The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [69]
“Library?” Mukuti suggested.
Stonewall stood up. “It’s worth a try. Come on, Danny. I’ll carry you up the stairs.”
In the library, we found the quiet we were looking for. We also found Tiffany, cross-legged on the checkout desk with the library cat draped over her knees.
She dumped the cat and stood up. I watched everyone who hadn’t yet caught her Bowery act take in the torn fishnet stockings, short black skirt, coat with silver buttons, and the black bandage covering half her face.
Fortran whistled. “Wizard costume! Who are you supposed to be?”
“The punk pirate queen,” Tiffany growled. “You got a problem with that?”
Nobody did.
Mukuti disappeared among the shelves. A moment later, we heard a cry of triumph. “Look what I found!” she crowed, reappearing with a book in her arms. “101 Easy Exorcisms. And the Angry One’s in the index.”
“Groovy,” Espresso said.
Mukuti sat on the floor, propped the book open on her knees, and flicked over a few pages. “‘Urban legend, wild power, iron claws, yadda yadda.’ Here it is: ‘Avoiding and Escaping: While she is killing her victim, run away as fast as you can, avoiding all mirrors in the future.’”
Fortran laughed. “You’re making that up.”
“I am not.” Mukuti showed him the book. “See? Right there, between ‘Black Dog’ and ‘Brownie.’”
“That’s no help,” Tiffany said. “She’d still be bound to the mirror.”
“And one of us would be dead,” Fortran pointed out. “Probably you.”
Tiffany shrugged. “That’s probably going to happen anyway.”
“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Stonewall said. “She’s bound to the mirror. She can’t hurt us as long as her mistress is there.”
Nobody seemed to remember that I was still in Basic Talismans. “Her mistress?”
Danskin preened his wing. “The one who bound her, of course—Bergdorf.”
“Who isn’t here,” Stonewall said, and sighed. “I knew I’d forgotten something.”
I don’t know how he got Bergdorf to come to the library. I do know he didn’t tell her about Tiffany, because when Bergdorf saw her, she screamed.
Fortran giggled. Espresso kicked him. Tiffany jumped off the desk, grabbed Bergdorf, and shook her. “Shut up, you moron!”
Bergdorf choked. “Oh, Tiff. I thought you were dead.”
“Tiffany is dead,” Tiffany said. “I’m Woolworth of the Bowery, and I don’t give a fart in a high wind what you think. Once this mirror thing’s settled, I’m blowing this pop stand. Capisce?”
Bergdorf opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, then nodded. “Okay. Woolworth. What do you want me to do?”
“You bound her,” Tiffany said. “You have to banish her.”
Bergdorf swallowed. “By myself?”
“We’ll help you,” Mukuti said soothingly.
“How?”
We all looked at one another. “We’re working on a plan,” Stonewall said loftily.
Bergdorf rolled her eyes. “How typical is that? I bet you haven’t even thought about the iron claws issue.”
“The rule with genies is, they can’t hurt the person who summons them,” Mukuti said.
“Hello? The Angry One’s not a genie? Who knows what her rules are? You dorks can do what you want, but I’m not going in there without a mask—preferably one made out of something sturdier than construction paper. Why are you all looking at me like that? Do you think I’m, like, stupid?”
Stonewall cranked his jaw shut. “Masks. Of course. I should have thought of that.”
“What Stoney means,” said Danskin, “is, ‘That’s brilliant, Bergdorf!’ ”
Tiffany snorted. “Let’s not go overboard. She’s just not as dumb as she looks.”
“I like masks,” Mukuti said. “Where do we get the stuff to make them?”
Airboy smiled slyly. “Art Tutor. Magic Tech.”
“Now we’re cooking!” Espresso high-fived him. “Groovy.”
“And,” I added, not wanting to be left out, “if anybody wants to know what we want it for, we’ll just sing out, ‘Decorations!’ ”
It worked like a charm. Before long we were back in the library with a roll of strong, flexible wire mesh and papier-mâché to make the masks and some paint and ribbon and glitter to decorate them with.
Much to my surprise, I enjoyed putting my mask together, even if the final product was kind of lame. I was a troll maiden, after all, not a beautiful