All together a little over seventeen hundred words were written, and I’m now just about eighty-five hundred words short of two hundred seventy-five thousand words. Inching ever so closer to three hundred, which is right about where I expect this sucker to end.
But that’s the future, this is the present, and at the moment we’re back in the library and talking about mirrors. As they relate to dreams. And what do you know . . .
All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015, 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)
Erywin handled the question. “It’s an event in your dream—in this particular dream—designed to show you, once and for all, what’s actually happening.”
This did nothing to clear up his original question. “And what is happening?”
“From what we understand, you’ve been involved in adjuration—”
“It means to make an earnest, solemn appeal.”
Deanna joined the conversation. “Based upon what you’re already told us, isn’t that exactly what this dream girl has done? Since the very first dream?”
Kerry only needed a few seconds to remember the events in his dreams and understand what Erywin and Deanna were saying. “Yeah, that’s what she’s doing. But, what’s a mirror got to do with this dream?”
Now you know a new word: adjuration, which is “To make an earnest, solemn appeal.” Near the end of the next chapter you’ll learn why this is given this name, but for now not much is being said.
This mirror thing, though? Yeah, they’re down on this:
“You told Coraline this morning that the girl reached the top of the stairs, paused, then turned right.” Deanna leaned slightly forward. “Yes?”
He sniffed once and wiped his nose. “Yes.”
Deanna gave herself just a moment pause before asking the next question. “Did she do that again when the dream happened this time?”
Kerry stared down at a point near the instructor’s feet. “Yeah.”
It’s a good thing Kerry’s looking in our direction so he can’t see that stare— Deanna expected Annie to give him a strange look, and she half expected her to speak after this next question. “How?”
His brow tightened. “What do you mean?”
“My love—” Annie lay a hand on Kerry’s left arm. “You weren’t on the landing. How did you see her?”
A puzzled look came over Kerry’s face. “I guess I . . .” He shrugged before turning to Annie. “It’s a dream; things like that happen.”
“Kerry—” Deanna’s tone was soft and reassuring. “Everything you’re told us about these dreams seem to have a literal action: at no time have you mentioning things happening where you weren’t present.” She took a quick breath, wondering how he’d answer the next question. “What’s on the landing wall facing the stairs?”
For a few seconds it appeared he might not answer before chuckling. “Oh, yeah: there’s a mirror.” He turned to Annie. “Mom put it there because it’s supposed to be good for the feng shui—”
Annie looked at him gravely. “Kerry.”
He turned back to the instructors; when he spoke a hint of nervousness crept into his voice. “It’s supposed to keep all the bad energy coming through the front door from getting upstairs and . . .” He stopped once he realized no one in the room was interested in hearing about a physiognomy practice his mother picked up while they were living in California.
“There is a way you could have seen the girl turning to the right, Kerry.” Deanna wrapped her hands around her knee. “If you were unaware of your point of view, and you didn’t realize you were looking in a mirror, then it would seem as if the person were turning in the opposite direction.” She held up her hand when it appeared Annie was about to speak. “You suspect this, don’t you?”
First, Annie gives Kerry the stink eye because she saw what happened with the girl, and knows he wasn’t there watching her. Second, it took me about five minutes to figure out the word “physiognomy”, because research, you know? And third–there’s a mirror on the landing?
There sure is. How do I know. Because I told you a mirror was on there. Let’s look at a passage from the discussion Kerry had with his mother about his wet dream, with the line in question in bold:
Louise sat silently for several seconds before she hissed out her reply. “You’re excused.”
Kerry bolted from his chair and trotted towards the stairs, running up to the first floor. He paused for a second at the top of the landing, checking his red face in the large mirror his mother mounted there to “help the feng shui of the home” before turning left and nearly running into his bedroom, and shutting and locking the door behind him.
There you are: proof in the novel from only about two hundred and fifty thousand words back! Though it’s in a slightly edited form because editing, right? But this is why I plot, because just like in the first novel, I do something that’s going to come back about a quarter of a million words later and become relevant. The mirror has been there all the time; the trick was remembering the sucker. Kerry didn’t: now he does. And so it seems, something else is coming to mind . . .
After nearly five seconds, when it became apparent Kerry wasn’t about to answer Deanna’s question, Erywin stepped in and asked the question everyone expected. “You know who she is, don’t you?”
He looked to his friend with some pain in his eyes. “You seem to know what’s going on, Erywin: why don’t you just tell me.”
She brushed away some hair and sighed. “Believe it or not, I can’t—we can’t. Sometimes there are rules that need obeying, and our research indicates that this is something that is all on you.” Erywin shook her head. “I’m not even certain what would happen if we did tell you what we know.
“Kerry, we’re not trying to put you on the spot. But it seems what’s happening now occurs in phases, and in order to move out of this phase and into the end phase—” She held her hands up as she pressed herself back into your chair. “You have to say it: you have to say her name.”
He looked away from everyone, lowering his head so that all he could see was a spot on the floor. It was only after ten seconds of shoulder-slumping silence that he felt a hand on his an a voice whispering to him. “Moyata polovinka.”
He turned to Annie and gave her a sad smile. “My edin i samo lyubov.”
Annie leaned in close. “You know this girl?” He nodded slowly. “Then just say her name.” She turned her hand around and slipped her palm against his. “It’ll be all right, I promise.”
Kerry held Annie’s hand tightly. He sighed a couple of times and sniffed back the last of his runny nose before exhaling slowly. “She’s—” He gulped hard once as he half-closed his eyes. “She’s, um . . .” This time he closed his eyes tight as he sucked breath through clenched teeth. “She’s . . . Damnit.” Tears began flowing from his eyes once again. “I can’t say it.” Kerry started panting as he looked down the line of women seated across from him. “It’s like it’s right there on the tip of my tongue and I want to say the name but something won’t let me.” His breath came in ragged sobs as he hunched over and stared down at his knees. “I don’t know why this is happening.”
A comforting hand gently patted his shoulder from behind as a soothing voice spoke to his concerns. “I think I can answer that question—”
Wait: who is answering what question?
Whomever it is, they see that Kerry’s having a lot of trouble spitting out this name. Here we also see there are rules in magic–no, must resist using A League of Their Own meme here–and those rules don’t allow any of the women, who appear to be in the known, to tell Kerry what’s happening in his head.
But before that happens, will the mystery guest sign in please?