Chapter 20
Jess
We regrouped again in my room. My legs felt like they were made of wet cardboard. I shut the door and leaned against it, staring at the flamingo mirror propped in the corner. Its crack was dull now, the faint hum gone.
I’d been so close. I’d seen him, the real Nate.
His eyes had found mine through the glass, his hands pressed against the same spot as mine.
For a second, it had felt like pulling him through was possible.
Like maybe the nightmare was about to be over.
And then, gone. Ripped away before I could even say his name.
The hollow ache in my chest didn’t feel like just missing him, it was worse. Like I’d been holding my breath for hours, waiting for something that never came.
Somewhere down the hall, I heard my mother moving around, the clink of dishes, and the faint hiss of running water.
She had no idea what had just happened in the auditorium.
She couldn’t. If she even suspected I’d been messing with unstable magic again, I’d be grounded until I was thirty and the flamingo mirror would be ‘accidentally’ donated to the thrift store.
Another sound drifted up; a dull click followed by a muttered curse.
I didn’t have to see it to know she was still fighting with the coffee maker.
The one I’d blown up yesterday in a glitter-coffee disaster.
The one that almost gave me what I wanted before backfiring spectacularly. Just like tonight.
I clenched my fists. That stupid machine was a perfect metaphor for my entire week — so close to working, then ending in a mess I had to clean up. But I wasn’t tossing Nate’s life in the trash with the broken appliance. Not when I had another shot.
Bianca flopped into my desk chair, kicking at a pile of laundry like it had personally offended her. “Well, that sucked.”
“Thanks for the recap,” I muttered, peeling a streamer off my jacket. The peach-gold gloss sat on my desk, looking way too innocent for the trouble it had caused.
Raven hopped onto the windowsill, feathers puffed up like he’d been caught in the windstorm with us, which, he had. “It was a strong plan,” he said. “Wrong place.”
Bianca spun the chair to face him. “You told us the auditorium was the strongest seam.”
“It is,” Raven said. “Strength isn’t everything. The pull was unstable, the warding lines in the floor are old. That’s why it snapped before you could finish.”
I dropped onto the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight, and for a second, I let myself imagine staying there, letting the whole fight wash past me. But the image of Nate fading out, for real, forever burned through the temptation—I wasn’t done. Not even close.
“So, what, we just wait for Nate to send me a postcard from the Mirror Realm?” I said.
“No,” Raven said. “We try again. But somewhere that doesn’t tear itself apart halfway through.”
Bianca started ticking options off on her fingers. “What about the library mirror?”
“Too many protections,” Raven said. “You’d be lucky to get a ripple in the glass.”
“The one in the gym?”
“Too weak. You’d drag him halfway through and he’d stick there like bad taffy.”
We went through every seam we’d found over the last week. One by one, Raven shot them down. Finally, he said, “There’s one you haven’t considered. The old storeroom in the science wing.”
Bianca raised an eyebrow. “The one they keep locked because it’s full of asbestos and broken lab equipment?”
“That’s the one.”
I frowned. “Why would that work?”
Raven hopped down onto my desk, claws clicking on the wood.
“It’s a small space. Contained. There’s an old prep mirror in there from when the chemistry teacher used to check for fumes on her clothes before leaving.
It’s been sitting in the dark for decades, right against a seam.
Nobody’s reinforced it, nobody’s touched it.
That makes it raw, dangerous, but steady. ”
Bianca’s grin was slow and wicked. “So, asbestos-chic and creepy. Perfect.”
I looked at the peach-gold gloss, then at Raven. “If we do this, it has to work. I don’t want to get close again and lose him.”
Raven’s head tilted, eyes sharp. “Then we make sure the next plan has no weaknesses. Smaller space, stronger containment, and layers of it.” He hopped onto the table, pacing as he rattled it off.
“Double salt rings, one tight around the seam, one wider so we have a fallback. Iron filings at every gap. Mirrors faced inward to keep him trapped in his own reflections. Sigils on the floor, burning rosemary and rue at all exits, and a ward echo spell to double everything if the first layer cracks.”
Bianca blinked. “So, basically, a magical panic room with style?”
Raven hopped closer to her and dropped a small muslin pouch into her lap. “Salt. Keep it on you. If anything slips past Jess, throw it, and for the love of magic, don’t miss.”
She picked it up, shaking it once like it might rattle, then smirked. “Guess I’m armed and fabulous. You do realize I’m getting, like, five blog posts out of this, right? Maybe a special subscription tier for ‘near-death magical drama.’”
Raven didn’t even look at her. “Make sure they tip.”
He turned to me, hopping down onto my desk. “Give me your hands.”
I held them out, palms up. He gripped a slim quill carved from one of his own shed feathers in his beak, its tip dipped in shimmering silver ink that smelled of rosemary.
Carefully, he sketched quick, sharp lines across my skin, protection sigils, the kind that shimmer faintly when they catch the light.
They tingled against my skin, warm at first, then cooling to something steadier.
“You’re letting him doodle on you with his spit,” Bianca said, half-laughing.
“It’s enchanted ink,” Raven said without looking up. “Also, my saliva has better magical conductivity than yours.”
“So what? It’s still spit,” she muttered.
“You’ll need these,” he continued, setting the quill aside. “And bring every single tube of hexed lip gloss you’ve got. We’re not leaving loose magic lying around for him to use against you.”
“Even the peach one?” I asked.
“Especially the peach one,” Raven said flatly.
I sighed. “At least asbestos can’t try to flirt with me.”
Raven gave me a look. “Don’t be so sure.”
Another cupboard door closed in the kitchen, sharper this time.
My mother was getting closer. If she knocked right now, she’d see Bianca, Raven, the mirror, and a mess of magical supplies that screamed about how I’d learned nothing from last time.
I pushed the glosses into a drawer and nudged the flamingo mirror just out of sight, telling myself I’d find the right words later. If there were any.
Tonight, I promised myself. Tonight, we tried again and this time, I wasn’t letting go.