The Magic Mirror of the Mermaid Queen - Delia Sherman [72]
Bloody Mary’s wail sank into a horrible moaning. I heard fear in it, and a horrible, hopeless sadness. It made me feel like life was nothing but betrayal and terror, that I’d never be happy or safe or full or warm, that it would be like this forever and ever and nothing I could do would ever change it.
I looked around the circle. Everyone was standing like they’d been frozen as stiff as Airboy in a panic. All except one not-very-scary rusalka, who was kneeling on the floor with her knitted green hair falling over her mask, sobbing as only a mortal can.
Then Bergdorf broke down, whooping and sniffling in a way that should have been funny, but wasn’t. I saw Espresso’s shoulders start to heave, and Stonewall bow his head. Fortran gulped and roared like a little kid. Beside me, Airboy began to moan softly.
I didn’t get it. If they were trying to make Bloody Mary laugh and disappear, it wasn’t working. In fact, she sounded sadder than ever, sadder than a banshee, sadder than anything I’d ever imagined. As I listened, my throat began to tighten and my eyes stung. I realized, to my horror, that I was about to cry. I tried to suppress it, but I couldn’t. Soon, I was crying almost as hard as Bergdorf.
Airboy squeezed my hand. Looking up, I saw Tiffany half crouched between Stonewall and Fortran. Her head was down and her shoulders shaking. Tiffany the ice queen, Tiffany the most Folk-like student at Miss Van Loon’s. Tiffany was crying.
Alone in the middle of the circle, Bloody Mary floated. She wasn’t trying to kill us anymore, but she wasn’t offering to grant our wishes, either. If we were even in any shape to make one. The furious grief pouring off her made it impossible to think, let alone come up with a clever idea. Maybe she couldn’t reach us, but we couldn’t reach her, either.
Stalemate.
Suddenly, Espresso started to speak.
“Bloody Mary, bogeywoman,
Queen of Mirrors, Lady of Terror,
Cut us a break.”
Bloody Mary screamed. The blood froze in my veins, but Espresso kept speaking. She didn’t scream to compete, she didn’t even shout, but I could hear every word. Her voice was more like singing than talking, and the way the words sounded was part of what they meant.
“Bloody Mary, we see you.
We see the blood on your hands and clothes.
We hear you mourn your lost children.
You want us to sigh with you?
We’ve sighed.
You want us to cry with you?
We’ve cried.
But it’s over now.
Mother of Fear, we’re not your children.
Sister of Death, our blood’s not yours to shed.
Child of Violence, we have better weapons
than a knife.
We have knowledge, we have heart, we
have courage.
We have each other.
Go back into your mirror-world.
Leave us in peace.”
Bloody Mary stopped moaning and quivered. Tiffany rolled her eyes at Espresso, who grimaced. And I saw for the first time the thick scarlet rope of the genie spell binding Bloody Mary to the Mermaid’s mirror.
I had an idea.
I took a step forward, tugging at Airboy and Espresso. They hesitated, then shuffled forward beside me, pulling Fortran and Mukuti, who pulled Bergdorf and Tiffany and Stonewall, closing the circle tighter around the bound bogeywoman.
Another two steps, and we were all squished together like a human wall. Bloody Mary had gone all thin and shadowy, her hands down by her sides, her head thrown back, her black eyes white-rimmed with panic.
I dropped Airboy’s and Espresso’s hands, quickly grabbed Fortran’s and Mukuti’s. The circle tightened.
Tiffany shot me a hard smile, shoved Stonewall behind her, and grabbed Bergdorf’s hand.
We squeezed closer.
Bloody Mary oozed toward the ceiling and hovered there uncomfortably, the scarlet spell-rope stretched tight and thin. Behind me, everyone took hands to make a second circle.
Bergdorf dropped back, then Mukuti. The spell’s rope was a string now.
Then Fortran dropped my hand and it was just Tiffany and me, our hands joined around a pulsing scarlet thread. Bloody Mary was a thunderous mist above us, the mirror a bright disk between our feet. I focused on where I thought