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There’s something to be said for magic mirrors, though Teresa doesn’t know what it is.
They can be simply in appearance, but magically complex, or vice versa. They can be cursed or blessed, they can show your worst fears and deepest desires.
And, unless you are one of the few people who can sense magic, or know the spells to reveal the magic in the mirror, you would have no idea that the mirror you were looking into was enchanted.
Someone has cast something on her hallway mirror. A curse, possibly, or a monitoring spell.
Teresa can’t cover the mirror, or else the person who cast the spell may know she’s onto them.
Instead, she turns on her heel and heads back the way she came–there are other ways out of the house, and she can call Thomas from anywhere in the house.
As long as the rest of the mirrors are normal, that is.
“You want me to subtly diagnose and fix your mirror?” Thomas asks, like it’s an impossible task.
“I’m hosting this year’s masquerade–it’s the perfect time for a drunk guest to ‘accidently’ dispel an enchantment. It happens at least once every year, anyway.”
“I forgot you live in that big house now.”
“You’re here every week.” Of course he is, he and his dream boy still haven’t found their way to each other, somehow.
“I know, I know. It’ll happen this year.”
Teresa’s not convinced, but she doesn’t tell him that.
The shared dreams aren’t guarantees of a future together. Nothing has come of hers, though she’s not yet seen her dreammate’s face.
“I’ll check it out,” Thomas promises, “Did you see that Newt and Alby are engaged?”
“When? Where? Who proposed? What’s their engagement artifact?”
“Like, two weeks ago, I don’t know, Newt, and I don’t know.”
“You don’t know anything. Why do I even talk to you?”
“I’m the only person who can fix your mirrors, apparently.”
“Shut up. I’m going to find out, since you don’t ask questions.”
“I do ask questions! Everyone says I ask too many questions!”
“Well, those are the wrong questions. I’ll see you later, yes?” Teresa hangs up before he can answer–it’s a game for them, one she knows Thomas doesn’t mind.
At least he agreed to help her with the mirror; she’d thought it would be harder to convince him.
Thomas doesn’t openly inspect the mirror during his weekly visit to Teresa’s, but he picks up on the same enchantment she has. There’s something layered behind it, like it’s lying in wait, but he can’t figure out its purpose unless he dismantles it, and Teresa doesn’t want him doing that.
He’s not well-known for breaking enchantments, but they’re really one of his strongest talents. There are few things that come as easily to him as ruining others’ work.
It’s what made him so good in the battle circles, when he was still allowed to participate. He could disband shielding quicker than anyone else, even with intense spell layering.
“Minho, how do you feel about coming to Teresa’s masquerade with me this week?”
“Do we own anything we can wear to a masquerade?”
“We know we do,” Thomas rolls his eyes. One of them attends every year–most people in the area do. It’s a good way to feel out any new arrivals and newly trained mages, as well as do stupid shit.
He and Minho are really good at the stupid shit part. Everything else, not so much.
Well, Thomas isn’t. Minho makes his social rounds look easy, and then he tells Thomas everything later.
“Yeah, sure. Why?”
“She needs my help with something.”
“Ah, am I your distraction?” Minho does a weird thing with his eyebrows that is probably supposed to look cool or whatever.
It doesn’t.
“If I need one. I’m still not sure what’s going on. Teresa wouldn’t let me look today–too suspicious, apparently.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Minho says, “Takeout for dinner?”
“Newt and Sonya are coming over, remember?”
“Right, right. And Alby and Harriet aren’t invited for some reason.”
“They were invited, they’re both working nights this week.”
“I don’t miss that.”
“We’re on the night rotation next month, dumbass.”
“Shhhh. Let me live in peace.”
“Shouldn’t have decided to live with me, then.”
That comes out a little too sad, not nearly as lighthearted as Thomas intended it to be–Minho sits up in his chair properly, he’s so concerned–but he doesn’t push when he sees whatever is on Thomas’s face.
Thomas isn’t one to run away from his problems, but when it comes to Minho, that seems to be all he knows how to do.
Thomas has been attending these masquerades since he was young, though children are typically relegated to a warded room and left to their own devices for the most part.
Teresa’s sent him a very firm dress code anyway.
He and Minho step into the hallway, and immediately Thomas can tell what Teresa was talking about.
Whatever it is, it’s awfully strong–does no one else feel it?
If she hadn’t asked them to be discreet, Thomas would chuck the whole mirror out of a window right now.
It doesn’t seem to have ill intent, but there’s so much going on, so many people in the hallway, that it’s hard to tell.
He can’t linger in the hallway all night, but between the two of them, he and Minho feel out what’s going on.
Slowly, he strips away some of the layering, revealing only further layering and nothing that seems dangerous.
Why go to all this trouble if it’s not for a hex or curse? Thomas’s job isn’t to question the motives of whoever did this, but he and Minho are going to have a lot of fun debriefing this one if it ends well.
Thomas loses track of time as they alternate between mingling and working on the mirror.
Being busy doesn’t mean he gets out of dancing–Sonya, Harriet, Teresa, Alby, Gally once, Brenda, Newt, Minho three or four times–they always seem to find each other–and many others.
The dance floor seems to pull him back in every time. It’s harder and harder to go back to the mirror, but he does it.
“Any luck?” Teresa leans in close to whisper to him at one point. It seems like the masquerade should have wrapped up by now.
“There’s a lot of layering. Nothing dangerous yet, but it’s hard to say. It’s strong magic, too.”
“If you and Minho need a break, your normal room should open for you.”
“There’s only one–” She’s gone before he can tell her that there’s only one bed in there.
She doesn’t mean at the same time, right?
They’ve been here a while, and he is tired, so he goes and tries the door.
It doesn’t open.
“Break time?” Minho’s already taken his mask off–it’s not likely that any of the other guests will come back here, so Thomas unties his as well.
“Yeah. But the door isn’t opening.”
“Let me try.”
Thomas steps back and Minho twists the knob, shoving his shoulder against the door, but nothing happens.
“Like I said,” Thomas puts his hand on the door, intending to push off and go find Teresa.
Minho catches him before he can hit the floor, barely.
“Maybe we just both needed to be touching it,” Minho says. Or at least that’s probably what he says; their faces are very close together and concentrating is hard.
“You must be really out of it, huh?” Minho guides him into the room; it’s the same as always.
“You take the bed first, I’m going to shower.”
Thomas rolls his eyes, but only when Minho can’t see.
He’s not sure how long he sleeps–the clock that was on the nightstand is flashing, like the power went out at some point and it was never fixed. But the door must open with only one of them, because Minho’s not in the ensuite or the room. He’s sore all over, and he can’t tell if it’s the mattress or exertion.
Thomas finds him dancing with their friends; even under their masks, everyone looks tired.
“Back to work?” Minho murmurs, right against Thomas’s ear.
He’s here to help Teresa out. He can’t get distracted.
The mirror seems to be more heavily enchanted than before he left, but he can’t figure out why.
Maybe the perpetrator is here, and noticed that they’ve been taking it apart.
Thomas strips the layers more aggressively. If that’s the case, then he doesn’t need to be as discreet anymore.
He and Minho go back to the room twice more; each time they come out, they linger less amongst the crowd.
“Man, I could use a good nap. Don’t tell Teresa, but that bed is terrible.”
“The floor would be worse.” Thomas points out, but he’ll sleep there if he has to.
“No, let’s just share. I bet I’m more comfortable than the mattress,” Minho grins at him, but it’s strained at the corners.
It’s been so long. Thomas doesn’t want to cross the room and open the curtains, but it must be near sunrise now.
The clock is still flashing on the nightstand.
He and Minho settle in under the covers, but Minho’s sitting up only a minute later.
“Thomas, do you always sleep like a board? Relax.”
Thomas can’t relax, because then he might do something stupid like try and kiss Minho.
“Come here,” Minho arranges them so that Thomas is the little spoon, “Go to sleep.”
The mattress feels better now, somehow–maybe Minho was right.
Or maybe it’s like with the door. They have to be together to make things work.
They should try that on the mirror…
Thomas is asleep before he can work out a new plan with Minho.
Teresa opens Thomas’s door slowly. Finally.
They’ve been orbiting around each other for years; a normal masquerade would never have been enough for them to get here.
She’ll probably never be asked to host another masquerade, either.
Before she eases the door shut, she sees that the clock on the nightstand reads 9:24 PM–who knew an hour and a half could feel so long?