I shake my head and bite my tongue.
“You really are a worthless bitch. You couldn’t help Wil, and you cannot help Thora. Just watch.”
The mirror ripples. The dark version of me disappears to reveal Thora. I grasp the edges of the mirror and peer inside. Thora is in the square, crying. Some young teenagers poke her shoulders. Rage flares in my chest when one boy calls her ‘stupid.’ The frame of the mirror cuts into my palms because I’m gripping it so tightly.
The mirror ripples again, and this time shows Thora at home. Mama serves her a tiny bowl of cabbage soup while Thora cries and rubs at her stomach.
I shake the mirror and scream. “No, Thora! Sweetie!”
The mirror ripples and shows me my dark self again.
“No, no, no! Go back!”
“Poor, poor Thora. Bullied and starving. Oh, but wait! I suppose you could have helped her. You could have married Albert and given Thora the life she deserves. Instead of nearly starving every winter and wearing your hand-me-down clothes.”
“Stop it.”
“But you were selfish, just like you have been with Brahm.” She glances at him again. “Oh, dear. He doesn’t look so good.”
I turn to find Brahm’s skin withering as his green shirt begins to turn black.
“He was such a sweet, talented, and handsome young man. And you’ve been torturing him all these years.”
“It’s not true.” I turn back to the mirror and shake my head. “I didn’t know he loved me then.”
“Oh, but you did.”
The mirror ripples again, revealing Brahm eating dinner with my family years ago. I remember that night. Wilhelm had invited Brahm over for dinner shortly after the bonfire incident, and I kept my head down the entire time. In the mirror, I watch Brahm ask me questions or try to pass me food. I roll my eyes or ignore him every time, causing his expression to sink into despair.
The mirror warps and shows what happened a few hours later. Brahm and Wil were outside drinking wine when I emerged from the back door.
Wil asked me, “Where do you think you’re going?”
I ignored my brother as I unbuttoned the top of my dress, my cleavage nearly spilling out.
“You’re fourteen; you shouldn’t be sneaking out.”
I raised my eyebrow at him. “Are you going to tattle? Like you’ve never snuck out. Plus, you and your friends don’t want me around. What do you expect?”
When I turned to ruffle my hair in the reflection of the window, Brahm stared at me with drooping eyes.
Moments later, my first boyfriend, Matz, arrived to take me drinking with some friends in the woods. I skipped forward, jumped into his arms, and kissed his lips. As we departed, I snapped my head back to glare at Brahm. He hung his head and walked away, leaving Wil sitting outside the house all alone.
The mirror quickly moves through other images of Brahm watching me interact with my many boyfriends. One after another. It all stopped when Wil died. I had to get serious. The mirror shows me working my booth as Brahm watches from the square.
“And you chose to ignore him. Tormenting the poor boy for years until he snapped—punching Lord Albert for you and making himself an Offering.” She hums a slight giggle. “You know, seeing Albert’s hands on your body nearly shattered Brahm’s heart like Heinrich’s. Look at him. That boy would die for you—is dying for you. You. The worthless, uneducated bitch. And now, Brahm will never have a career teaching music or the large family of his dreams.”
Shame builds inside me, but I shake my head. “It’s not my fault.”
“Oh, but it is. You have an immense amount of power; you just need to harness it. You really have no idea the effect you have on people, do you?” She cackles and throws her head back. “If you had married Albert and taken better care of your sister, none of this would have happened. Brahm would have been forced to move on and marry a nice girl.”
My heart hammers in my chest. “Shut up.”
“You do more harm than good to all around you.”
“SHUT UP.” My blood boils with rage, and I glare at her.
“Everything is your fault, including Wilhelm’s death.”
“No.” I press my hands against my hot ears, but I can still hear her awful voice.
“Yes. You even thought so yourself—ridden with guilt all these years. When you get angry, you feel something. Do you not?”
I suck in a sharp breath. “No, no, no.”
“Yes. The foggy feeling. The feeling of power. The feeling of…magic?” She hums a giggle. “You should take your own life before you harm anyone else. Offer yourself to Hexegot right now, and maybe she will have mercy on your boyfriend. Maybe she will fix Thora. Maybe she will reunite you with your brother.”
I shake my head and look into those black eyes. She draws up the bloody hem of her dress and unsheathes the dagger. Turning it in her hands, she holds the blade before her chest.
“Are you ready to stop hurting everyone around you? Offer yourself to Hexegot. Let her possess you.”
I gasp when my hands are holding the dagger, pointed at my chest. My breathing grows shallow. I watched her grab the dagger, not me. Now the sharp tip of the blade stares at me, gleaming, waiting, and wanting to plunge into my heart.
Maybe I should.
Just end it all right now. I’m a terrible sister. I should have respected Wil’s wishes and stayed away from Brahm from the very beginning. If they hadn’t been fighting, Wil would have never gone to work that fated day. Did I really cause his death with my anger?
I should have married Albert, giving Thora what she needs. Did I really cause Brahm years of heartache? I swear I didn’t realize.
I trace my finger along the carved hilt of the dagger.
The branch. The mountain. The flower.
Like the hazel branch, Wil was protective and strong—but, also like a bough in the wind, he was flexible. He was just looking out for me. Now that I’m an adult, he would have loved the idea of Brahm and me together. His death must have been a coincidence because I would have never wanted to kill him.
Like the mountain, I can be tough and stubborn—but I’m also proud of who I am, and for taking care of my family. They need me.
Like a flower, Thora is precious and delicate—but she’s also sweet and perfect the way she is. Thora brings joy to everyone she meets.
She’s wrong.
Dark mirror Gisela is wrong.
“Do it, Gisela. Plunge the dagger into your heart,” the mirror me whispers. “Give yourself to Hexegot.”
“Why does she want me? She’s killed so many Offerings. Why not possess another?”
“You know why.”
I shake my head, although I fear I understand. “No.”
“Do it, Gisela.”
“No!” I shout, staring at my dark self in the mirror. “I love my family. I love Brahm.”
I stab the dagger into the glass. The mirror shatters into a thousand of silver shards and flecks, opening into a shadowy courtyard.
The Water of Life
MY KNEES HIT THE FLOOR as I cradle my head. It’s gone. The dark mirror Gisela is gone. A foggy veil of pain lifts from my head in relief. Before me is the courtyard. Is this where Bergot said the Water of Life would be? Maybe it can help Brahm. I jump in excitement and rush to him.