The lantern held a candle inside a small glass globe. It wasn’t one of the pieces that came from Trifles and Folly, and neither was the Foo dog statue. The lantern didn’t seem to have any supernatural juice, so it wasn’t what was causing our problem.
This was one of the rooms with a working fireplace. The opening was covered with a metal curtain, and a vintage poker and tongs sat in a holder next to the hearth. Two chairs were arranged facing the fireplace, and if weren’t for the damned mirror, I bet the room would have felt charming and cozy.
The mirror hung over the mantle. It was the focal point of the room, and the piece I had been avoiding. Anywhere else, I would have thought it was a handsome piece with its ribbon-like bronze frame. For its age, the silver backing on the mirror was in very good condition, and I remembered thinking how lovely it was when we had it in the shop. Now, it seemed sinister.
As I stared at the mirror, I caught a glimpse of a shadow behind me. I wheeled, and saw nothing, feeling foolish as Teag and Anthony stared at me.
“Something wrong?” Teag asked.
“I thought I saw something,” I murmured, turning my attention back to the mirror. I decided to leave the Chinese Foo dog statue for last.
I took another step toward the mirror, fighting my fear. As I stared into it, I felt turmoil, as if beneath the placid silver surface wild seas roiled. Just in case, I took one of Teag’s pouches of salt and shoved it into my jeans pocket. When I got within arm’s length, I saw that the mirror was gray, not silver, and at this distance, I could make out ghostly images sliding across it.
I touched the mirror, and tumbled into its depths.
Someone – something – was in the mirror. I could see motion out of the corner of my eye, but every time I turned nothing was there. I felt like Alice, gone through the looking glass, adrift in a silvery world.
A world where I was not alone.
Claws skittered against a hard surface behind me. I wheeled, but the silver room was empty. I could hear muffled voices in the distance. Some were chanting. Others screamed in terror.
A shadow slid across the silvery surface of the walls, but like a hall of mirrors, it was impossible to know what was real and what was reflection. I was cold, disoriented, and afraid. The shadow man
skirted the edge of my vision, and I had the sense the spirit was enjoying my fear, feeding from it. I was afraid to move, fearful that I might get lost in this reflective realm, unable to find my way back.
Then I saw him. The shadow man loomed ahead of me. The image was more solid than a normal shadow, its form elongated, not quite human. Although I couldn’t make out any features, I knew it was watching me, making up its mind. Malevolence radiated from the image and my heart thudded. It was the predator. I was the prey.
The shadow rushed at me, impossibly long arms outstretched, claw-like fingers grasping. It came at me like the wind. With one hand, I grasped my agate necklace, and with the other, I grabbed a handful of salt from the pocket of my jeans and threw it at the shadow. Just for an instant, it wavered, but I knew it would come at me again.
Strong hands grabbed me from behind, hauling me backward. My hand lost contact with the mirror.
Only then did I realize I was screaming. I came back to myself, caught in Anthony’s tight embrace and fresh from the horror of the vision, I fought him, possessed with sheer, primal terror. His strong hands gripped my wrists.
“Take it easy,” he coaxed. “You’re back now. You’re safe.”
I was shaking, and I felt sick to my stomach. Anthony eased me into the chair by the fireplace. It was several more moments before I could give even the briefest account of what I had seen. In the meantime, Teag had already sprinkled a line of salt beneath the mirror and had begun blowing a fine dusting of charcoal powder over the reflective surface, which reduced its powerful energy to a dull, distant roar.
“You were screaming bloody murder,” Teag said, looking utterly unnerved. “Good thing we’re the only guests at the inn, or someone would be calling the cops.”
One thing was undeniable – the mirror had not possessed the power to draw me into it at Trifles and Folly.
“I saw the shadow man in the mirror,” I told them, once I caught my breath. “It’s become a gateway, a portal. It was looking for me, and it attacked. Thanks for getting me out of there.”
“Do you think the mirror is the key?” Teag asked.
I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “No. It’s dangerous, and whatever spirit was inside it is malicious, but I don’t think it’s the focal point.”
Just for good measure, I touched my palm to the agate necklace on my chest. Then I turned to look at the Foo dog statue.
When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth, Sherlock Holmes had said. I had the feeling that I was staring the ‘truth’ of Gardenia Landing’s haunting in the eyes as I looked at the Chinese sculpture.
I put out my hand, and let it hover above the shiny blue glaze that covered the stylized little dog. “I think I’ve found the problem,” I said.
Chapter Eight
“YOU THINK THAT dog statue is bringing everything else to life?” Teag asked incredulously?”
“It’s giving off really strong energy, and right before the mirror drew me into the vision, I felt a spike in power from the direction of the Foo dog,” I said, eyeing the blue sculpture warily.
“It’s not one of our pieces,” Teag said, moving closer for a better look. He frowned. “You know, these dogs never look friendly, but this one looks meaner than usual.”
I peered at the dog and had to agree. The dogs – some people called them lions – were intended to be fearsome guardians with bared teeth and long claws. Some of the statues veered more toward cute while others tended to be more authentic, looking like watchdogs you didn’t want to cross. This Foo dog was about the size of a real Pug, and it had a particularly nasty expression and a mouthful of jagged teeth. “Why not just neutralize it and destroy it?” Anthony asked. I had to admit, it was a logical question. And unfortunately, I had a fairly logical response.
“We could, but then we might never know what set it off,” I replied. “I doubt anything with such a strong energy vibration would have attracted a buyer. Rebecca seems to have good instincts.” I shrugged. “A lot of times, people bring us objects that they can’t sell or give away because no one will take them. Even if they can’t say exactly why, they know something about the piece is wrong.”
“Why do you care what set it off?” Anthony persisted. “If you can get rid of it, then the rest of the pieces in the inn should settle down and behave themselves, right?”
“The problem is, we’re starting to see a pattern,” Teag replied. “First the opera glasses, now the Foo dog, items that might have witnessed an event that made an imprint on their energy. But neither item seemed haunted until something set them off. So what turned them ‘on’?” he asked. “We need to figure that out because whatever happened to them might have happened to other items we haven’t found yet.”
“That’s a lovely thought,” Anthony replied. He looked to me. “It’s up to you, Cassidy. What do you want to do next?”
“Let’s hedge our bets.” I said. I pulled out another bag of salt and the small bag of charcoal from Teag’s bag and shoved one bag in each of my jeans pockets. Then I took out the handful of protective gemstones and tucked them in also, just to be safe.