Page 72 of The Broken Mirror
“Would you mind telling us who you are now?” Filomena asks.
Jack looks relieved that she asked. Filomena gets the sense that he hasn’t been totally put at ease yet. His hand’s been resting close to his hip, where his Dragon’s Tooth sword is sheathed, this whole time.
“Of course, darling. So I’m Mary Contrary, as you know, but, more important, I’m the regent of Westphalia. After your parents died—rest their souls—I was put in charge of the kingdom on a strictly administrative level. You see, I was your parents’ adviser during their reign. They found mycontrary nature very helpful in the decision-making process. But I was also their close friend.”
Filomena sees Jack relax, his hand coming away from his hip.
“You knew my parents?” she asks, surprised.
“Yes, my dear, I knew them very well. Your mother’s and father’s deaths were the greatest griefs of my life. They were like family to me.”
Filomena feels she might cry, hearing this. A swell of relief rises in her chest. Abruptly, and without thinking, she stands and runs to hug Mary. Mary smells very nice, like a garden.
“Oh, oh my,” Mary says, flustered. “My dear,” she says, stroking Filomena’s hair affectionately.
Filomena pulls away and wipes her eyes. Apparently she’s started crying. How many times will she cry today? That’s not the way to start ruling a kingdom. But then again, she is only twelve.
“Can you tell me what they were like?” Filomena says, sitting back down on the couch next to Jack. She’s always been hesitant to ask people about her parents, worried that she’d hear rumors or something untrue. But if there’s anyone to ask, it seems like it’s this woman. Filomena’s distanced herself from the thought of her birth parents almost every time they enter her mind. But being in their castle now, where she was born and where they lived, she’s curious. She’s ready to hear about them.
“They were the best kind of people. Such full, open hearts. They loved to laugh, to be in each other’s presence. They would hold fabulous open dinners at the castle once a fortnight, where any citizen from the kingdom was welcome to drop in. They were beloved, and they loved Westphalia. And they loved you, Filomena, even though they barely got a chance to know you.”
Filomena tries not to cry again, but she can’t help it. She’s leaking. Jack puts his arm around her. Hearing about this set of parents is making her think, too, of her adoptive parents in North Pasadena. How long has she been gone? How is her mother doing now? She wishes she could hug her mom. It all feels like so much pressure, all of this. And now she has to run this kingdom?
“Mary,” Filomena says, “I’m scared. Even if I do become queen, I’m so young. How can I run a kingdom?”
“I’m sure this is all very overwhelming for you, Filomena,” Mary continues. “I know you grew up in the mortal world and have only recently learned about your involvement in our world. But already you’ve done such a tremendous amount of good. I’ve read the papers. People across kingdoms have told me about your bravery, how you’ve helped them. You have a lion’s heart, and that is what the ruler of a kingdom needs. Whatever else you need to know, I’ll be happy to guide you through. I’ll be here with you. And trust me, I’ve been helping to run this kingdom for decades—besides during Queen Olga’s takeover. I know what I’m doing.” She winks.
Filomena feels the tears recede, replaced by something ferocious and daring. Her heart is pumping. She wipes her cheeks.
“Now, I know this is all moving quickly, but I think that it’s best to work fast on your coronation,” Mary says. “The sooner, the better, as far as the ogres are concerned. To give you a brief update: Since you broke Queen Olga’s spell, the reign of terror has ceased, but ogres still patrol the borders of Westphalia, and things have been known to get messy. As soon as they get wind you’re here… Well, I don’t want to know what that will look like. Time is of the essence. We can get some rest this evening, but a ceremony first thing tomorrow might be the ticket. How does that sound?”
Filomena’s taking it all in. Ogres on the borders. The kingdom still in danger. Queendom tomorrow. Can she handle this?
She has to. “Good,” she tells Mary.
Filomena smiles weakly at Jack, hoping her false confidence is convincing. Ready or not, queendom comes.
But before she can get too comfortable with the idea, a loud crash sounds from the bowels of the castle. Jack sniffs the air. Then a stricken look washes over his face.
“Ogres.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVENTHEWITCH OFEASTPHALIA
Eastphalia’s market is a bustling place. Wooden carts drive down narrow walkways filled with rich red carpets, woolen caps, beautiful wicker furniture, and all varieties of fabrics. On each side of the walkways are wooden booths selling everything from marbled cuts of meat to lush vegetables and herbs to the most fragrant flowers Gretel’s ever smelled. She’s been eyeing one booth in particular: It has a stack of silks she’d love to take a closer look at, butjust as she touches the silks to determine if they’re real (she has a great sense about these things), Hortense yanks her away.
Now, Gretel, Alistair, Hortense, and Hortense’s pet frog—aka her husband, aka cursed Prince Charlie—are all following page boy John down a narrow alleyway.
“Are you sure we’re allowed in this area?” Alistair says, tapping John on the shoulder.
John turns around with an impish grin on his face. “Oh, definitely not. We’d get in so much trouble if anyone saw us walking over here. But don’t worry, that’s why we came at the busiest time of day. No one will even notice, they’re too busy hawking their goods!”
The group weaves through alleyways for a few more minutes in silence. Not total silence, since around them is total chaos, but none of them speak, weaving and winding in single file. This is really reminding Gretel of the ancient Greek myth of Daedalus’s labyrinth. She really hopes that Hori trusts this John, because if he ditches them, Gretel will have no idea how to get out of here.
Finally they come to a small wooden hut tucked between two rowdy booths serving street food. John motions for everyone to stand back, then knocks on the door with an elaborate sequence of taps and pauses that sounds like an advanced Morse code. They wait.
Then a frail woman opens the door, squinting. “Johnny!” she says, her arms flinging open in a welcoming hug. “Whatare you doing, my boy? I thought I told you to visit me here only in emergencies.”
“I know,Obasan, but thisisan emergency, actually.” He motions to the alley’s shadows, where Gretel, Alistair, Hori, and Charlie are standing. Except for Charlie, who’s actually squatting.
