The Mirror

For one hideous moment, she thought it was a gift. The mirror stood at least six feet high and had been lent against her front door, its width wide enough that her front porch felt dwarfed in comparison. It was, she supposed, a work of art – if one had questionable taste that leaned towards wooden representations of goblins cavorting throughout the heavyset oak frame. She paused, keys in hand, and realised after a moment of unmitigated horror that it was more than likely just another of Sienna’s antiques, brought home from work – for whatever ungodly reason – and currently awaiting transportation to – hopefully – somewhere far, far away. Lord knew the house was already filled with enough accumulated debris from her housemate’s chosen vocation of antiquities dealer that one more would most likely go unnoticed. But there was something unsettling about the mirror, something that didn’t sit right with her. Perhaps it was the face of the women who’d been Peer Gynt-ed into the below, the look of abject terror. Perhaps it was the leering faces of the goblins and imps as they clutched, and dragged, and pulled… whatever the reason was, Keira knew she didn’t want it in her house for any longer than it had to be.

“The Goblin Bride,” came a voice from behind her. “Specifically sought, located and bought for a very high-end buyer. Don’t worry – it’s not from Clara!” Keira huffed out a half-hearted laugh and turned to face her best friend and junk accumulating nemesis. “God only knows what she’s gotten me for my 21st, but I wouldn’t put it past her -“

“To get you the Mirror of Doom for your coming of age? Sorry, but this one is just on a brief hiatus while the gallery is being renovated. It’s not like we don’t have the space…”

“And yet, given her history, I wouldn’t put it past her. This thing is truly, really…”

“Terrifying? Awe inspiring? Enough to put you off mirrors for a good long while?” Walking past her, Sienna went towards the mirror and grasped the right-hand side, bracing herself against its weight. “Do me a favour and help me get this thing inside before someone decides they need the world’s creepiest mirror for their own house?” Keira sighed and turned the key in the lock. “Fine. But let’s put it somewhere out of the way so that I don’t get nightmares, Ok?”

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It was in the living room. Right there, leaning up against the fireplace, goblins still attacking, leering and dragging their poor victim away. The poor girl’s hair was so tangled, so caught up in the claws-

Stop it! Stop it right now and go back to bed – this is not a drill. But she couldn’t help it – she’d heard it, the skittering, chittering – the sound of claws being dragged across a Victorian home’s bare wooden surfaces. It was not coming from the mirror it was not coming from the MIRROR! The darkness of the room seemed intensified, as though any and all objects had faded into the background in the presence of the Mirror which had somehow grown in strength despite the muted fragments of Its surroundings. And then she heard it, turned away as she was, slow, and deep, and melodious. Seductive. It raised every hair on her arms.

“Hello…”

It was coming from the mirror.

He was tall – well over six feet. And he was blue. Not a dull blue, either, but a deep, rich blue. A smurf blue. There was nothing smurf-like about him, however. He wore dark black…pants? That looked as though they’d been painted on, with knee-high boots to match. His long, dark hair was pulled back, but Keira could see that it reached his shoulders, and it showed black against the crimson of the shirt he was wearing. The entire ensemble was offset by a black waistcoat with embossed golden swirls. The entire effect was quite startling and would have looked quite piratical were it not for the fact that where there should be fingernails, long, curved claws extended and where there should be pupils were instead cat-like slits, staring intently back at her. That, and the fact that he was blue. He filled the entire mirror. One arm stretched across his chest whilst the other rested at a right angle, the hand cupped under his chin. Goblin… she thought.

“And who might you be, little one?” Keira took a deep breath and steadied herself. “I might ask you the same question. And what are you doing in the mirror?” He chuckled then, and the sound was deep and melodious.

“So curious, little one. And I asked the question first, fair is fair and ‘tis only fair you answer me first.” He didn’t appear inclined to move forward Keira noted with some relief. The Living room suddenly felt small and overcrowded. “My name is Keira, and I’m the person whose living room you’re – sort of – standing in.”

“I am called Maelgwyn, and this portal was not of my doing, though appreciate very much I do its… benefits’. Noting the direction of his gaze, Keira hastily crossed her arms across her chest and cursed her threadbare tank top and shorts combination. The night had felt overly warm, but Keira was feeling none of the heat now as gooseflesh rose on her arms. He chuckled again and dropped one arm to his waist whilst the other stretched out towards her, finger pointing. The glass of the mirror rippled and Keira gasped, taking a step back. But the effect was only temporary, and the goblin made no other move. “These are ancient magics and the portal is not yet strong enough for me to cross this Beltane eve.” Keira sent a silent prayer of thanks for that until she noted his words in their entirety. “Not yet strong enough? What’s that supposed to mean? And what’s Beltane?” Maelgwyn frowned before crossing his arms in an overly exaggerated manner, mocking Keira’s own stance. “Aye, Beltane tomorrow and ‘tis mighty sad I am to see that humans know so little of their own heritage. Beltane is life, girl – it represents the peak of Spring and the beginning of Summer – all the mysticism of the earth is at its strongest and this is the night before such a day shall pass.” That didn’t make her feel any better. Correctly interpreting the look on her face, the goblin grinned, and Keira could see the sharp points of his canines. “You had no idea that there was more to celebrate tomorrow than your coming-of-age, did you now? And what a day…” Now it was Keira’s turn to frown, and she looked suspiciously at the goblin in the mirror. “My birthday? How do you know it’s my birthday tomorrow? I thought you-“

“Didn’t know who you were? Ah, lass, I was just jesting with you. You’re Keira Byrne, and your family hailed from the Old Country before departing for your heathen clime. ‘Tis watching you I’ve been since you were just a scrap of a thing, barely three feet tall. You’ve grown… most comely.” Keira shuddered at the leering appreciation in his voice and took another step backwards. “Don’t goblins have better things to do than watch young girls?” She snapped. “You say you’ve been watching me? I think I would have noticed a six-foot tall – blue – goblin stalking me.”

“Stalking is such a human word. I’ve been more… waiting. And, Keira, I’ve been very patient.”

“Patiently waiting for what, precisely?” He grinned again, and once again Keira was unnerved by the sharpness of his teeth. “For you, lass. Patiently waiting until you came of age…” The cold in the room grew more pronounced, and Keira’s gaze was unwittingly drawn to the disturbing carvings on the mirror’s frame. At the goblins. At the girl, ensnared in their claws. “You can’t just… lay claim to me. I’m a human being, and I am not interested in being your goblin bride, of age or not.” The goblin just smiled, and leaned forward, one palm coming to press against the glass. As before, the glass rippled before settling down once again, but even that small bit of activity was enough to send Keira’s heart racing. “So it’s figured it out, you have?”

“The title of the mirror was clue enough.” The goblin’s smile turned feral, and he curled his palm inward, and tap, tap, tapped his claws against the glass. “But Keira my sweet – it’s called the Taking of the Goblin Bride, not the ‘asking’. And I’ve asked you no question this eve.” Unbidden, Keira’s hand crept up to the necklace at the hollow of her throat where a small, wrought iron Celtic cross rested. A gift from her Irish grandmother, the cross gave her a small measure of comfort as somewhere, from the back of her mind a long-hidden memory surfaced. Her grandmother gnarled and wrinkled with age giving her the cross on her sixteenth birthday. And never ye forget, my wee darlin’, ‘tis cold hard iron that’ll protect you from the Fair Folk, for they can’t abide the stuff. It’s poison to them. Keira didn’t know if a goblin could be counted as one of the fair folk, but – quick as she dared she whipped off her cross and darted forward, pressing it against that outstretched palm in the mirror. The acrid smell of burning flesh filled the air as the goblin howled, gasping and clutching at his sizzling palm.

“You little witch! You’ve marked me! Where did you get that?” It was Keira’s turn to laugh now, and she did, carefully fastening the cross back around her neck. “What does it matter? I’m not taking it off, and I’m sure there are other tricks to keep your kind well away from me. It may be Beltane tomorrow, but you’ll have to look for your bride elsewhere, Maelgwyn. I’m not going anywhere.” The goblin glared at her and clutched his hand. “That’s as well may be, my pretty one – my witty one – but there are other days. Samhein, Imbolc, Lughnasadh – the veil between our world thins and I will be there, watching, and waiting. You can’t hide behind your tricks forever.”

“Bring. It. On.” With one last final glare, the goblin, smoke still rising from his right hand made a single gesture in the air, and the mirror shimmered, then was still. All Keira could see was her reflection, pale and furious, staring back at her from the mirror’s depths. Quickly, Keira ran to the linen closet and got out the biggest, darkest sheet that she could find, carefully draping it over the mirror until not even the tiniest portion of the frame could be seen. Then, carefully, she made her way back to her bedroom where sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. What was that? Crossing to her bookshelf, she quickly found what she was looking for and pulled it out – ‘An Encyclopedia of Faerie’. Beltane was only hours away, and she had work to do. First thing on the list – get Sienna to move that mirror to the gallery’s warehouse. She opened the book and settled down to read.

It was going to be a long night.