Chapter 10: Waltz in a house of mirrors

Step. Step. Stop, take a breath, plan the next steps. Repeat. 

Our waltz continued through the labyrinth of shattered windows. Each shard threatened to make our presence known should one of us misstep. The crystal’s glow shone against them, sending reflections every way like a stationary disco ball. Only where our silhouette danced did the light die down momentarily.  

The waltz was one of dire consequence, and we were both painfully aware. Neither making a mistake. 

How did Elana notice the Slitherstitch before me? I thought. She hadn’t been blind that long from what I gathered. Growing accustomed so soon was odd.  

She was unusually adept at moving quietly, and she was flexible. The thought of her being a dancer before coming here grazed my mind, but I knew she’d been nothing more than a receptionist. 

Maybe her blessing made it easier. I’ll ask once we get out of the alley. Social decorum be damned. 

As we danced further away, I afforded myself a glance at the monster. It snoozed away lazily on the rooftop, tired from all the disfiguring and murder it had done during the day. If it even was daytime. It was hard to tell with the ceiling perpetually lit. My internal clock was not to be trusted after my time spent in the chambers. 

I spent most of my time there asleep, just to pass the time. In the beginning, I kept track of time, to the best of my ability. But after a week I realized the futility of it. That must have been a month ago now.

Elana breathed in sharply as a shard dug into her heel. It didn’t shatter; neither did her composure. All she allowed herself was a small whimper. 

The Slitherstitch stretched its neck lazily, craning it up high to get a better view. I trembled. I assumed it was blind just because it had no eyes. Assumptions in a place of magic were not to be trusted. 

I pressed my hand to Elana’s lips, strangling her moans of discomfort. The Slitherstitch scanned the alley before laying down again. 

Carefully, I leaned forward. Elana’s face tightened as she let herself be guided to hang over the floor. At my mercy. I slid the hand held against her hip toward her thigh, and lifted her leg up off the ground, then slid it further down, to her calf, then her heel. 

I yanked the shard out. She clenched her jaw, but didn’t squeal or squirm. Then we danced‌ out of the alley. 

She followed me with a limp until we were finally far away to speak again. 

“There,” I said. “We’re out of earshot.” 

“Oh thank God,” she whispered. 

She smiled weakly. It must have been one hell of a day for her, of that I was sure. But then again, that was probably the case for any and everyone here. 

“Don’t mention it. Where’d you learn to dance?” I asked. 

“My mother was a dance teacher back in Spain. She had me take a bunch of different classes when I was a kid. What about you?” 

“My grandmother made me,” I grumbled. “Is your foot going to be okay?”

“Probably not if we don’t get to the healer. Every damn wound from this place seems to get infected,” she sighed. 

“Well that’s alright. We can’t be too far from the library now,” I said and glanced at the walls surrounding us. Most were obvious storefronts. My heart fluttered at the sight of a particular one. 

“Just give me a second before we move on,” I beamed. 

I could see on the look on her face that she wasn’t ecstatic at having to wait more than necessary, but she didn’t voice her complaints. I guided her inside and sat her down against the wall.

She fiddled her fingers, “Don’t take too long, okay?” 

“I won’t. Don’t worry,” I answered. 

Soft fabrics brushed against my fingers. Soft and glorious textiles. 

Frilly dresses and button-down blouses covered one side of the boutique. On the other there were pants, button-down shirts, and underwear. 

I couldn’t recall if I’ve ever been so happy. I could, however, recall all the times I’d received underwear for Christmas, or birthdays, and my lackluster reactions to the presents. I wish I hadn’t been so nonchalant. 

Unfortunately, what’s done is done. There was nothing to do except regret or get over it. And I’d already gotten over it long ago. Dwelling served no purpose except to torment me. I’d vowed to live for us all, and I’d make damn sure I got out of here and kept doing just that. 

I stuffed as many pairs of underwear I could fit into my Rudy’s satchel, which; despite being filled with as many rounds of the magic ammo I could fit; there were plenty of cracks and crevices that the garments fit into. 

With that done, I undressed and grabbed a pair of black trousers. The rough textiles felt durable, and I liked the overall fit of them—despite their scratchiness. They didn’t hang down over my heels like pants usually did, nor where they unnecessarily loose fitting. 

The holy grail of my haul was a soft white undershirt with long sleeves. I left the two top buttons unbuttoned. Being covered up was nice for a change. Covering up my blackened arm was especially nice; having to look at the hand wasn’t as jarring compared to the grisly criss-cross of veins. 

With a satisfied smile, I grabbed the closest overshirt in the same color as the pants, as well as a scarf that I wrapped around my neck. I’m sure Joanna would have laughed if she saw me, but it wasn’t a fashion statement; it was purely a functional choice. The scarf could wrap my face, making my overall silhouette darker and less visible. 

To finish my new look, I grabbed a pair of high leather boots and swapped out my sneakers. Although I loved the shoes, they weren’t very functional, as Elana’s mishap had just proven; normal glass cut through sneakers like a hot knife through butter. I swiped clean a thick layer of dust from an intact mirror and grinned at the handsome bastard staring back at me. 

Modest height. Monochrome clothes of a dull grey and black luster. Sleek, dark brown leather boots that went up to my shins. And to top it off, a brown leather satchel hanging around my shoulder, next to a black scarf. My dirt blonde hair had grown long and curly. Most of the time, it fell into my eyes and was a bother. 

Under the bangs, sharp eyes glared back at me. They stood in stark contrast to the otherwise boyish appearance of my face. I combed the mop of hair with my fingers. It was oily and clumped together in a tangled mess. It slicked back easily and left an oily layer on my fingers. 

I smelled my armpit and recoiled as if someone had shot me. I prayed that the library had a source of water. Poor Elana must have been doing her best not to retch from my smell. 

“Do you need anything?” I asked Elana and approached. 

“Where are we?” she asked and faced my direction.

Right. 

“We’re in a clothing store.” 

“Oh, then no. I have plenty of things back at the library. Can we go now?” 

“Yes, of course. Let’s,” I smiled and pulled her to her feet. “Anything I should know about before we get moving again?”

“No. Should be smooth sailing from here.” 

And there wasn’t anything major. At least not to her, who’d been living in a city infested by Scourge creatures for weeks. 

The walk from the Chambers of Crushing had been a calm one until the brief run in with the Slitherstitch. 

Up until now. 

The streets were littered with people who, like Elana, had fallen prey to the Slitherstitch’s vile mutilations.

“There’s people,” I whispered and stopped Elana. 

She stopped and concentrated, furrowing her brows. 

“Stumblers,” she whispered after a short listen. 

The name was on the nose. It made sense. The creatures stumbled around, relying on sound for navigation. 

Unlike the nimble Slitherstitch, they bumped into each other with snarls and claws. Not even buildings were safe from their flailing walk. It would have been comical if they didn’t look like they were once human.

“Are they human?” I asked. They sure looked the part. About as much as Elana had, anyway. 

She shook her head, “No. They’re long gone. They were here even before us. As far as I know, we’re the first blessed to end up here. So they shouldn’t be from earth.”

I shifted from my crouching position and craned my neck; they may just be wandering around, but there were many of them. “How do you normally deal with them?” 

“We, um, dispose of them,” she squirmed at the words. 

“I suppose you’re usually more than one fighter,” I sighed. 

”Yes.” 

“It’s too risky.”

“Please, Cal! If I don’t get back soon it might be too late…” she pleaded. 

Panic rippled over her face.

I grit my teeth and shook my head.

“I’ll make it up to you!” she exclaimed. 

The heads of two Stumblers twitched to us. They turned with jerking movements, listening… 

“Shh!” I hissed and pressed my hand against her lips. “What if they heard you?!” 

Her cheeks reddened, “I’m sorry. But I mean it. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“How?”

“I’ve been to most places but the danger zones. I’ve gathered a bunch of stuff, weapons, clothes.” 

I raised my eyebrows, “Accolades?”

She nodded with fervor, “Yes. Those too.” 

Jackpot. 

“Alright, I’ll get you through the Stumblers if you give me two of my choosing.”

“One,” she shot back. Two stumblers sauntered over a patch of broken furniture toward us. 

I grabbed her hand firmly in mine and shook it, “Deal,” turned, and called forth Silent scream. 

Dark smoke formed the dagger in my blackened hand. As usual, I tied a string of magic around the pommel. 

I furrowed my brows, and exhaled, “Wait here.” 

There were ten of them. Two were already stalking toward our hiding place, bumping into each other every so often. 

I circled the pair. 

Prowling the glass littered streets had already become second nature to me. Sneaking around a pair of blind B list Zombies was nothing troublesome. 

Their stench made me want to puke. I thought I was smelly. Clearly I didn’t know half of what the word meant. A disgustingly sweet odour wafted off of them. It was suffocating. I glanced down at the dagger, Sera looked back, her eyes apathetic as always. 

I stepped forward with burst powering me. Silent scream cut through the air and embedded itself deep into the skull of the first Stumbler. The stumbler’s limbs went limp. It fell to its knees with a thud. 

“Shit,” I mumbled and bounced back. Just in time. 

The second Stumbler lunged at the first, tearing at it with its overgrown nails. I watched with my jaw agape as the stitches tore and grew under the strain of the Stumbler forcing its mouth open. Inside, insidious, long and sharp teeth grew in a crisscross. 

I shivered and executed the disgusting thing as it feasted on the corpse of its friend. 

The others noticed the noise and made their way to me. They tripped over each other and fell to the ground, clawing their way forward across the cobbled street. 

I rolled my head and shook my arms, then got into a ready stance, “Alright, bring it.”