Page 53 of Spirit Storm

“I am. Teleport us back to my room. We’ll drop off our patient, then we’ll collect the mirror, and go spend a couple of hours with my sisters.”

“Gotta love a woman with a plan.”

The Concordance Mirror has hung in the upstairs hallway for my entire life. It’s between the main bathroom and the bedroom doors, and is likely the oldest of my family’s magical objects—well, maybe other than Hallowind House itself.

Full length, and with a heavily carved frame, it hums faintly with something that isn't quite sound.

I stand in front of it, and my reflection looks back at me. And then, a half-second later than it should, it finishes the movement.

I've stopped counting how many times I've stood here hoping it will just be normal. That I'll lift my hand, and the reflection will lift hers, and it'll be clean and instantaneous, and I can stop wondering what it means that I’m out of sync.

I sigh. "I wish I knew what was wrong with me."

Asher steps up beside me, wraps both of his arms around me from behind, and rests his chin on top of my head. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Maybe you're just so incredibly special and amazing that your reflection literally cannot keep up."

I snort. "That's not how it works."

"Are you sure?" He tilts his head at our reflection, and his movements are perfectly crisp. "Because I feel like you don't know everything there is to know about magical artifacts."

"That's—" I pause. "That's actually true. Point to you."

"Thank you for recognizing my superior intellect." He steps back and claps both hands together. "And on that note, let's do this."

He places one hand flat on the mirror's frame. He puts the other on my shoulder.

“Wait. Doesn’t your superior intellect think we should put on our boots and coats before we portal to the standing stones and then on to Arcana?”

He busts out in a hilarious smile. “Well played, P. Well played.”

We portal to the Arcana Academy a few minutes later. There’s a soft crack of displaced air as we take form along the treeline, the mirror perfectly upright between us.

Asher still has one hand on my shoulder and one holding the mirror's frame. He takes a breath, lets it out, and we portal again.

We appear in front of the stone castle that houses the Cinderheart Crucible. Then he steps back, tilts his chin up, and gives himself an impressed nod. "Mission complete.”

I chuckle. “Making these little hops is how you got back to me in the cave this morning, right?”

“Yeah. It costs less energy but takes a bit more focus because I have to be precise about where I want to end up.”

“No drifting. I remember.”

"Maybe you could tell Tanner how amazing I’ve been doing the next time I have a lesson?”

I avoid the grotesque door knocker and rap my knuckles on the wooden panel. “I’ll be sure to sing your praises.”

“Thank you.”

Mica opens the door, sees us, and steps back. “You can put it in here.”

The front room of the forge building is cool and quiet, completely different from the heat and noise of the inner chamber. Asher hooks the mirror onto the far wall where it catches no direct light and isn’t visible from the doorway or the windows.

“So this is your precious enchanted mirror, is it?” Brimstone asks, waddling his furry gray butt into the room.

“Yep. Thank you for allowing me to store it here. As mirrors go, it’s a big deal.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Mica shrugs. “There’s no accounting for taste.”