Chapter 47
A FUNHOUSE OF MIRRORS
Every year between Christmas and New Years, the fairgrounds are transformed into a holiday postcard.
Garland winds around the light posts, wreaths hang from wooden stall fronts, and icicle lights dangle from trees.
A bluegrass band plays winter-worn folk songs.
Steam rises from big iron pots of cider and cocoa, and the air smells of candied chestnuts and fried dough.
People bundled in coats and scarves crowd the thoroughfare, playing games, visiting booths, or buying tickets for the main attractions, which include a Ferris wheel, a Tilt-A-Whirl, a carousal, a funhouse of mirrors, and a skating pond, in the center of which stands a massive evergreen strung with twinkling lights and strands of cranberries.
This year, the festivities are under surveillance.
Officers patrol the main strip. Others station themselves at the entrances and exits.
I spot a man in street clothes near the cider stand.
He isn’t watching the band, but the crowd—his gaze moving in a slow, deliberate sweep.
Every now and then, he touches his ear and mutters to himself.
An FBI agent, I think. Which is no surprise.
Mayor Ridley said the feds would be here.
I stand in line for the funhouse with Harper and Naomi.
A couple groups ahead, Lainey talks animatedly with Brynn Alcott, as though trying very hard to cheer her up.
As Caleb’s girlfriend, she’s been in mourning.
This is the first time I’ve seen her out and about with dry eyes.
And she’s with Lainey Sikes. Harper, Naomi, and I are keeping tabs on them while Twig and Jude keep tabs on Griffin.
We were supposed to stick together. This was one of Mrs. Calloway’s precautionary rules.
No wandering off. And please, stay together.
The problem is, Lainey and Griffin split up, which forced us to do the same.
“What is he doing here?” Naomi asks, her breath clouding as she hunches her shoulders against the cold. She’s looking at Rafe, who loiters near the Ferris Wheel.
I make eye contact and immediately regret it.
He smiles mischievously, like he’s trying to get a rise out of me.
The muscles in my jaw tighten. I don’t like things that don’t make sense, and lately, Rafe Vandenberg makes none.
I know people aren’t all good or all bad.
Humanity isn’t so black and white. But it’s pretty confounding that someone with such a sinister past has suddenly made it his mission to keep me alive.
I lift my chin and face forward. “Just ignore him.”
Harper bounces on her toes. “I don’t understand what we’re supposed to do if Lainey does something,” she whispers.
“Send out an SOS,” Naomi whispers back.
Via our tracking app. The five of us are connected with emergency alerts activated. If any one of us push the SOS button, everyone will be notified.
Harper continues bouncing, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her winter coat. “And then what—spray her with the mace Jake got me for Christmas?”
“I brought the onyx,” I say. Ever since my little run-in with the mimic, I haven’t left home without it. “If Lainey tries anything, I’ll use it against her.”
We shuffle forward in line as the attendant invites Lainey and Brynn into the maze.
Naomi pulls out her phone. “I’m going to let Twig know we’re about to go in.”
“I don’t love this plan,” Harper mutters, fidgeting nervously.
I can hardly blame her.
Of all the attractions here at the fair, this one is the most unsettling.
Mirrors have a long-standing association with the uncanny—harbingers of bad luck, a trap for dead souls, a portal between worlds—and we’re about to enter a maze full of them.
I wrap my gloved hand lightly around the onyx in my pocket, careful not to apply undo pressure.
If any evil entities show up, we have a way to fight back.
Laughter echoes inside the labyrinth.
The pimply-faced attendant takes our tickets and unhooks the stanchion.
I start bouncing like Harper, eager to get inside, eager to locate Lainey as quickly as possible.
But as we step into the dark, narrow corridor, we are quickly lost in distorted, endless reflections.
I walk with my hands outstretched, unsure if I’m about to turn a corner or bump into a mirror when my forearm begins to prickle.
A giddy squeal cuts through the air.
It sounds like Brynn.
“In here,” Harper says, pulling me along.
We step inside a room that makes everything flip upside down—a trick of the giant mirror in front of us.
A wave of dizziness washes over me.
“Whoa,” Harper says.
Naomi comes into the room behind us, her phone’s flashlight beaming ahead. It hits the mirror and shines into my retina.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
The ground tilts under my feet.
A searing heat ravages my arm and I am overcome with a hunger so acute, it’s painful.
It thrums like a heartbeat.
It thrums like their souls.
I want.
I need.
To feed.
But I must wait.
I need two more.
And the girl.
A vision of myself, standing in this upside-down room, flashes so hot and sharp my eyes fly open.
But I am not in an upside down room. I am standing on a bridge looking at a pond, its surface glittering like starlight.
The stone plinth in its center is swallowed by red, thorny vines that wrap around a familiar clock.
They crawl out of the water, winding around bodies positioned along the bank—prisoners hovering like frozen tableaus.
The vines have burrowed inside their chests, where a glowing orb pulses like a heartbeat, casting ominous light along their slacken faces.
Sienna.
Emma.
Caleb.
Brady.
Lola.
The hiker with the port-wine birthmark, Juniper Vale.
And beside her, Ivy Winslow.
With a sharp intake of breath, the vision vanishes. I awake on my back inside the maze of mirrors with Naomi and Harper bent over me, calling my name in panicked voices, like I’ve been unconscious for a concerning length of time.
My heart judders as I blink several times.
“What happened?” Harper asks, grabbing my clammy hand. “Are you okay?”
“I’m sending out an SOS,” Naomi says.
I try to tell her no.
I try to say I’m fine.
I try to sit up so we can get to Lainey.
But when I move, a wave of nausea lurches up my throat.
I think I’m going to be sick.
Outside the maze, I get sick in a garbage can. I brace my hands against my knees while the world spins.
“Ivy is alive,” I mutter.
But Harper and Naomi aren’t listening.
They’re too busy ushering me off the beaten path, behind a row of stalls toward a picnic table secluded from the crowd. Naomi tells me to sit down and unzip my coat. Maybe getting some cold air on my neck will chase the nausea away.
Rafe strides around the stalls toward us. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Naomi replies curtly. “She just got a little dizzy.”
I plunk my elbows on my knees and cup my forehead.
Harper sets her hand on my back.
Rafe comes closer. He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts my face up to the moonlight. “She’s white as a ghost.”
“She collapsed,” Harper says.
“Harper,” Naomi scolds. “We have this under control.”
“Of course you do,” Rafe replies.
He lets go of my chin and surprisingly, he leaves.
I slump forward and clutch my arm.
It’s still burning.
“Ivy is alive,” I say again.
Harper sits on the bench beside me. “Selah, what are you talking about?”
“I saw her,” I begin, but before I can explain, Twig and Jude arrive, both of them filled with concern.
“She said she saw Ivy,” Harper says.
“I had a vision… in the funhouse…”
It rises in my mind, spinning like a top.
The pond.
The prisoners.
Emma and Sienna.
Lola.
Brady and Caleb.
One of the missing hikers—Juniper Vale.
Not Scout Mercer though. I didn’t see her.
Nor did I see my mother or Simon. But I did see Ivy.
She was there with the rest of them, in some sort of trance, a glowing orb pulsing inside her chest. And those vines.
Those delicate, blood red vines. The same ones that grew around the plant Mistress Bramble called veil root.
He needs two more.
And the girl.
Which is me.
Somehow, I’m the girl.
Another wave of nausea washes over me.
I bend over my knees.
“Selah.” Jude crouches in front of me, his gaze steady. His presence, too. He reaches for my hand, but I pull away, seized by a sudden bout of fear that doesn’t help with the dizziness.
“Where did you see Ivy?” he asks.
“In the Water Garden,” I breathe.
Vorat’s lair.
“Here.” Rafe returns with a styrofoam cup. “Drink this.”
I lean away from him like the cup is poison.
“It’s cider,” he says flatly.
I don’t want to accept anything from him, especially not in front of Jude, but something tells me my blood sugar could use the kick. I take the drink begrudgingly and to my utter aggravation, the cider is warm and sweet and settles my stomach.
My relief must be evident.
Rafe looks smug.
Jude, brooding.
The air between them draws dangerously tight, and just when I think it might snap like a bowstring, Officer Jake steps into the tension.
“What’s going on here?” he asks with a hand on his baton. “I thought the rules were pretty clear, Harper. Everyone is supposed to stick to the public areas.”
“Selah got sick,” Harper says.
I shake out my arm. “I’d like to go home.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” Jake looks at his watch. “In fact, I think it’s time for all of you to go home.”
Under normal circumstances, Harper might protest. She finds it completely irritating when Jake starts throwing his authority around, like he is her dad instead of her brother.
But these aren’t normal circumstances. I went unconscious inside the funhouse and now I’m claiming one of our dead classmates isn’t actually dead.
I drain the rest of the cider while Rafe takes his leave and Jake radios his patrol partner, letting him know he’s going to drive his sister and her friend, Naomi Kapoor, home.
Mr. Calloway gave me a ride to the fairgrounds, along with Twig and Kate.
He had every intention of returning to pick us up when we were ready to go, but I don’t want to wait for him.
Jude offers. I accept and Twig calls his sister to let her know it’s time to leave.
His call goes straight to voicemail.
He gives Harrison a ring.
That goes to voicemail, too.
When we reach the front gate, we run into Brynn Alcott, who looks ready to exit the fairgrounds by herself. Officer Jake frowns reprovingly, but before he can launch into a lecture about the importance of staying in a group, Twig asks her if she’s seen his sister.
“She’s with Lainey,” Brynn says.
“What?” Twig yelps.
I grab Brynn by the elbow. “She’s with Lainey?”
“By herself?” Twig adds.
“Griffin and Harrison are with them.” Brynn pulls her arm free. “I think they were going to ride the Ferris Wheel or something.”
Twig tries calling Kate again.
Brynn looks confused, like why are we so panicked? But also, too numb to really care. For one illogical second, I want to tell her to hold onto hope. Caleb isn’t dead. Caleb is alive. So is Ivy Winslow.
“What’s going on?” Jake asks.
Harper fidgets.
Naomi’s gone pale.
Jude scans the crowd.
I crane my neck, trying to get a better look at the Ferris Wheel while Twig calls Kate for a third time.
He needs two more.
The thought reverberates inside my head. I turn in a circle, desperate to find her. Surely, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere with Lainey. Kate knows to stay clear of her and Griffin.
“She’s right there,” Brynn says in a flat voice.
I spin around and exhale sharply.
Kate is winding through the crowd, making her way toward us.