"Ha," Jimson said quietly, and suddenly a crystal clear — if somewhat warped, as if it was being viewed through a bubble — image of what was the filthiest kitchen Lily had ever seen appeared in the mirror she was holding. "Fly's eye," Jimson said. "Best we're going to get."
Well, the little brutes were definitely Dwarves, probably digging an illegal mine. The Tradition was definitely at work here, however badly twisted, for there were seven of them; seven was the right number for a Snowskin Princess. The fact that Rosa's looks didn't match the Snowskin Path didn't seem to matter this time — a Snowskin had "cheeks white as snow, lips red as blood and hair black as ebony," and Rosa was much more in the line of a Princess Dawn with her rosy cheeks and golden hair. Well they would have been rosy if they hadn't been smudged with dirt and tears, and it was getting hard to tell she had "locks of gold" what with all the bits of forest snarled in them. Lily's wince turned into a cringe; the poor child was definitely the worse for wear. A Princess, even one with Rosa's unorthodox schooling, was ill-suited to being a servant and cook. She was indeed bruised, dirty and looked exhausted. And behind her trailed a long chain, binding her to the hearth.
"Find me where that cottage is," Lily said grimly. "I want to get to her before the Huntsman tracks her down."
If this was the Snowskin Path there was a logical approach that would compel The Tradition to throw a lot of power on Lily's side to make this right again — what was more, when Lily broke her disguise, it could be as herself and not as the evil Queen Sable. That should make it possible for her to get the girl safely away before revealing that she was also the Evil Stepmother. It was pretty obvious now that The Tradition was moving in such force that Lily needed Rosa to understand the deception that she had been perpetrating as Queen Sable. She had only met Rosa a handful of times, all on formal occasions, in order to keep herself as the mysterious Rescuer just in case such a thing would be needed, and to make sure Rosa never felt she could depend on Lily to save her at any point, but a Fairy Godmother was the sort of person who made a lasting impression.
"Have you seen enough for now, Godmother?" Jimson asked.
She stood up. "I have," she said. The reflection disappeared, and one after another, more glimpses flashed across the mirror's surface. Jimson was tracing a path back to the Palace, from reflection to reflection. When he finished, he would have a clear way to the Dwarves' cottage that he would read to her. She in her turn could transfer it to a map.
Meanwhile she had preparations of her own to make. A second transformative spell — probably best to make it part of a cloak — something that might break that chain...and something to use if she couldn't break it. Whatever path The Tradition was trying to force, it didn't much matter. Both ended in a spell of sleep. It was a great pity there weren't any Princes lying idly about for this moment, but she would manage. Without a Prince and a kiss, the thing was harder to break, much harder, but not impossible. She stepped through the mirror to her own castle, where she had everything she could possibly need, taking Jimson's mirror with her.
As soon as she stepped across the frame, the castle resounded with a beautiful bell tone, announcing her arrival. She hadn't gotten more than both feet on the carpet of the Hall of Mirrors when she was swarmed by her Brownies, all of them in their typical earth colors.
Brownies were, traditionally and Traditionally both, the servants and helpers of the Godmothers. Being half-Fae, Lily got more than her share of would-be aides and companions. This time she was glad of it, for the ingredients she would need for the sleeping potion were best when gathered fresh.
Brownies were smaller than Dwarves, of a similar build, but less muscular. They tended to look quite pleasant, jolly even, with round little faces and cheerful expressions. So when her crowd of helpers swarmed her, Lily was still more than tall enough to see over the heads of all of them, and direct who to fetch which component.
When they were all gone, leaving her alone for the moment, she pressed one hand to her forehead, trying to concentrate. "Plans," she said, half to Jimson. "We need plans. We can't just keep solving one crisis after another. We have to anticipate what might happen — "
For once, the Mirror Servant's voice was not bored, nor heavy with irony. "My dear Godmother," he said fondly, "you and I have worked together for many years. Centuries, in fact. If you can do without my services while you make your potions, I will try to anticipate all the paths that might be walked, and uncover as many possible solutions for each as I can."
Lily held up the mirror and gazed with astonishment at Jimson's disembodied face. "You would do that for me? After all the abuse I've heaped on you lately?"
Jimson laughed. "When one is trapped in mirrors for so many centuries, one learns which reflections are the true ones. You are the kindest Godmother I have ever served, as well as the one with the most difficult and trying Kingdom to keep stable, and I can tell when it is frustration speaking. Just put me down here, where I won't be distracted, and make your potions and disguises." The corners of his eyes crinkled a little as he smiled. "If you will trust me with this, it will be a pleasure to act as an advisor instead of a mere — reflection."
Lily sighed with relief. She had long known that Jimson was far more than an "ordinary" Mirror Servant; for one thing, she had inherited him, rather than creating him, and he was much, much older than she was. But now, it seemed, he was showing yet another side of himself that she had not expected. "I'd kiss you if you weren't on the other side of the glass," she declared. "I promise never to threaten to smash you again."
Jimson chuckled. "Now there is a reward indeed!"
There was another row of mirrors here, each reflecting a different interior. These did not have to be left covered, since no one but herself and her staff would ever see them. It was a pity they were all one-way, but having that many mirror-passages concentrating their magic within the walls of a single building was dangerous enough without making them work in both directions. She stepped through the one that deposited her just outside her workroom and put Jimson's mirror on a table just outside the door.
Just as the workroom of a worker of darkness stank, the workroom of a Fairy Godmother generally was awash with heavenly scents, and Lily's was no exception. Because each Godmother was a little different, each used a different "signature" base for her potions, and each worked her magic in different ways, you could often identify one of them merely by the scent of her room. Not necessarily the potions themselves, because by the time you got done concocting, the potion was often odorless and tasteless, but definitely the scent of the room.
In Lily's case, the main note was the cool sweetness of April Lilies. Beneath that was mint, just enough to keep the lily scent from being cloying; lavender to cut it further; and a hint of Elflock, which only grew in the Fae realms. Most of her potions used that formula for a base. For Lily, the scent was always that of home, her own comfortable and secure castle.
She stepped inside the room, which was actually two rooms divided by a wall, both heavily warded and shielded against interference of any kind, and against what went on within them. Neither room had windows, and both were lit by an enchantment on the ceiling itself. The Potions Room looked like the still-room in any noble house, save only that there was a great deal more of the apparatus than was ever in such a room — glass vessels, small ovens, crucibles, alembics, beakers, glass pipes, funnels, little charcoal braziers over which a single item could be simmered....Walls and floor were stone, impervious to just about anything that could end up tossed against them. Sometimes there were accidents; a bit of miscalculation, and the next thing you knew, you were looking for a broom. Sometimes...well, sometimes Lily's temper got the better of her, and when things had gone wrong repeatedly, as they sometimes did...a broom was definitely in order.