the glass, falling to her knees on hard cobbles of stone. She gasped with pain. A man standing at a large table froze, looking in her direction. Marissa couldn’t move, but his glance passed over her as though he could not see her. It was King Doorin.
Marissa skirted back until she touched the wall. It was a large room with lots of books. Piles of books spread across the table except where a large empty picture frame lay. There were vials of things as well. Glass containers with dark liquids were stored on shelves beside a fireplace. A few stools sat beneath the table. King Doorin pulled one to him, sitting as he drew his finger across lines of writing in an oversized book open in front of him.
What am I doing here? Marissa looked around, but there were no Guardians. A young man entered holding a tray with three containers of sand. Marissa knew it was sand, and yet, it was unlike sand she had seen before. Faceted sides of each grain glittered, even though there was no source of light. Marissa watched him drop the tray onto the table.
“Watch yourself,” Doorin rested a hand against a jar of sand and then backhanded the young man. The boy staggered back and made as if to turn and leave. Doorin caught his arm. “Pour the sand into the frame.”
The young man had to climb on the table to reach the large frame made of white oak. He knelt beside the frame, picking up the first large container of sand as he looked to Doorin. “Just pour it?”
“Fill the inside of the frame with the sand.” Doorin remained at the end of the table, watching. The young man poured the sand from the container, moving back and forth. When he emptied the first container, he picked up the second. When he finished with the third container of sand, Doorin moved. The young man was still stretched over the frame, reaching across to fill the last few spaces on the far side with sand. Doorin pushed, and the young man fell, elbow and forearms dragging through the sand.
The grunt of complaint stopped in an instant. There was silence, but Marissa could feel tension growing throughout the room. A high-pitched screech emanated from the young man as the sand took form and oozed over him, burning with its touch. The glittering particles turned red. Marissa wrapped her arms around her head, curling herself as small as she could get. Her body shook.
The scene changed. A woman wearing a yellow gown crouched beside her. Reaching through to touch her cheeks, the woman lifted Marissa’s face. “You do not belong here. Withdraw from Cinderella’s room in the palace this instant. Search no further. You have what you need. Now go.”
Marissa was standing, staggering back from the mirror which had turned black. Still shaking, she lifted her skirts and ran.
Mrs. Boyde caught her up. “My dear girl, what were you thinking?”
Marissa couldn’t speak. She wrapped her arms tight as she could around Mrs. Boyde, sobbing.
“Come, let us get away from this space.” Mrs. Boyde led her through the portrait gallery.
Marissa halted in front of the image of Robert’s mother. The woman’s sweet face brought calm. Robert had her eyes. She stared into them. Mrs. Boyde remained at her side. Marissa drew a deep breath, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
“King Doorin was evil.”
Mrs. Boyde kept an arm around Marissa’s shoulders. “Is that what you saw?”
Marissa nodded. “It was a room in the keep. He killed a man. More than one. The mirror—”
“Don’t speak of it here. I called to the Guardians of the past, and they pulled you out. Cinderella will not know you were in her room.”
“I thought we needed the other slipper as well. It was the most logical place for it.”
“If the other slipper remains with her in the palace, Cinderella would have known as soon as she laid eyes upon a fake. No, we have the one that works against Robert. And we have you.”
The anguished voice of