The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [47]
Snowbell relaxed again. “Not Sooty?” she asked languidly. “Odile, that is. The black swan. We’re supposed to be exactly alike, you know.”
“You are?” I was afraid I’d overdone the shocked surprise, but Snowbell smiled lazily. “I thought that was just part of the story. You’re way more beautiful than she is.”
“I think so, too,” Snowbell said simply. Minx rolled her eyes. “Yes, little mortal. A dwarf gave me the mirror you describe.”
My heart stared to beat hard. “Do you by any chance still have it?”
Snowbell moved restlessly under Minx’s hands. “I’m getting bored,” she announced.
It was time to stop beating around the bush. “Where’s the mirror now?”
“Not here,” Snowbell said. “Now, go away.”
And that was that. I tried to flatter her back into a good mood, but she got all temperamental and threw the hairbrush at me. She was reaching for her ballet shoes when Minx hustled me out into the corridor.
“I gotta hand it to you,” she said. “You almost did it. I had a bet with myself she’d throw you out as soon as you said the word ‘mirror.’”
“Why?”
Minx sniggered. “What would you rather know? Where the mirror is or why mentioning it makes Snowbell go berserk?”
I glared at her. “Is Folkishness catching, or what?”
“It’s catching,” Minx said. “I know, I know. The Diplomat would have me herding butterflies. Oh, yes, I’m an Old Loonie. I even remember the rule about giving fellow-mortals aid if asked. Number Two-oh-eight, right?” I nodded. “Okay, here’s your helpful fact for the day. Snowbell’s glamourist has the mirror. You’ll find her in the Garment District.”
“Aren’t there a lot of glamourists in the Garment District?”
“Minx!” Snowbell honked from the dressing room.
Minx put her hand on the door. “She’s called Elizabeth Factor.” She hesitated. “Watch out for her. She’s an ex-fairy godmother, blacklisted by the Bureau of Changelings. I don’t know why, but it can’t be anything good.”
Something hit the door hard, with a crash and tinkle of breaking glass.
“Good luck, kid,” Minx said. “If I see Danskin, I’ll tell him you did just fine without him.”
Chapter 14
RULE 386: STUDENTS MUST BE POLITE AT ALL TIMES.
Miss Van Loon’s Big Book of Rules
When I left the Ballet Theater, it was raining hard. The red apple cart was gone—no cabbie, no buck-toothed horse, not even an apple core. Instead, there was a black pony standing patiently by the curb with his rear hoof cocked up and rain dripping from his long black mane.
“Pooka!” I ran up to him. “What are you doing here?”
The Pooka tossed his head, flinging an arc of diamond raindrops high in the air. “And a fair night to you, too, even if you cannot tear yourself away from your revels in time to catch the coach your godmother was good enough to enchant for you.”
“It was an apple cart. And I never asked her to,” I said sulkily.
“You didn’t have to,” the Pooka said. “Just as you didn’t have to ask me to come take you home. Are you going to get up now, or do you enjoy standing in the cold and wet?”
It took me two tries to haul myself, my silver skirts, and the wet and slimy velvet cloak onto the Pooka’s back. As we trotted toward the Park with the rain trickling down my neck, I couldn’t help thinking the Betweenway would have been dryer.
Overnight, frost spirits turned the rain to sleet. In the morning, Astris magically produced a pair of purple rubber boots and made me wear them to school.
I was not in a good mood. Astris was mad about the cloak and the rain spots on the dress, my schedule held a full day of Diplomacy, I had no idea when the next weekend would allow a trip to the Garment District. And there was the humiliation of Danskin’s leaving me standing in the lobby of the Ballet Theater like a wicked stepsister at the ball.
Diplomacy was all about cooperation, and involved putting puzzles together in teams of two. I got Bergdorf. As we compared shapes and colors in frozen silence, I had