Reflection

25

"We really can't stay long," Adam said as Andromeda handed him a cup of tea. Her house, though small, was cozy and warm, with a kitchen and an adjoining living room from which a hall led to a few bedrooms and a bathroom. A fire burned at the hearth, casting eerie shadows throughout the living room, where we sat on the couch and chairs.

Andromeda was sitting on a rocking chair, James and Ellie on the couch, and I sat uncomfortably next to Adam on the love seat. "I understand," Andromeda said, "but do you mind telling me what happened?"

Adam sighed, leaning into the soft cushions. "It's a long story."

Andromeda folded her legs up onto the seat and took a sip out of her own cup, looking at him through expectant blue eyes. "I've got time."

So Adam launched into the story of meeting me and traveling to the castle, leaving nothing out. My dad looked intrigued, and I realized that this was probably the first time he'd heard the whole story, too. Andromeda was a good listener—she nodded and payed attention the whole time.

When Adam got to the part about being captured, he looked to me to tell my side of the story, but I just shook my head and fiddled with my fingers. "James can tell it better than I can."

Excitedly, James seized the opportunity and explained his side of the story. I had become so involved in my fingers, it startled me when Adam's hand closed gently over mine. He traced over the back of my hand with his thumb, listening to James intently as if he wasn't aware of what he was doing. But I knew he was, and I was thankful for it.

Resisting the urge to curl into his side, I tried to pay attention to what James was saying. He was finishing, I realized, and Andromeda was looking at me. "Wow," she said. "You guys have been through a lot."

She set her tea down on the coffee table. "How can I help you get home? Do you just need to borrow my mirror?"

"Actually," said Adam, and hesitated. "Scarlett's dad is human. We can't get him through the portal without—"

"Oh, no," said Andromeda, shaking her head violently. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, but you know I don't do magic anymore. You can stay here if you want, find someone else in the morning—"

"Andromeda, please. There's no one else we can go to. I mean, look at us! Besides," he added, "it's just one spell."

Andromeda gnawed anxiously on her lower lip, examining our ripped and bloody clothes. "Very well," she said at last, with a sigh. "Would you like to shower and change first?"

Before anyone else could answer, Samuel spoke up. "Thank you for the hospitality," he said, "but I'd like to go home now, and my daughter and I need to have a long discussion about her life choices."

I winced a little, avoiding his eyes.

Andromeda nodded, rising to her feet. "Of course. Follow me."

She led us down the short corridor and into a small room containing a tall, oval-shaped mirror. Beside the mirror was a day bed, and light streamed through a small square window above it. Specks of dust floated around the empty room, adding a sort of fairytale-like wonder to the scene. In fact, everything about this place seemed to have climbed out a fairytale. The coziness of the cabin, the dancing fire in the hearth, the blue cloak Andromeda wore, the small room with the mirror and the big leather book.

Andromeda plopped down on the day bed, sitting cross-legged. She reached underneath the bed and pulled out a thick, leather-bound book that puffed clouds of dust when she dropped it on her lap. She opened it, coughing.

"Told you I haven't used magic in a while," she said, grinning sheepishly at Adam, who returned the grin. They had the same smile, I observed: both a dazzling flash of perfect, pearl-white teeth. Andromeda began flipping through the book. "This might take a while," she warned us.