He sleeps in my bedroom until we are ready. We gather plants for the portal-opening spell from my mother’s garden, dry them, and, three days later, arrange them on the floor of the stairway. Every so often Faris pauses to glance in the mirror or over his shoulder. The creatures in the mirror, he says, are ready for him. The monster, he says, is pounding outside the ballroom door. Then, I hear it―the monster that wants him.

Boom. 

Boom. 

Boom. 

Lu gasps. The monster! Her heart falls.

“Faris! I hear it! ” Lu’s hand shakes as she places a marigold on the fifth stair down, two handbreadths to the right. Faris nods, lips pressed together. 

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done.” His eyes are dark from lack of sleep. He puts a pine needle down three inches from the center of the mirror. Leaves and flowers are scattered in a vague pattern over the platform and stairways. 

“Do you have your pan?” Faris asks. Lu picks up an iron skillet. “Ok, stand there.” He points to five leaves to the left of the mirror. Lu drags the skillet over. Faris picks up his own and stands on the other side.

“Three,” Faris begins.

“Two...” They both raise their pans.

“One.” The pans woosh through the air. 

A breeze hits the leaves and they swirl in a magical dance. Lu squints. Farris lets go. The pans arc toward the mirror in slow motion, then CLANG! the mirror shatters into a million twinkling stars.

Shards fall around them. Lu flinches and covers her head. She feels glass cutting her arms. Slice, slice, slice. Each wound is worth it. The booming of the monster has stopped. Farris is safe. The last of the glass lands musically on the floor. Lu relaxes and stands--then stumbles at the sound of a scream.