Mal watched the smoke and flames, his heartbeat already spiking as panic took hold. The scene was so similar to his vision that he checked his clothes for errant sparks and ash.
“And that’s where Cara is?” he asked, really hoping it was not.
The ghost nodded gravely. “She’s lost in there. I hate this part. Every time.”
“I can see why.” On a sudden impulse, Mal slipped off one of the bracelets he’d shoved on. He gave it to Marigold, who now seemed as solid and as real as any human. “Here. It’s St. Nicholas.”
“Santa?” she asked, putting the bracelet on and tightening the cord around her tiny wrist.
“That’s one of his jobs, yeah. But he’s also a patron of children.”
“I can feel the blessing in it.” Marigold smiled, trying to be brave. “We should go. I can help lead you, but Cara is lost, and the house doesn’t always stay the same. The mirrors are especially bad.”
Marigold wasn’t kidding. This mirror world was a labyrinth, with a hundred doors and strange rooms and the constant cloud of thick smoke obscuring his line of sight, making it impossible to get a handle on the layout of this sick carnival funhouse.
The little ghost did her best, calling out to Cara and shutting doors that led the wrong way. “This isn’t it,” she said at one door. “This is just another trick. I remember this room from Mother’s stories.”
“Is that what this place is? Memories?”
“Memories and dreams,” Marigold replied. “It’s hard to know which sometimes. I think the gate being here makes them all collect and linger. Like a magnet.”
And she’d been stuck here too, a little piece of iron with no choice but to hang around.
“I pulled Cara away from Morningside when he tried to trap her, but I only had my own hell to pull her to. And then she got upset and ran, and got lost. I think Morningside’s spells still have some hold on her. He’s a very powerful caster. If he gets to her before we do…”
“I’ll find Cara first,” Mal promised.
All his noble intentions of being a willing sacrifice fell away. Mal had one goal, and it was to find Cara and keep her safe and alive and healthy for the next eighty years.
Because he loved her.
Mal always sort of assumed that falling in love was a grown-up thing that would involve some choice. See a woman, assess, and decide which way to swipe. But with Cara, there was no conscious decision at all, and there never had been. He never got to choose loving her. He just did. And even though it all happened fast, it still took him a while to understand what had happened. He loved Cara. He couldn’t unlove her if he tried. He needed her in his life. Every part of her. Her front side. Her back side. Her no-nonsense, workaholic side. Her drop-it-all-to-rescue-a-kitten side. Her weird, sweet side. The side of her face with the dimple that appeared when she laughed. He definitely needed that side in his life.
And he’d go into literal hellfire to get her. He didn’t stop being terrified of the flames, but every time he started to go into flight mode, he thought of Cara, took a breath, and went on.
* * * *
Cara kept bumping into herself. Literally. She’d run down one corridor, evading the smoke and flames on her trail, only to hit a mirrored wall that appeared from nowhere, stopping her in her tracks and usually making her fall to the floor.
Worse, the mirrors were always distorted and discolored, making Cara’s reflection into a monster. She screamed at blobby creatures, at faces melting into Dali-like horrors, at long dangling arms and short stubby legs, only to realize they were all just her.
Eventually, her throat went raw and her eyes dried out. The screaming and crying stopped as her terror drained into exhaustion.
She hadn’t had a sip of water in days. Nor a clear breath.
She was dying.
She had to be dying.
Why else was she lost in this broken world, her vision fracturing and her memories fading? Cara’s feet keep circling through endless corridors and rooms, and her mind kept circling back to the floor of the parlor. Even within this nightmare, she dreamed of working, patiently assembling the wooden pieces and sanding and polishing the design until it was there, complete and shining and reflecting her face in the wood grain.
As if she put her whole soul into it, and there was nothing left for her body.
Cara knew she was slowing down, weakening. Sometimes she just stood at an intersection of the house, frozen, not knowing where to go. She’d pick a direction at random, but nothing ever changed. There was always fire crackling, ready to consume her if she stopped to rest.
She hung her head, her dirty hair falling in front of her face. What was she even fighting for? She had no reason to live. No one who cared about her. No one who would even try to get her out of this hell.
“Cara!”
Confused, she looked up.
And saw Mal.
Before Cara could take another ragged breath, she was in Mal’s arms, being lifted until her feet dangled above the burning floor.
“Madre de Dios, I found you,” he said, his voice rough. “No one knew where you were. We thought you took off. But then Marigold…”
Cara smiled at the little girl. “She dragged you along too?”
“To find you and bring you out of here, yeah. And we have to hurry. I don’t know how much time we’ve spent in this little hell pocket, but everyone is downstairs now, and we’ve got to get there before the wrong spell gets cast.”
“I’m not sure I can get out the way you came in,” Cara said. She winced as she felt something pulling on her, like a magnet, but for her very being.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can feel some sort of…connection, like a rope or a chain that’s yanking on me. I think it’s Morningside.”
“Undoubtedly,” Marigold said. “That’s why he tried to imprison you in the first place, to have you at hand tonight. He’s calling you back. Even though I was able to divert your path to here, the connection must be very strong.”
Mal looked grim. “Then we keep Cara way from him, whatever it takes.”
Ignoring Mal’s pronouncement, Marigold stepped to Cara, who knelt down to be on the same level as the ghost.
“Miss Cara, I once possessed you when my presence was summoned. This time, it is your presence that is being summoned. Will you let me possess you once more? It may be our only chance.”
“Do you think it will confuse Morningside’s spell?” Cara asked, puzzled.
“Allow me to merge with you, and all will become clear.”
“Ok,” Cara said. “Let’s try.”
“Say my name,” Marigold told her.
“Marigold Edith Egan,” Cara said formally, “I give you permission to possess me.”
The little girl’s form wavered, becoming much less substantial. She took a step forward, as if she intended to walk right into Cara.
And then she did walk right into Cara, their forms blending. Cara felt a shiver as Marigold’s spirit settled over her own.
“You ok?” Mal asked nervously.
Cara didn’t respond, too focused on the inward conversation with Marigold, a melding of minds.
And yes, everything became clear.
“Cara? Are you all right?” Mal put out his hands, helping her to her feet.
She nodded, feeling a new resolve. “Yes, I understand what needs to happen now.”
“Which is what? Let’s get out of this place and you can explain.”
Cara felt the pull again. She said, “Morningside is still trying to call me back to him. He’s at the point in his spell where he needs my presence, and my soul.”
Mal’s hands tightened around her shoulders. “It’s ok. Just resist it, and I’ll help you.”
She smiled at Mal, standing up on her toes to give him a kiss. “That’s the catch, Malachy Salem. I don’t want to resist.”