Polly Shulman - The Grimm Legacy

Aaron asked the mirror:

“Elizabeth, who we discussed,

Is she someone I can trust?”

His reflection listened with a little smirk on its perfect chiseled lips. It looked me straight in the eye and replied in Aaron’s voice,

“Bitsy Rew is brave and true.

A pity she’s not pretty too.”

“Oh, nice,” I said. “For the record, my name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth! Nobody calls me Bitsy. Did you hear that, you vile object?” I started to scowl at the mirror but quickly stopped—I didn’t want to think about how my scowl would look once the mirror got through distorting it. I turned to Aaron. “What makes you think you can trust that thing? It’s evil!”

“I know, but it can’t lie.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“No, I mean, it’s right about you being brave . . . and it does tell people the truth about their looks—you know how it told Snow White’s stepmother the minute she stopped being the fairest of them all.”

Aaron’s reflection was smiling smugly, while Aaron’s own face twisted in an awkward combination of embarrassed and angry.

“So you’re saying you agree, I’m not pretty?”

“No—I didn’t say that! I think it has to tell the truth, but it doesn’t have to tell the whole truth. It can’t just lie, but it can be as mean and difficult as it wants. It clearly likes to mess around with people and get them in trouble—remember what happened to Snow White’s stepmother.”

“I don’t, actually. What did happen to her?” I asked.

“I don’t remember either. Something bad. But that’s not the point. The point is, the mirror likes to tease and torment, but it can’t just out-and-out lie. So if I have to think about it, it’s right: pretty isn’t the word I would use for you. As far as pretty goes . . . you can be beautiful but not pretty.”

“Oh, are you calling me beautiful, then? You’re saying that’s what the mirror meant?” Did he really think he could get out of the insult by pretending he meant it as a compliment?

Aaron threw his hands in the air. “What is it with you women? There’s a magic mirror that can tell you the truth about anything you want to know, and all you can think about is whether you’re beautiful!”

“What do you mean, ‘you women’? Who’s ‘you women’?”

“You and Snow White’s stepmother, for starts.”

“Oh, so you’re lumping me in with Snow White’s stepmother now? Watch out, I might poison you with an apple.”

Aaron’s reflection in the mirror looked as if it was enjoying this far too much.

“Don’t look at me like that, you!” I told it. “If I weren’t afraid of seven years of bad luck, I would smash you to bits.” Aaron’s reflection in the mirror doubled over laughing. I picked up a shoe from the floor and held it up threateningly. “You suck. Don’t push your luck,” I said.

The mirror answered,

“Silly girl, Elizabeth—

Don’t you know you rhyme with death?”

“You think you can scare me? You don’t scare me one bit!” My voice came out terrified.

Aaron gently took the shoe from me and put it down. “My firstborn child, remember? If you break it, I lose it. Let’s just ask the mirror about Anjali.”

I pulled myself together. “Okay, if you think that’ll do any good.” I considered for a while, then said,

“Anjali, the elder Rao,

What is her location now?”

The mirror answered:

“In a cabinet of glass,

Where only royal blood may pass,

From Versailles to the Taj Mahal—

There she stands, a real doll.”

“What does that mean?” said Aaron. The mirror didn’t deign to respond.

“I think it might mean she’s a doll.”

“Yes, yes, we know she’s gorgeous, but where is she?”

“No, I mean she’s really a doll. We think Mr. Stone turned her into a figurine. He tried to do it to us too.”

I turned to the mirror.

“Do you literally mean

That Anjali’s a figurine?”

Aaron’s reflection in the mirror nodded. “Don’t get your panties in a whirl,” it answered, demonstrating with an obscene-looking gesture. “She’s a puppet, not a girl.”

“Oh, no, that’s horrifying!” I said.

“How are we going to get her back?” said Aaron.

I addressed the mirror:

“We’re terrified for Anjali.

Tell us how to set her free.”

Aaron’s reflection shook its finger at me teasingly and said,

“But Liz, your rival’s locked away.

Here’s your chance to seize the day.”

Aaron turned to me, his eyes widening. “Is that true? Is Anjali your rival? Why?”

“Oh, come on ! Don’t tell me you believe that thing! You know it’s evil! You said yourself it likes to mess with people.”

“Yeah, I guess. She sounded pretty convincing, though.”

“Who did?”

“The mirror.”

“Why are you calling it ‘she’? It was talking in your voice.”

“No, it wasn’t—it was using yours. And now she’s smirking at me, just like you do.”

Aaron was glowering at me, but his reflection looked like it was about to burst out laughing.

“I bet that’s because we can’t see ourselves from where we’re sitting, just each other. The mirror has to show us what we see reflected. Come over here so it reflects us both,” I said. I sat on the bed, across from the mirror. Aaron walked over and sat down beside me, his shoulder touching mine.

In the mirror, his reflection put its arm around my reflection’s shoulders. My reflection nestled against him and looked up at him with adoring eyes. His reflection started playing with my reflection’s hair. She twisted around, curled her legs up on the bed, and put her head in his lap. I heard myself give an embarrassed giggle. It was almost as embarrassing as what was going on in the mirror.

Aaron looked embarrassed too. He said,

“Anjali! Is she okay?

I’d like an answer, please—today.”

Our reflections put their cheeks together and crooned,

“She’s surrounded by her peers,

Royals missing through the years.

She’s the glory of the hoard—

Safe enough, though rather bored.”

Then they put their foreheads together and looked into each other’s eyes.

I turned to Aaron and said, “Right. So if we can trust the mirror, she’s safe where she is, for now. That’s good news, anyway. We have some time to figure everything out.”

“While you try to get Marc’s attention, with your rival away?”

“Aaron, what is the matter with you?”

In the mirror, our reflections were staring at us with their mouths parted, as if they were watching the climax of an exciting movie. They had their arms around each other.

“Come on, Aaron! Let’s try one more time to get something useful out of the horrible thing, and if we can’t, let’s smash it. Or at least cover it.”

“Yes, okay. You ask this time.”

I thought for a bit and said,

“For the last time—answer me!

How can we free Anjali?”

As if they knew this was their last chance to torment us, the couple in the mirror turned to each other with a new intensity. Like a ghastly parody of Marc and Anjali in the magic painting after the basketball game—or my dream that night—Aaron’s reflection began kissing my reflection on the neck. She turned to us and breathed,

“Want to rescue Anjali?

Find and use the Golden Key.”

Then she went back to making out with Aaron’s reflection.