Page 127 of Gilded Wicked Mirrors
Periwinkle sighed, her lips forming into a line. “So, you’ve come for the location of the final Blood Mirror.”
“Yes, what would that information cost?” Quinn asked, dreading the answer.
Periwinkle twirled the hair between her fingers. “You could trade your soul.”
“No, she will not.” Blood’s voice was liquid wildfire.
“Yeah.” Periwinkle sighed. “I don’t think I could go through with it anyway. I am not like the other mirrors. I remember what it was like to be human, and I find myself not wanting to extract that kind of cost.”
“You were human?” Giselle asked, the thrill of new knowledge dancing on her face. Giselle loved learning and discovering new secrets.
Quinn’s heart tumbled, her scalp tingling as the information rained over her. If the mirror was once human, it meant that Periwinkle was a human soul trapped inside. It was all at once tragic and fascinating.
Which meant Blood was also once a human.
“Yes, I sometimes forget that,” Periwinkle answered. “It was long, long ago, maybe eons, maybe days . . .” She shrugged. “I was human before my glamoured beauty and endless hunger . . . but I was a human.” She was lost in thought, and no one was willing to interrupt her. For the first time, maybe ever, Periwinkle was giving information for free. “Every time we die, magic morphs us, and we grow stronger. We don’t reach our most powerful state until the end. Like the motto of the Grand Library. Some of us glory inthe power, but others wilt. I think I am more of a wilting rose. What do you think? A rose? Or maybe a lily? I am also partial to periwinkle.”
“Every time you die?” Quinn asked at the same time as Giselle asked, “How many times have you died?”
“Oh, two, I think . . .” She counted on her fingers, holding up three and then rethinking it, resting on two. “Unless you count every day in here.”
It was her prison. How sad and lonely it must be to be stuck inside a magic world all alone. Could Periwinkle communicate with the other mirrors? Mirrors were capable of watching humanity, but watching was far different from living.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn said.
Periwinkle shrugged and changed the subject. “So, your cost. It has to be something big because the information is protected. So, I would like all your negative emotions. I want to take your sorrow, pain, suffering, and betrayal. The devastation of watching your parents die. You will never feel a negative emotion again. Give them to me, and I'll give you the location of the hidden Blood Mirror.”
Quinn stepped back as if punched in the stomach. It offered what she’d always wanted. After her parents died, she never wanted to feel again. She wanted every bad emotion stripped away. To control the storm inside. It was the reason Quinn spent so much time in the morgue and dancing. Dead bodies, science, and dance kept her from being able to think about her pain, and if she didn’t think about it, she wouldn’t feel it. And if she didn’t feel it, she could control it.
There was a time she would’ve given anything for this offer.
Anything.
Maybe it was a good offer. The mirror only wanted her negative emotions. It only wanted her sorrow and anger and pain. It would leave her positive emotions. She could still be happy and love and care about people. It sounded like the perfect deal.
Except all mirror bargains had hidden costs that never endedwell for humans. If Quinn couldn’t feel negative emotions, would she be able to have empathy? How could she feel for others when she wouldn’t know what pain felt like? If she lost her negative emotions, would she know what it meant to care? Would she know the strength of happiness?
Or would she become a shell? A facade. Externally beautiful but internally empty.
“No,” she whispered.
A butterfly fell from the night sky and turned to ash. “It is everything you have ever wanted,” Periwinkle said.
Quinn rolled her shoulders and forced herself to face the girl with strength. It was mostly a mask, but that was okay. Sometimes, one needed to wear a mask. “Maybe I shouldn’t have wanted it.”
Periwinkle’s face lit up with a magical smile. “Good. I thought you would say no to that.” Her eyes landed on Blood, and she nodded slightly as if the two were colluding. “Instead, I want you to have what you’ve always feared. I want everyone to be able to see your emotions.” At Quinn’s horror, Periwinkle said, “It won’t hurt much. Well, it won’t hurt physically at all.”
“What are the hidden costs?” Quinn asked.
“There aren’t any . . . probably. When you are upset or sad or happy, people will be able to see it.”
“How?”
“I think I’d like to surprise you with that.” Periwinkle wrinkled her nose.
It was a terrible cost. One of the worst things she could possibly imagine, but then any cost for this level of information was terrible. Although it was a far better cost than giving her soul or losing her ability to feel.
She’d never, ever be able to wear a mask again. Everyone would always know all the deepest secrets of her heart.
