Chapter 13

Xisa froze, staring fixedly at Morg’s reflection. After snapping her gaze away from the mirror, she scurrying over to Morg’s side- the real Morg’s side.

Morg started when she felt a hand clap her on the shoulder. Realizing it was Xisa, Morg began babbling away, even while knowing her friend had no idea what she was saying.

“Xisa! This is great. Look at this bird! I’m preeetty sure it’s real. Look, you can see bird poop on the tray underneath it up there!”

Not caring to even attempt to understand Morg’s prattling, Xisa began gesturing wildly at the mirror where Morg’s unruly reflection continued to refuse to mirror Morg. The reflection smiled at them from across the room, its mouth unnaturally large.

“Shhh!” Morg exclaimed, grabbing Xisa’s gesturing hands as a means of shushing. “We’re not supposed to talk about her! We’ll get in trouble! My parents hated when I brought up my reflection, they would always get so mad at me about it. Actually I’m not sure they even believed me, haha…” Morg sighed sadly before continuing, “Look I really like living with Maisha and Songbai, I wanna keep learning from them. I feel… safe with them. So please don’t tell them about this, okay? I don’t wanna upset them.”

Xisa stared at Morg, dumbfounded. Morg seemed completely unsurprised. Like this was… normal?!

“Oh right, I keep forgetting you can’t understand me,” Morg suddenly said again. She then proceeded to gesture at the mirror, then made a shushing motion and said, “Shhhh!!”

Behind her, Morg’s reflection was a caricature of everything Morg did, her motions dramatic and ridiculous. She stuck out her tongue when she spoke and pulled at her cheeks to distort her face.

Xisa stared blankly at her friend. She could understand easily enough that Morg didn’t want to talk about the reflection, but she had no idea why. Was she keeping it a secret for the reflection’s sake? Or had that monster threatened her? Or… maybe she just hadn’t noticed that her reflection was distorted? Who could be this nonchalant about something like that, right?

Xisa tried again, tugging weakly at Morg’s sleeve and pointing at the reflection, but this time, her gestures were less urgent and more questioning. In response, Morg just gave Xisa a gleaming smile- much less sinister than that of her counterpart- and pointed at the mirror across the room before giving a thumbs-up. The reflection mimicked her again, though its thumb looked like it had too many joints. Xisa looked at the two Morgs, trying to find strength in her friend’s smile, but she couldn’t get rid of the nausea boiling in her stomach.

Stunned, Xisa returned to her seat, leaving Morg to continue staring at the bird. In the mirror, Morg’s reflection waved and smiled at Xisa, but there were too many fingers on its twisted hand, and the sharp smile seemed almost repulsive. Xisa sighed and looked toward the adults. Her glass of eggnog was still half-full, but she had no stomach for it now. Once again, something moved in her peripherals. Unable to resist, Xisa peeked back at the mirror.

And in the mirror, sitting in the shadowy corner next to Xisa, was Morg’s reflection. But it wasn’t really. Her face looked bloated and swollen, the bags under her eyes sinking so low that the fleshy red nestled within her eye-sockets was exposed. The thing smiled, its teeth jagged and rotten. When it opened its mouth, reddish brown slime oozed out, dripping grossly on the bar counter. With a single gangly hand, the reflection reached up to the skin on its face and began peeling it away, bit by bit, exposing blackened teeth and candy-pink gums, the sinewy red muscular system underneath its face. Bright green eyes- Morg’s green eyes- spun lidlessly in their sockets, looking very much like they might pop out at any moment.

Alright!! I want to leave! Xisa thought, jumping up.

“Xisa? Something wrong?” Maisha asked when Xisa nearly knocked her stool over. Xisa just stared at her, once again dumbfounded.

H-how are they not seeing this?!

Xisa glanced back at the mirror, only to see Morg’s reflection having returned to its proper position, obediently following Morg’s every movement. Not knowing what else to do, Xisa pointed at the exit. Though her expression must not have conveyed the turmoil she felt because Maisha only said, “What’s up? Did it start snowing again?”

Xisa stared blankly at the adults in front of her.

I want to leave. Xisa thought, hoping the message would just telepathically reach Maisha. I WANT TO LEAVE.

“Safya, you haven’t met the girls yet, have you?” Maisha asked, turning back towards Songbai and the other two women. “Xisa, com’ere and meet Safya! She’s just brought us a new book for you!” Xisa woodenly obeyed, feeling somewhat spacey. She only half-listened as Maisha introduced Safya; most of her attention was spent looking over their shoulders at the wicked Morg in the mirror.

Morg’s reflection pressed its hands over its mouth as if stifling a giggle. A too-wide smile spilled out from behind the interlocking fingers pressed against its lips, as if laughing at a joke that only it knew. Then, ever so slowly, it began biting off its own fingers, starting at the knuckles closest to the fingertips and working its way in, its hands slipping deeper and deeper into its mouth. Blood gushed endlessly out from the stubs, staining the area around its lips a bright scarlet, and thick liquid poured all over the bar counter, dripping into the eggnog, staining it a sickly pink. Xisa felt like she might be sick.

I want to leave.

She thought about saying it aloud, but the words felt like a hot lump stuck in her throat.

“…really like that one, right Xisa?” Xisa snapped her attention back to Maisha, who now seemed to be switching back and forth between English and Chinese for Xisa’s sake. Xisa nodded absentmindedly.

Unable to stop herself, she glanced back up at Morg’s reflection. Seeing that it had Xisa’s attention, the reflection’s eyes lit up and it did an excited little jig like some sort of impish clown before emphatically gesturing at Morg, who still stood on the other side of the room. With a dramatic flourish, it pointed at the stool Morg had been sitting on earlier and mimed the action of sitting down and drinking the eggnog. Not seconds later, Morg- the real one, not the reflection- crossed back over the room and sat on her stool, sniffing curiously at the eggnog Xisa had abandoned. In the mirror, the milky beverage was still stained a fleshy pink color.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Xisa watched as a horrible thought occurred to her; Could this fake Morg control the real Morg? Surely her reflection hadn’t always been like this. At one point it had to mimic all of Morg’s actions, had to be controlled entirely by Morg like a regular reflection. Right? But now that it had taken on a life of its own… Xisa suppressed a shudder. Could the reverse be true as well? Could this reflection now… force Morg to mimic it?

Morg took a tentative sip of the eggnog again before scrunching up her nose and pushing it away with a dejected look on her face and laying her head back on the table. Xisa turned back to the reflection. In the mirror, the not-Morg pointed emphatically at Morg again, giddy in its gesturing. Then, with an abnormally sharp fingernail, cut a jagged slice through its own throat and made a theatrical show of dying, blood pouring out unendingly. All the while its mouth lay open, wide and grinning with silent laughter, blood seeping up from its throat and staining its lolling tongue a macabre shade.

With the adults still conversing happily in front of her, Xisa straightened her back and slapped her hands on Maisha and Songbai’s forearms.

“I want to leave.”

Maisha and Songbai both looked taken aback, momentarily shocked into silence. Without waiting for a response, Xisa began beelining for the door. Then, after a pause, turned back, grabbed Morg by the wrist, and dragged her out the door as well.

“I’ll settle the bill,” Songbai said after coming to her senses, “you go after the girls.”

“Wait, that’s not right, I can pay,” Maisha protested.

“What, in slugs?” Songbai rebutted, pulling out a coin purse. “Hurry after the girls before they get themselves in trouble. And see what’s wrong with Xisa, she listens to you.”

“Ahaha alright, alright, so bossy,” Maisha said playfully. After saying quick farewells to Safya and Tabitha, she hurried out the door.

“What was that about?” Maisha asked after catching up to the young witches. Thinking it too much of an ordeal to explain, Xisa just shrugged. Morg didn’t seem to want them to know, anyways. She snuck a glance at Morg, but her friend seemed as happy and healthy as ever, if a bit cold.

“Back to not talking, I see,” Maisha said, tousling Xisa’s hair and helping her into her coat. “You know,” Maisha reminded the young girl, “You can talk to me any time. About anything.”

“Maisha, can I have my sweater back?” Morg asked, tugging on Maisha’s arm. The elder witch dragged her attention away from Xisa.

“Oh, of course! Let’s see…” Maisha began digging through her bag, causing a considerable amount of clanking and thumping, as if stacks and piles of things were being jostled. “It should be in here… somewhere… aha!”

Morg pulled the fuzzy green sweater over her head before wrestling her arms into her black coat.

“Alright,” Songbai said, appearing behind them. “The bill’s settled.”

“Excellent!” Maisha exclaimed, clasping her hands together, “What would I do without you?”

Songbai smiled gently. Although time had progressed well into the evening and the sun had long since set, that persistent layer of stratocumulus clouds so characteristic of Cyewen’s winters had somewhat parted, allowing for the silvery moon to light their path home.

*

“We would never choose to do this,” Xisa’s mother rasped as she gripped the hilt of her knife. In her other hand, she held Xisa so firmly that Xisa could feel a tingling sensation as the circulation in her hand was slowly cut off. Her vision swam with tears as she looked back and forth between the people around her. To her left, her father sat up against the wall, his figure sallow and emaciated. To her right, her mother stood with Xisa in her grasp. Outside, a heavy snow fell. Xisa could feel the cold drafts of air seeping through the gaps in their house, a damp chill that made her muscles ache.

“Then don’t,” a girl in front of her begged. Xisa squinted at the dark haired child before her, thankful for her solidarity.

“She’ll die soon anyways…”

“What are you doing, reasoning with this curse,” came the authoritative voice of her father, still booming and frightening even in his sickly state. He turned to the girl, spittle flying out of his mouth. “Shut up, girl. You’re lucky. It should have been you that we traded.” Xisa tried wrestling out of her mother’s grasp, but to no avail. “Now give me that,” her father said, snatching the knife out of her mother’s hand. Without hesitation, her father plunged the knife into Xisa’s stomach.

Xisa gasped in fear, her heart racing, struggling against her mother’s iron grip. With half-lidded eyes, she felt for her stomach. Luckily they had missed Yuzan, who hid by her ribcage. Warm liquid doused her hands in a dripping red. She felt no pain but she knew she would die. Her vision began blurring, blackening. The apathetic faces of her father and mother appeared above her before her world went truly dark.

Xisa bolted up in bed, a fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead, her breathing labored. Yuzan peeped his eyes open and hopped onto Xisa’s head upon seeing her awake. Xisa reached up to gently rub the space between his bulbous eyes, her breaths slowly evening out. After a while of this, she lit a candle and grabbed one of the books on her bedside table, Yuzan settling on her shoulder.

Light and Shadows; A witch’s guide to bending light.

It was an interesting book, though not nearly as interesting as The Art of Shadow Manipulation. But Maisha had said that Light and Shadows would teach skills compatible with a witch’s mana, so Xisa had taken to reading it in the evenings in place of The Art of Shadow Manipulation.

After several minutes of reading by candlelight, Xisa found that she couldn’t focus, her mind still too caught up in the bitterness of her dream. She wanted to shove all that fear into a box and never look at it again. She wanted to put that whole dream into a box and push it all down into the abyss, but…

Gently closing her book, Xisa tip-toed her way to the window and watched the pines sway in the winter wind. Clouds completely covered the sky in a dull grey blanket and little patches of ice spotted the ground. Xisa glanced over at Morg to make sure she hadn’t woken her. But much to her chagrin, her friend was missing! Xisa immediately checked under the bed to find the harp missing as well.

Stupid Morg, she thought grumpily.

With a sigh, Xisa crept back to her bed and curled up under the covers, careful to set Yuzan back on his spot on the wall. Pulling the blankets up over her head and shutting her eyes tight, she tried to slip back into sleep. But with her mind teeming with chaotic thoughts and scenes from her dreams, sleep did not come.