Chapter 3

Three

D read was an aria pulsing through Quinn's stomach, the music notes stirring inside her and causing nausea to climb up her throat.

Her Mirror-Rite was upon her.

And now, with her four best friends in tow, she disembarked the Cable Car that brought her to the Spirit Sector—the quarter that housed her chosen mirror—and her torture. The Spirit Sector also housed the religious chapels, temples, and abbeys of the five major religions of New Swansea and was home to five infamous mirrors: Beautiful Decay, Midnight, Noon, Winter, and Skulls—although many other mirrors decked the streets.

As Quinn approached said mirrors, one burned with the rays of a dying star, and another one was so white she couldn't make out any image except a barrage of snow—an arctic tundra. The third frame was composed of sixty stacked skulls, and its surface showed mangled skeletons languishing under the liquid silver, hissing and calling Quinn's name.

The mirror's surface previewed the realm hidden within—some of the time. It all depended upon the mood of the creature trapped inside it. These mirrors were gilded prisons housing the most powerful deities in existence. Still, the only way for them to use their magic was to lure willing souls into their realms, and when the god was asleep or presumably not in the proper mood, the surface of the glass prison was merely reflective like a typical mirror. Hence, these deities became Mirror-Gods or Bargainers—most people interchanged the names when referencing them.

"I can't do this," Quinn said, but she didn't have a choice because her Mirror-Rite had to be completed.

Seven years of bad luck was no joke in New Swansea City. It was a place filled with grandeur and danger around every corner, and one did not test their luck here.

"Of course, you can," Giselle Reyes-Vega said, her chestnut brown hair bouncing and framing her dark olive skin. But of course, Giselle would say this. She barely worried about anything. One of her favorite pastimes was collecting, and her entire room at the Viridian—a courtesan club and cabaret—was riddled with trinkets from all over the city. Bells, clock hands, boxes, jewels, books, pillows, blankets, statues, and scrolls all glittered in messy piles around the room.

"We have all challenged a mirror and survived unscathed,"Giselle amended, as though she noticed the mood was still sour.

Quinn's eyes instinctively traced to Jane, who very much had severe consequences from a mirror deal, and the attention didn't go unnoticed because Jane added, "I didn't get my consequences from my Mirror-Rite. I can't dance anymore because of a foolish bargain with the Looking Glass."

Fuck .

The entire group gasped, horrified.The Looking Glass—also known as the Mirror of Nightmares—was said to be the oldest and most powerful god in the entire country.

"Why the fuck would you ever bargain with him?" Jevon Yale asked, his eyes wide as he ran a hand through his unruly blond locks. He wore worry like a police badge over his ruffled single- breasted frock coat with a purple feathered pocket square. As usual, his state of dress left much to be desired, and his blond hair was a moppy mess. The man couldn't keep the wrinkles out of his clothing even if he wished for it upon a mirror. Yet there was still something dangerously handsome about him.

Something in his silent fidgeting and brooding made girls flock to his side.

Jane's resulting glower could turn someone to stone. "Do you think I would have done it if I had a choice?"

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?" Constance asked.

Jane crossed her arms. "Can we focus? This isn't about me. It's about Quinn's Mirror-Rite."

Yes, Quinn should be focusing on her own deal, but Jane had never before offered up so much information about her bad deal, and the entire group was fascinated and wanted to know more. Quinn had about fifteen questions she wanted to ask, but Jane's monstrous glower meant there was no more broaching that subject, so Quinn turned her focus back to her own task.

Anxiety twisted in her stomach as her eyes traced back to the Spirit Sector's mirrors.

Nope, nope, nope. Fucking nope. She was not doing this.

"We should just leave." Quinn's neck stiffened, suddenly aching. "Maybe I should accept the bad luck and move on with my life."

"You can't afford it," Jane said, rubbing at her temples. "You're going to be absolutely fine. I promise."

"Mirrors are evil. They try to make rotten deals all the time." Quinn's eyes shifted to Beautiful Decay, the second most vicious mirror in the city, just behind the Looking Glass. Its surface was flickering molten silver, and it moved like waves crashing in the ocean. Wisteria petals skated in the liquid like ice dancers during a performance, and belladonna flowers and thistles formed the frame. Beautiful yet deadly.

Beautiful Decay was known as one of the worst mirrors in New Swansea. He made terrible deals and punished those who dared bargain with him with long-lasting and gruesome consequences.

There was a reason he was referred to as Poison.

Quinn rubbed her face and stepped toward the mirror she planned to challenge. Midnight. A purple galaxy shimmered underneath the glass, and lapis blue danced like the corps de ballet in Starlight Falls. The frame was made of swirling shadows and shooting stars. The Mirror of Midnight was one of the more harmless ones, speaking only in creepy, useless riddles and rarely harming anyone.

Sometimes, Quinn would watch the god talk with passersby on the street. Like a prison, the gods could communicate with the outside world, talking, luring, and doing their best to get people to enter their realm because the only way for them to make a deal was for a person to enter their mirror.

Midnight tried to talk to people on the street, but she wasn't very successful at it. People tended to avoid her. She was just so creepy.

"At least she's awake," Quinn said. Midnight also seemed to sleep far more than her counterparts.

"True," Jevon whispered as if afraid she'd overhear him. "It's strange how much she sleeps." He whispered because the mirrors could most likely overhear them, which was probably why they were so good at their deals.

All mirrors were tricksters, but some were worse than others.

"What if Midnight tricks me and traps her inside her surface forever?"

"She won't." Constance scrunched her nose. "It's true once you're inside the mirror, you're at its will, and it could trap you inside, but none of them do. If they did that, no one would ever come back to bargain with them."

"And for some reason, the mirrors need the bargains as much as we do," Giselle added .

Her friends' words made her feel better, but getting trapped was still a possibility.

The worst deal anyone could make was trading their soul with a mirror. It was so terrible that no one should ever do it, but desperate times made hundreds of people take desperate measures. The numbers were easy to track because each time someone traded their soul, a new mirror formed in Trapped Souls Row.

"You're going to be fine." Giselle clutched her friend's hand. "The Mirror-Gods won't hurt you because, again, no one would ever come back. It's why no one even trades with the Looking Glass anymore. He hurt too many people, and now no one dares to mess with him—except apparently Jane."

"Once again, I didn't have a choice." Jane crossed her arms.

"Anyway, my point stands," Giselle said. "No one trades with him either for the same reason." Giselle pointed to the Mirror of Beautiful Decay. They have consequences for their actions, too."

Quinn sucked in a breath, her hands shaking. The mirrors' magic only worked inside their mirrors and in deals. Meaning the only way a mirror could use magic—for or against her—was if she entered it or entered into an agreement. And Giselle was right. Most of the gods needed the bargains and wouldn't unwillingly trap someone inside. While their power seemed limitless, it wasn't. The Mirror-Gods were only powerful within their realms, and once a deal was made, the gods were bound to it. Quinn knew all of this, but she couldn't keep her heart from quaking and her mind from splintering. Because once a bargain was set, a mirror could bend the magic however they wanted, creating whatever costs they desired. Quinn said as much aloud.

"You'll be fine." Jevon swished an unruly blond lock out of his eyes. "They can't really bend the costs like that. It's more that they can trick you into a worse cost. Like for example, if someone made a deal to have enough money to feed their family and the person wasn't careful enough with their words, the cost might be that the mirror kills one of their children because it's one less mouth to feed, ergo, now they have enough money to feed their family."

"I don't think that example is helping, Jevon." Giselle shook her head.

It was a terrible reminder of how someone's deal could affect the ones they cared about and could bind more than just themselves to consequences.

"I guess it was a scary example." Jevon shrugged. "But it's not like Quinn is going to trade for eternal youth like that one boy who lost all his empathy to the mirror." Quinn stiffened, but Jevon didn't notice and continued, "She'll be fine. I've never met someone more careful."

"That's also not helpful either, Jevon." Constance scrunched her nose and glowered at him."You are the worst at cheering her up."

Quinn gulped, and she clutched her necklace for comfort, taking another step toward Mirror of Midnight. If this deal were to happen, she needed to suck it up and jump head-first into danger.

But a frisson of fear rolled down her spine, and Quinn's heart stormed, so she clutched the nearest hand she could find.

It belonged to Jane. Her grip was sturdy and comforting.

To perform the rite, she needed to walk into the mirror, and Quinn didn't want any more time to think—to talk herself out of it. She was doing this to negate the bad luck. Doing it for her ballet auditions, and that was all she needed to think about. That was all that mattered.

Ballet.

Always ballet and only ballet.

Without another thought, Quinn stepped forward and touched the mirror.

It felt so cold it burned, so she ripped her hand away, and shock sank into her core. Her heart hammered like bourrée steps—quick and unrelenting, sweat dripping down her temple because her body was responding. And the panic gripped her so tight her lungs burned with the tension.

Jane's eyes stormed as she said, "I think this is a mistake. You're choosing poorly." Before Quinn could respond, Jane wrenched her into the wrong mirror.

Into one of the wickedest mirrors in all of New Swansea.

Beautiful Decay.