17. Straight through the Mirror
“A lamia?”
“I’m almost sure of it,” Electra said, but Jack shook his head.
“You mean to say that a lamia visits us at night and drinks our blood?”
“It could be,” said Medea. “Here, read this passage.” She showed him a book titled Bloodthirsty Creatures and Evils. “Lamias are on the list.”
“And this one says that lamias lurk in the night and drink young men’s blood before sending them into a lethargic state. That is why none of you have felt her presence,” Cassandra said, holding the book Lamias.
“Lamia,” Jack said thoughtfully. “Lamia. Where did she come from?”
No one answered.
“She can’t have appeared from thin air, right?”
“Right,” said Hector. “But if it’s really a lamia, we must think of a way to get rid of her.”
“First of all, keep your windows shut at night,” Electra said.
“No, on the contrary, keep them open and wait for her,” Medea said. “If a lamia has been climbing into your bedrooms, that means you have a good chance of catching her.”
“We can do what you suggest, but we’re not the only young men in Hollow. We can’t be present near every window.”
“What we need is to find out where that creature came from and how we can get rid of it,” Hector said. “Let’s go back to searching. Your library is big enough; we might find something else that can be of help.”
“I found a chapter about the cave where the evil creatures live,” Electra said, thumbing a handwritten manuscript. “It only talks about the cave and that some McMadicus locked it.”
“McMadicus? Who’s that?” Jack asked.
“McMadicus was a blacksmith. He lived centuries ago,” Hector said.
“What do you know of him?”
Hector shrugged. “I’ve heard only of one McMadicus, a famous blacksmith who made everything from armor to iron furniture. Father used to tell me about Blacksmith McMadicus when I was a child.”
“When do you say he lived?”
“Centuries ago.”
“Could you be more precise?”
“I don’t know. Four or five hundred years ago.”
“He’s a historical figure then. There might be information about him in the books of Hollow’s history,” Jack said. “Search some more. If we don’t find anything, we shall go to the public library.”
They stayed in the library for another hour, then continued the search in the morning, had breakfast, and returned to the shelves with books, but didn’t find any other helpful information and decided it was time to visit the town’s library.
Hollow’s public library was on the West Bank, and none of the witches had ever had a problem entering it. But today there was a problem. Hollow’s history books were placed under protective glass stands and locked. The five volumes were old and handwritten, and the mayor’s written permission was necessary for reading them.
“Kynaston Daley won’t even let us into the Town Hall,” Jack said.
“What shall we do then?” Electra asked.
Jack and Hector looked around the hall with marble columns and iron statues. The place was spacious, with oblong tables and wooden benches. The librarian’s desk was standing against the wall, right next to the glass stands with the five volumes. There was no way they could touch the books without the old man noticing.
“Is there anything else I could do to help you?” the old librarian asked, looking at them over his thick glasses.
“Oh, we just wanted to read the books,” Medea said.
“I am happy that young people nowadays still like reading, but you will need permission from the Town Hall.”
“Maybe you could make an exception?” Cassandra pleaded.
“No, no, my dear lady, that is impossible. If everyone obeys the law, the world will become a better place.”
“Oh, it would take us just a minute,” Electra begged.
“What is it that interests you so much in Hollow’s history?”
While the girls were making up a story about an essay they had to write, Jack and Hector toured the library, peeping at the corners and inside the rooms, searching for another way to get the books. They stumbled upon helical stairs, which led to the third floor, into Hollow’s museum. There was an oak door behind the stairs. It wasn’t locked, and the fellows discovered a cosy room full of books stored in bookcases made of red wood. A modern-looking couch was pushed against the wall, a contrast to the oak-wood chairs and a table with simple ornamentation. Hector reclined on the couch and pointed to the cupboard with wine bottles and long-stemmed glasses.
“Dear boy, please be kind and pour me some wine,” he told Jack.
“You have chosen a bad time for fooling around.” Jack glanced at the wine bottles. “Château Lafleur! Not bad.”
“Do you think this is where the Council Meetings take place?” Hector put his hands under his head and stared into the ceiling.
“I don’t think they’d have the meetings on the West Bank. I’ve heard they meet at the Town Hall.”
“Then whose room is this?”
“Could be a separate room for Professor Northmind, my Grandfather’s colleague, who sends all those books here, or for Duchess Iphigenia and her entourage of those pretentious snobs from high society.”
Jack stopped and stared at something at the inner corner of the room. Hector approached him and gaped at the same thing. “Is this a replica?”
“It’s the real thing.”
When they returned to the hall, the girls were still trying to convince the librarian to let them read the books, but he wasn’t giving in.
“Come on girls, its dinnertime,” Jack said, advancing to the exit. He seemed to be in good mood, which happened only when he had a plan.
“There’s a mirror,” Jack told them on the street. “We’ll come at night.”
“Are you sure?” Electra asked.
“Absolutely. Just like the one in De Roy’s house.”
Late at night, Jack and Hector were sitting on the floor in front of the door of the Lady of Shallot’s room. Once in a while Jack glanced at his watch, drumming his fingers on the parquet floor. He closed his eyes and sat still for half an hour. Hector wasn’t moving either, and none of them was in the mood to talk. All they needed was the right time.
Jack opened his eyes when footsteps came from the stairs. His three cousins appeared in the corridor, with lanterns in their hands.
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
“We’re coming with you,” Electra said.
“It’s not necessary, we won’t be long.”
“Jack is right. Go to bed, girls.”
“We have made up our minds, and none of you can convince us otherwise,” Medea said.
“And besides, there are five volumes,” Cassandra added. “Each of us will take a book, and we’ll finish quicker.”
Jack knew that arguing with them was hopeless. He checked the time again. Then he put his ear against the door and listened. “I think it’s time. She seems to be gone.” Jack opened the door, and one by one, they tiptoed into the dark room. Electra and Cassandra snapped their fingers, lighting up the candles above the loom. The mirror stood next to the unfinished tapestry. Jack touched something behind the mirror’s frame, and a dim light slanted into the room through the glass.
“Is this his house?” Electra asked.
“Yes.”
“Creepy,” Cassandra whispered.
Jack began to roll a gear on the back of the frame, and the view in the mirror changed.
“Not that, and not that. Keep rolling,” Hector was saying while looking at the images within the mirror. “Stop,” he said, when he saw the familiar sight of the bookshelves.
“Let’s go,” Jack said, taking his lantern. “Don’t forget to close your eyes,” he said, before taking a step into the mirror.
Hector waited for all three girls to go inside, and taking his lantern
, followed them. When they opened their eyes, the loom and tapestry were gone, and they were standing in the room with books and bottles. Jack and Hector raised their lanterns and beckoned the girls to follow them. They walked past the stairs and reached the door of the library’s hall. Jack poked the lock with a picklock, opened the door and entered the hall.
Wrapped in total darkness, the place looked ominous and unnerving. They made their way between the wooden tables, looking around at the figures of the knights in armor, at the shields and flags hanging down the walls, and at the high shelves of books with once colorful covers, which in the darkness looked grey and dull.
The locks of the stands with the five volumes were harder to open, but after some long minutes, Jack unlocked them. Each of them took one of the volumes and settled themselves at the feet of the stands.
“Read slowly and attentively. If we don't finish the books tonight we’ll come again until we find anything helpful,” Jack said as they opened the first pages of the books about the history of Hollow, from its foundation in 1122 until the year 1923. They had to read about 801 years, a task that could take more than one night.
For some hours the sound of turning pages echoed in the silence. The first volume was in Medea’s hands. Absorbed in her town’s history, she was eagerly turning the pages, reading about the town’s rulers, the festivals, and the witches that were born in Hollow and later spread around the world, founding their own magical towns. The first volume also told about Hollow’s knights, famous wizards, the conflicts between the white and black witches, and the town’s mysteries, such as the forest, which the dryads had chosen as a habitat, the lake, where the mermaids had found their sanctuary, and the cave, which hid secrets and dangers inside its depths.
“I think I found something,” Medea whispered.
“Read it aloud, but not too loud,” Jack said.
Medea began reading a passage from the eleventh chapter: “The source of all the evil was thought to be the cave known by the name Imgroth. In 1480, upon exploring it, Blacksmith McMadicus found a dark hole, a cave within a cave, Taidgroth, which led to more petrifying secrets and existences. McMadicus then made an iron door and shut the entrance to the second cave. By the order of the Council, he made two silver keys. Later, McMadicus regretted making them for the Council, as their intentions turned out to be dishonest and cunning. Taking both of the keys, he tried to escape the town, but the Council chased him with bloodhounds. When the hounds tracked him down, McMadicus threw the keys into the bronze fountain on the square before the hounds tore him to pieces. One of the keys got caught in the statue of the whistler. The other one was left inside the fountain. It is believed to still be there.” Medea looked up. Dark shadows had fallen across her face, making her eyes seem blacker. “Did anyone understand anything?”
“The Council was able to recover a key, so they still might have it, and someone might have opened the door of the second cave and let the lamia or any other evil being out,” Jack said. “I doubt we can get the key from the Council. I have no idea where they may be keeping it, which means we should look for the second key and lock the door.”
“The key is still believed to be in the fountain? How is that possible? The fountain hasn’t worked for ages. It’s empty. I’ve seen it a thousand times, there is no key inside,” Electra said. “Of course, maybe someone had taken it after the book was written, but why did they not do that right after McMadicus was killed?”
“This seems to be some kind of riddle.”
“You mean why no one took the key that was thrown into the fountain?”
“Maybe they did, but the one who wrote this passage decided to lie.”
“Sounds possible.”
“Why would the historian lie?”
“Then what stopped them from stretching their hands and getting the second key out of the fountain?”
They went back to reading, and stayed at the library until dawn. Nothing else in the books mentioned anything about bloodthirsty creatures, the cave, or the fountain. With the arrival of dawn, they put the books back into their places, and returned to the blue castle.