The Hushing [#ONC2022]

Chapter Eleven

Marion sank into the mirror. The first time she'd done this, frost had crackled around her, the cold of The Hushing luring her in. This time, the mirror was smooth and warm as a velvet blanket, gliding like silk around her.

Then the smell of dust and mold rose up to greet her, followed by a blast of humid air. The faint whir-whir of a fan echoed in the corner as Marion stepped into her grandmother's attic. The room hadn't changed with boxes piled haphazardly everywhere, knickknacks spilling out and scattered across the floor or in piles that seemed to make sense at the time.

But Marion didn't feel like the same person anymore. Her toes were covered in ashes and she still wore the same red dress Lady Ingrid had insisted she put on for the ball. She felt like a lifetime had passed since she'd set foot in her grandmother's attic.

Then a thought had her lurching for the attic door. How much time had passed since Marion had gone through the mirror? Did time pass differently in The Hushing than it did in the living world?

"Grandma!" Marion called.

She stumbled out of the attic, down the stairs, skidding into the kitchen. And there was Grandma Louisa, seated at the kitchen table, opening a pizza box. She raised her eyebrows at the state of Marion.

"Where did you run off to?" she said. "I've been calling you for the past five minutes."

Five minutes. Marion let out a shaky breath of relief. She'd only been gone for five minutes. She hurried around the table and wrapped her arms around her grandmother's shoulders. She inhaled the sweet scent of Grandma Louisa's lavender soap and the fresh basil she'd chopped up to sprinkle over the pizza.

Marion was home.

"Sweetie, is everything okay?" Grandma Louisa said after a moment.

Brushing her hands over her face and smoothing her hair back, Marion nodded and pulled away. Grandma Louisa peered up at her, eyes narrowed. She plucked at Marion's skirts.

"Where did you find this? I've never seen it before. Was it in the attic?"

Marion touched the fabric. It had looked so perfect and pretty in The Hushing. Now it was ragged, moth-eaten and frayed. The color was no longer a rich, vibrant, bloody red that had made Marion stand out like a flame. Instead, it was nearly gray, washed out and lackluster. She couldn't wait to take it off and burn it.

"No," Marion said. "Not the attic exactly."

Now Grandma Louisa's expression turned wary. How much could Marion tell her? She didn't want to worry her grandmother but there was an enchanted mirror in her attic and it had nearly killed Marion...

At the memory of the mirror, Marion spun on her heel and hurtled back up the stairs. Behind her, the echo of her grandmother's voice called after her.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry now?"

Marion took the stairs two at a time. When she stumbled into the attic, she found two dozen girls pressed into the small space. Constance stood before the mirror, her father's sword gripped in both hands like a baseball bat. She paused and glanced at Marion. Then she nodded. And she drove the sword into the mirror.

For the second time, shards of glass spilled to the floor. Marion waited for the mirror to piece itself back together again but it didn't. Each girl bent down and picked up a shard, sliding it into their pockets or up their sleeves. Took selected her own shard, studying the glint of the glass in the dim light of the attic.

Maybe one day the mirror would become whole again. But for now, there would be no passage from the living world into The Hushing.

Then Marion looked at the other girls around her, at Constance, and the girl in the pink crop top and the girl in the sailor's jacket. For many of them, their families, their homes, and their way of life didn't exist anymore. The mirror had delivered them into yet another strange world.

Marion didn't know how she could explain to her grandmother that she suddenly had two dozen strange girls in her attic. But it seemed she would have to face the truth eventually.

"Who's hungry?" she said.

***

After several pizzas later, the girls camped out in Grandma Louisa's living room, watching television. Some of the curled up on the couch while others spread out on the floor. A few of them fell asleep which surprised Marion. But in a way, she understood. It was different to fall asleep on your own rather than be forced into a permanent state of slumber by someone else. Now that the girls were safe on this side of the mirror, it must have been a relief to finally be able to relax and let their guard down.

Marion remained in the kitchen with her grandmother.

"So you're telling me that you killed the queen of the dead," Grandma Louisa said.

Marion grimaced. It didn't sound believable. She'd spilled the whole tale, trying to smooth over the parts where she was in danger so she didn't worry her grandmother. But she saw the concern in Grandma Louisa's eyes anyway.

"Something like that, yeah," Marion replied.

Grandma Louisa blew out a breath and shook her head.

"I think you best keep that between you and me, sweetie," she said. "Your parents won't let you spend the summer with me if you keep talking about enchanted mirrors and the dead queens."

Marion paused, considering her grandmother's answer.

"Does that mean you believe me?"

Grandma Louisa shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"

Marion spread her hands. "Magic? A wraith queen? An entire realm of the dead? And you've barely even blinked."

"Maybe I've had a few adventures of my own," Grandma Louisa said with a wink.

Marion sputtered in shock. But no matter how hard she pressed, Grandma Louisa wouldn't say another word.

***

Marion found Constance seated by the window in the living room, Septimus's sword resting across her knees. She carefully approached and sat on the floor across from Constance, folding her legs underneath her. She'd shoved her dress in the trash and changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old band t-shirt. It felt good to be back in the land of the living again with normal clothes and light and all the comforts of the normal, modern world that she'd missed during her stay in Valecroft.

"In many ways," Constance said after some time had passed. "My world has changed. And sometimes, I wonder if it had been better to remain asleep in that glass casket for eternity."

Marion shook her head. "That is not where you belong. Your father wanted to set you free. You deserve to live your life."

Constance ran her thumb over the handle of Septimus's sword.

"I imagine there are more monsters like Lady Ingrid, lurking in the dark."

Marion nodded. It was an unsettling thought that she would have laughed at before. But after her encounter with the mirror, she wasn't dismissing anything without giving it some thought.

"Probably more enchanted mirrors too," she said.

Constance smiled a little. "I hope not."

Marion pulled her knees up to her chest.

"My grandmother said you can stay here as long as you like. She doesn't mind having company. And your new world will take some getting used to."

Constance considered for a moment, tracing her fingertip over the edge of her father's blade.

"My father was a protector, a guardian. I intend to follow in his footsteps."

"Where will you go?"

Constance shrugged. "Anywhere that I am needed."

Marion nodded again as silence settled between them, thinking of monsters and mirrors.

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