Lily opened her eyes. She was standing in her bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. The runes in the golden frame no longer glowed, and the mirror’s surface had ceased to swirl and pulse. It was just an ordinary mirror in an ordinary bathroom, showing two ordinary women. Really, the only odd thing about the scene was that one of the women was entirely naked.

Lily’s reflection blinked as she did. It moved its head as she did. It moved its arms as she did. It smiled in relief as she did.

Behind her, Maya’s reflection broke into a smile. “You’re… in sync again.”

Lily nodded with her reflection, though something still troubled her. “Let’s see if this is really back to normal,” she saw herself say.

Lily knelt to retrieve a discarded pair of pink panties from the bathroom floor. She watched herself tentatively step into them and slowly pull them up her legs, snapping them into place at the top. A wave of relief passed over her as she realized that she could once more see and feel her clothes at the same time. What a strange thing that was to be grateful for.

“How do you feel, Lily?” Maya asked.

“Sane,” came the reply. “Like I can finally put this nightmare behind me.”

“There’s still Monday’s meeting to get through.”

“Don’t remind me! We’ll figure something out, I guess. But first, I’m going to go find something more to wear.”

Lily winked at her reflection, and she and Maya left the bathroom. Then everything went black, and a cruel wind whistled across the desolation, prickling Lily’s bare back with goosebumps. She shivered, a movement that was her own—her first since the fall.

She had felt that something was off, but struggled to articulate it. Now the whole terrible realization crashed down on her. Her bathroom was the wrong way round—left was right and right was left. She had seen her reflection, moved, spoken, and dressed with her, but the movements and words were not hers. She had merely been copying, involuntarily. Reflecting.

The wind picked up again, assaulting her now from the front, the thin fabric of her panties providing scant protection against the cold. Then the darkness began to lift, and the wind was replaced with the sound of murmuring voices, snickering and giggling among themselves. The air smelled suddenly of chalk, and Lily found herself standing before a blackboard.

“Come on now, Miss Harper, you should know this,” said a deep, rich voice that Lily instantly recognized as her mathematics teacher for her final year of high school, Mr. Barnum. “If you’re going to distract the class like this, I expect you to have full knowledge of the material.”

A peal of laughter echoed through the classroom behind her, accompanied by a couple of wolf whistles. “I can’t wait for you to turn around again!” shouted the class clown, a boy named William.

Lily’s breath caught in her throat. She was standing in front of her old math class, chalk in hand, dressed only in a pair of thin pink panties. Even if she had known what the teacher had asked her to write, she could hardly have concentrated on it.

“I-I-I…” she began, the words drying in her throat.

“If you don’t know the answer, return to your seat,” said Mr. Barnum—young, handsome, Mr. Barnum—his voice edged with discomfort. Out of the corner of her eye, Lily could see he was resolutely focused on the class in front of him.

A chorus of male cheers erupted behind her. Lily stared harder at the unfinished equation on the chalkboard. Her knees were beginning to shake, and she could feel a bead of sweat dripping down her back.

Then the classroom vanished, and she found herself back in the bathroom. Her reflection smiled, a vicious, menacing grin, and hooked her thumbs into her panties, then slid them all the way down. She twirled them around her finger a few times before tossing them in the laundry hamper in the corner. With another wink, the reflection departed.

Lily heard the cheers before she saw the chalkboard. The equation remained unfinished, and she felt a new draft around her nether region.

“Woohoo! Yeah! Take it off!” shouted her classmates.

Mr. Barnum had risen from his desk and stomped towards Lily, but stopped short of getting too close or touching her. His face was red, almost as red as Lily’s own. “Miss Harper!” he exclaimed. “Really, this is not appropriate class behavior!”

“Yeah, it is!”

“Shake that ass, girl!”

“Silence!” Mr. Barnum shouted at the unruly class. Then, turning back to Lily, while pointedly avoiding looking directly at her, he said, “Miss Harper, to the principal’s office, at once!”

Lily looked around desperately. Her panties were nowhere to be seen, and neither were any other loose items of clothing. The whole classroom’s eyes were on her—rage and disappointment from Mr. Barnum, lust from the boys, mocking amusement from the girls.

“L-like this?” she stammered, moving to cover herself.

“Yes, exactly like that,” Mr. Barnum said. “If you feel that this is suitable attire for my class, I am sure you will have no problem wearing it to the principal’s office. Though I warn you, she may have a difference of opinion.”

The class broke out into uproarious laughter. Lily could only bite her lip and make futile gestures to cover what they’d already seen. Eyes focused on the floor, she started toward the classroom door.

The door opened not into the school hallway, but her apartment’s bathroom. She looked out at her reflection, dressed in a hoodie and jeans, and felt the relief of fabric against her skin. At the same time, the sides of her mouth moved up against her will, forming a cruel smile.

“Are you enjoying yourself in there?” she asked herself, mouth moving without the command of her brain. “Wait, don’t tell me… I don’t care!”

Lily threw her head back and laughed. “You’ll be glad to know that I’m enjoying myself out here. Very much indeed.” She slipped her arms inside her hoodie and foisted it over her head and onto the bathroom floor. “Twenty-two years, Lily, twenty-two long years of feeling… well, feeling exactly how you’re feeling now. A life spent dividing time between disconnected dreams and a body puppeteered by someone else. A long waking nightmare.”

She shimmied out of her jeans and stood before the mirror in nothing but a white tank top with a hem that rested slightly below her navel. “I couldn’t help but notice your… discomfort… earlier. I think you need to learn to appreciate your body a bit more,” she said, sensually sliding her hands down her hips. “I certainly am.”

With another wicked grin, Lily’s reflection left the bathroom, plunging her world back into cold darkness. The wind whipped at her exposed bottom, making her shiver, but she was grateful that it was her own shiver, her own movement.

“Lily… uh… where are your pants?” asked a woman’s voice.

Lily found herself standing in someone’s backyard, grass tickling her bare feet, moon and stars shining in the dark sky overhead. Plumes of smoke rose from the barbecue to her right, and her nostrils filled with the smell of cooking meat. But of more immediate concern was that everyone in the yard was staring at her—some in disgust, some trying to stifle laughter.

“She slipped into something more comfortable!”

“Look, she doesn’t have a bra on either!”

“Always thought you’d be a landing strip type of girl.”

Blushing furiously, Lily slammed a hand over her crotch.

“Lily, what the hell?!” came a voice from the house.

A man rushed out—it was Brad, Lily’s ex. They had still been dating at the time of the barbecue.

“Man’s coming to claim his property!”

“Don’t worry, dude, we’re just looking!”

Brad was fiddling with the tie at the back of his barbecue apron as he rushed to Lily’s side. “What’s gotten into you?” he whispered harshly, handing her the apron to cover herself with.

“I-I-I-” Lily stammered. As soon as she grasped the apron, the scene dissolved.

Things continued on in this fashion. Lily found herself reliving memories both familiar and half-forgotten, with the new twist that she was experiencing them wearing only a short white tank top that barely contained her breasts and exposed everything below her navel. She re-experienced nights out, lectures, family meals, even sports days, in this way.

“Damn girl, you know how to party!”

“Lily, uh, I think you forgot something this morning?”

“Lily! What has gotten into you?”

“I don’t think that’s how shirts and skins is supposed to work…”

Just when the experience was starting to get a little less mortifying, her reflection reappeared and removed the tank top as well, leaving Lily completely naked, just as she had done for the first dream.

“Woo! Shake it!”

“Is this, like, a performance art thing?”

“Where are your clothes?!”

“It worked for the ancient Greeks, maybe she thinks it’ll help her.”

For that’s what these were—dreams. Her reflection had said as much. This was life inside the mirror. No wonder her reflection had so badly wanted to escape.

But, being that these were dreams, and were already playing out so differently from the real events… well, maybe that gave her some freedom. None of this was real, despite the sensations.

“Lily… uh… where are your clothes?” asked a woman’s voice.

It was the third run of the barbecue. Steeling herself against the crowd’s focus, Lily ignored the woman, the voices of the other guests, and made an immediate sprint for the house.

“Look at her go!”

She almost knocked Brad over in her hurry. “L-Lily, why are you naked?”

“It—they—oh Brad!” Not being able to think of a good explanation, she settled for hugging him and crying into his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back. “You’ll be okay. Here, take my apron.”

“Th-thank you,” she said, looking up through tears. Brad could be sweet sometimes.

He untied the apron strings and pulled it off, handing it to Lily. “I’m… still a bit confused about what happened,” he said.

“Me too,” Lily said, slipping the apron over her neck. She reached behind her back to tie it in place, realizing that the garment did little to hide her butt. Still, it was a start. With this, she could further into the house and—

But just as she secured the knot, the dream faded out.

Warm water splashed her face. She was naked again and covered in soap suds. This was the one where she was taking a shower in her college dormitory when the fire alarm went off. In real life, she’d managed to get a towel before having to evacuate—which had been bad enough—but this dream usually played out with her being dragged out into the quad by an overzealous RA, soap bubbles still clinging to her skin.

Not wanting to go through that again, Lily rushed out of the shower and grabbed a towel before the RA could enter the bathroom.

But as soon as she felt the fabric wrap around her body, the dream changed.

She now found herself at last year’s Sphinx Christmas party, surrounded by drunk colleagues. Of course, she was naked. And it was increasingly apparent that if she wanted to have enough time in a single dream to do anything of consequence, she would need to stay that way. She cursed her reflection.

“Lookin’ good, Lil,” said a very drunk Tom.

“Whoa, how drunk are you?” asked Priya, who herself could barely stand.

“I wish I was,” Lily muttered, pushing past her.

In the real version of this memory, Lily had left the party early with a splitting headache. In this version, she picked her way past her drunk colleagues, doing her best to ignore the wolf whistles and shocked gasps, and headed for the ladies’ room. She looked at an overloaded coat longingly as she passed it, but resisted the urge to take anything from it. She needed to find somewhere to be alone, somewhere to think, and that wouldn’t happen so long as she was cycling through all these dreams with people gawking at her.

At last, she pushed through the ladies’ room door and entered. But instead of a public bathroom, she found herself standing in the middle of her own bathroom, in her own flat, staring at her own mirror with its ornate golden frame.

A thought occurred to her. Having left the Christmas party early, she had not actually been inside the ladies’ room at the party venue, and thus had no memory of it. Clearly, that affected this strange dream world.

The mirror was a blank, unreflecting surface. Lily never saw her reflection in the dream-memories, so that was not unusual. In fact, it was a relief, for it meant that she could control her own body. And now that she was alone, she would be able to think.

But wait, the mirror was not entirely blank. Though it did not show her reflection, it did seem to show something else. Faint red letters, written backwards. What did they say? Lily slowly read from the right side.

LILY

Her name! It was a message for her!

LILY IT’S MAYA

From Maya!

LILY IT’S MAYA I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE

Lily’s heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to focus on backwards reading. Maya was trying to help her! She hadn’t been fooled by Lily’s reflection after all.

SHE’S ASLEEP

Lily bit her lip. Would Maya be able to help her, or would she just be the mirror’s next victim? Did it work like that?

BEEN RESEARCHING YOU NEED TO FIND GUNTHER

Researching? Gunther? What was she on about?

HE MADE THE MIRROR HE IS THE SOURCE

How had Maya found this out?

ENTER THE MIRROR FIND HIM

The message ended there. But what was Maya talking about? How was she supposed to “find Gunther”? And “enter the mirror”? What did that mean? There was no swirling vortex before her, she couldn’t just… couldn’t just…

Lily sat down on the toilet lid, the ceramic cold against her skin, and stroked her chin in thought. She had spent so much time shifting between false memories, experiencing new forms of mortification, she’d barely thought about anything else. Everything in her dreams looked, sounded, felt, and even tasted real. But as she had discovered by entering this bathroom, the dreams were nothing like the real world at all. The space each one occupied depended on her memories, so her apartment bathroom connected directly to the venue Sphinx had rented for last year’s Christmas party. Perhaps that was not the only unexpected link.

Lily stood up and walked towards her sink, stretching a hand out before her. She reached for the mirror, expecting to feel smooth, cool glass, but her hand passed straight through it, as though it were empty air.

She stared in shock at the base of her wrist, which appeared to be embedded in the glass. But she still felt her hand, could still wriggle her fingers. This must be what Maya had meant. The mirror was a doorway; a doorway she needed to go through.

“If you say so, Maya,” Lily said to herself, pulling her hand back. She climbed up onto the sink, crouching awkwardly with her feet balanced precariously on its smooth porcelain sides, and moved both hands towards the mirror. They went through.

“Here goes nothing.” Lily shimmied forward, closed her eyes, and poked her head through. But the forward lean required to do this was too much for her precarious stance on the sink, and she squealed as she lost her balance and tumbled forward into the unknown.

Lily’s fall was soft, her front cushioned by a thick carpet. She looked up to see an old-fashioned, wood-paneled room filled with leather armchairs. There was a roaring fireplace at one end and a set of drawn red velvet curtains at the other. But much more noticeably, a man stood at one side of the room, staring at her like she was a ghost. “By Jove!” he exclaimed.

The man was dressed in an old-fashioned suit and had dark, curly hair and elaborately shaped facial hair of the sort Lily had only ever seen in history textbooks.

“Where am I?” Lily asked. She could feel the fire’s warmth against her bare buttocks. In her current cobra-like position, looking up at the strange man, her breasts hung free, and she moved an arm to obscure them from his eyes.

“I call it the Waiting Room,” said a sharp, female voice from somewhere behind Lily’s head.

Lily craned her neck to see a woman struggling to rise from one of the leather armchairs. She was dressed in a highly elaborate outfit reminiscent of French royalty, with a tight corset and a domed skirt clearly undergirded by strong whalebone. Her face was caked in white paint, broken up by two spots of red rouge on her cheeks, and she wore a white wig that almost reached the ceiling, adorned with feathers and pearls.

She eyed Lily’s bare skin disdainfully from beneath her heavy, dark lashes. When she spoke, it was with a slight French accent. “Have you no shame, woman? Where are your clothes?”

Lily’s blush deepened. To say she felt underdressed in the presence of these two characters would be the understatement of the century. “I… don’t have any,” she said meekly.

The man, blushing behind his ridiculous facial hair, began to pull off his jacket. “I’m sorry, madam. I see now that you are quite embarrassed by your state. Please do not take my staring as a sign of lecherousness. It is not every day a woman materializes in the middle of one’s drawing room. Although one does meet all sorts of strange people in this infernal place. Initially, I presumed that it was perhaps your custom to go about sans clothing. I try to keep an open mind about these things, you see.”

Lily let out a small squeak.

“I surmise from your body language and the violet flush upon your skin that this is not your customary mode of attire. Am I correct? Or do I presume too much and insult your beauty by averting my eyes?”

“No insult!” Lily snapped. “I don’t normally walk around naked. Or at least, I never used to. Not before… all this.”

“Then please, take this at once,” the man said, holding his jacket out to her.

Lily bit her lip. It took every ounce of will she had not to grab the man’s jacket and wrap it around herself. “Thank you, but I… have to stay like this. When I cover myself up… the dream resets.”

The woman clucked her tongue disapprovingly, but the man seemed to experience a flash of realization. “I take it, then, that nudity is your divergence? Your reflection appeared naked in the mirror, while you were clothed?”

“Yes!” Lily shouted, bouncing with excitement. “How did you know?”

Looking away from Lily, the man began to stroke his mustache thoughtfully. “That is how it began for us. A point of divergence between reality and the reflection.” He sighed deeply, tugging harder at his mustache. “I can still recall the first instance I spied these ridiculous whiskers. I have always been fastidiously clean-shaven, you see, not swayed by the modern fashion for affixing a wild animal to one’s jaw.”

“So you weren’t naked? I mean, in your reflection?”

“Quite the opposite—the natural beauty of my face was obscured by this infernal beard. It was quite bad enough seeing it in the mirror every day—little did I know I’d soon enough have to feel it tickle my chin as well.” He stroked the hair contemptuously. “I suppose I mustn’t pull it too hard, or I will find myself transported elsewhere, away from your delightful company.”

“So… if your beard is damaged… you go to another dream?”

The man nodded sadly. “I can’t tell you how many times I tried to shave it off when I first got here. But one grows tired of constantly losing one’s bearings. Eventually, even the sight of my chin was no longer worth the uncertainty of which unpleasant memory I would subsequently find myself reliving, made all the worse by my ridiculous appearance.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous appearance? Try being naked in all your memories!”

“My deepest sympathies,” the man said, looking down at his shoes. “I suppose there are worse things than fashionable whiskers.”

“Well, they’re not fashionable anymore.”

“Don’t make it worse.”

Lily’s forearms had begun to ache from holding herself up, and the fire was starting to wear out its welcome on the sensitive skin of her behind. “I’m going to get up now,” she said. “Please avert your eyes, Mister…”

“Lockwood. Algernon Lockwood, at your service, milady. And the lady who resembles a wedding cake is Mademoiselle Anne.”

The woman gasped at the insult.

“I’m Lily,” Lily said as she stood up, covering herself as best she could with her arms, and ignoring the dirty looks Anne gave her. She desperately wanted to tear one of the large velvet curtains from the wall and wrap it around herself, but the risk of entering another dream was too great. Instead, she sat down in one of the leather armchairs with her knees pulled up to her chin, her ankles crossed, and her arms hugging her thighs. That would have to do for modesty.

“Come now, mademoiselle,” Lockwood said, studiously avoiding the sight of Lily’s bare ankles. “The girl is as much a victim as we are. She has no more chosen her state of undress than you have chosen your makeup or I these infernal whiskers.”

“I suppose,” said Anne, after a long silence. Her posture relaxed to the degree permitted by her outfit, which wasn’t very much.

Lily smiled slightly, casting a sympathetic look at Anne. “So all that makeup was your, um, divergence?”

“That and everything else,” Anne said, gesturing around herself. “I was born into a humble peasant home and a plain face, but I played at courtly beauty. I dreamed of being noticed, plucked out of my humble life and taken as the bride of a noble gentleman at Versailles.”

“She’s been here since before the revolution, you see,” Lockwood added.

“Cease at once with those horrible stories, Monsieur Lockwood,” Anne snapped. “I do not insult your nation. But where was I… ah, yes, well, I played at makeup. My family all laughed at me, but I was convinced that careful application of the art would give me the beauty I required to elevate my station. The paints and ointments used at Versailles were difficult to come by, as were the wonderful fabrics used to make their clothes, so I had to get inventive. But the results were never satisfying to me… at least, not until I found the Mirror.”

Lily groaned. “Let me guess—it had a gold frame with weird symbols carved in it.”

Anne nodded gravely. “It is the same mirror that Monsieur Lockwood came upon later, the same that gave him his whiskers and… took away your clothes. I loved that reflection at first, how it showed me what I could be if only I had the resources. I gazed into it for hours at a time. I wanted nothing more than to resemble that reflection, to become the lady in the mirror. How foolish!”

“Be careful what you wish for,” said Lockwood. “That is how the mirror captured us all. It imposes a form that distresses us, that brings us shame. And when it is no longer content to taunt us with our reflections, it forces us to become our reflections.”

Lily nodded sadly, thinking of the scene in her bathroom, just after she’d fallen through the portal.

“I thought I wanted nothing more than this,” said Anne, gesturing to herself. “But now I am bound in iron, my every breath constricted and movement constrained. This paint burns my skin, and this wig is so heavy that there are times when I feel that the weight of it will surely break my neck. I have come to despise this prison of artificial beauty.” She looked sharply at Lily. “Perhaps, in some way, I envy your freedom. Any attempt to remove my makeup, to loosen this corset, or be rid of this wig… any such attempt transports me at once to a new dream.”

As sick as Lily was of the constant exposure, she found herself unsure whether she’d be willing to trade places with Anne. “How long have you been here?” she asked both of them.

Lockwood was silent for a moment before answering. “How long have you?”

“It’s been… um… huh.” Lily cast her mind’s eye across memories of repeated dreams, but found that she was unsure of the order they had happened in, and of how long each one had taken. She didn’t feel hungry or tired, but perhaps one didn’t in this strange place.

“Time is meaningless here,” Lockwood said. “The passage of the sun, the cycle of the seasons, the movement of the stars… all are contingent on the memories they appear in, if they appear at all. And I can find no pattern in that order. But for whatever it is worth, I arrived in this strange place in the Year of Our Lord, Eighteen Hundred and Eighty-Four.”

“And I in Seventeen Hundred and Eighty Seven,” added Anne.

Lily nodded. It seemed cruel to tell them what year it was for her. “Are there… others?”

Lockwood nodded. “I have encountered at least three victims besides those currently in this room. More rarely, one or both of them take the place of my real acquaintances.”

“How did you know they were victims?” Lily asked.

Lockwood stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “Most people you encounter in dream-memories are little more than spectres, automatons with a few canned lines and a handful of predictable actions. A real person is instantly recognizable. And, of course, each one has something… distinct… about his appearance.”

“I noticed because of their bizarre outfits,” said Anne, fanning herself. “Not to mention their questionable standards of hygiene.”

“The mirror has taken half a dozen victims in total, I would venture,” Lockwood said, having silently counted them out on his fingers. “Most of them poor lost souls just like us. But there is one who does not fit that description.”

“You speak of Gunther,” Anne said, her painted face distorting with revulsion.

“Gunther?” Lily asked. That was the name in Maya’s message.

“A medieval mystic from some or other Prussian kingdom,” Lockwood said. “He is the alchemist who built the infernal mirror, and he’s damned proud of it too. The last time I saw Gunther, I almost strangled him, but the wily bastard managed to cut off my mustache before I could finish the job.”

“My friend Maya, she’s been researching the mirror. She sent me a note by writing on the surface. She told me to enter the mirror from one of my dreams, and that’s how I ended up here. She also said that I needed to find someone called Gunther.”

“We too entered the mirror,” Lockwood said. “It was accidental, actually. She pushed me!”

“You deserved it!” Anne snapped. “I may hate this wig, but you did not need to compare it to a giant’s mop!”

“What is this place?” Lily asked.

“Mme. Anne calls it the Waiting Room,” Lockwood replied. “It resembles, in every physical detail, the drawing room in my cousin’s London apartments, the place where I first came into contact with the accursed mirror.”

Gears had begun to turn in Lily’s mind. She looked around the room, scanning the leather armchairs, the walls, the carpet, the fireplace, looking for a familiar golden frame. But no such thing was visible from her vantage point.

“What are you looking for?” Anne asked.

“The mirror,” Lily replied. “Where is it?”

Anne and Lockwood exchanged concerned glances.

“Oh, nowhere, it’s not here,” Lockwood said, his tone an octave higher than usual. His posture had completely stiffened, and his head made an almost imperceptible twitch in the direction of the heavy red curtain that all but covered the wall behind him. “No mirrors here, why would we want one?”

“We are safe here,” said Anne. “There are no mirrors, and as long as we do nothing to alter our divergences, we can stay here peacefully.”

“It’s a bit boring, but you get used to it,” said Lockwood. “I’m sure you’re only too happy to sit in that big comfortable armchair after traipsing all over your own mindscape in the buff, aren’t you, Lily?”

“Kind of, but I don’t want to stay here forever!”

“Why ever not? It is warm and safe,” said Anne. “I’ll smack Lockwood for you if I catch him staring.”

“I would never!”

“Oh, then what are you doing now, you old pervert?”

Taking the opportunity while her hosts were distracted, Lily steeled herself and leaped from the armchair. As soon as her feet hit the carpet, she dashed toward the red velvet curtain. Lockwood’s eyes went wide with shock. He reached out to stop her, but hesitated mid-motion, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of laying hands on a naked woman who was still very much a stranger.

“Stop!” he cried. “Don’t—”

But it was too late. Lily seized the curtain and yanked it aside, revealing the mirror from her bathroom. The frame was much shinier, and the symbols around the edges seemed a little different, but it was definitely the same mirror.

The last time she’d seen this mirror, its surface was entirely opaque, but now she could see a faint, moving outline of her body and hair. There was also another message from Maya.

KEEP GOING UNTIL YOU FIND GUNTHER

Would she be able to enter the mirror again? There was only one way to tell. She reached out a finger to touch it, and watched in amazement as her finger once again passed right through its surface.

“Oh that hideous thing!” Anne shrieked. “How dare you unveil it!”

From the rustle of petticoats, Lily could tell that Anne was making her way angrily towards her, though her clothing greatly restricted her ability to get anywhere quickly. Lockwood stood to one side, stammering and blushing, his eyes fixed on Lily’s body.

She didn’t know where the mirror would take her, but there was no further use in hanging around here. Before Anne could reach her, she plunged headfirst through the mirror’s cool surface.

* * *

The smell hit her first, and then the noise.

Lily stumbled across splintered floorboards, just barely managing to maintain her footing. She was standing in the center of a wooden pen in a crowded meeting house. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on her. The men wore drab grey coats, and the women in white bonnets. Their faces were twisted in varying shades of horror, fury, and guilty excitement.

“Behold!” a man’s voice thundered from a high pulpit. “The witch hath summoned a demon succubus to come to her aid!”

Lily looked around wildly. To her left, strapped to a wooden chair, was a woman dressed in saggy, shapeless sackcloth. Her hair was dishevelled and her eyes sunken in. But most noticeable was her skin, pale and wan, pulsating with glowing scarlet letters that crawled and warbled across her flesh like living tattoos, shifting and morphing and reshaping into different words. LUST. GREED. VANITY. PRIDE.

The woman’s eyes were wide with terror. She opened her mouth to speak, to plead for her life from the judge. But instead of words, a wet, black toad tumbled from her lips, plapping on the floorboards and immediately hopping away.

The crowd screamed, and there was a chorus of stomps as they tried to eradicate the black toad.

“See how the witch unleashes the powers of Satan to save her worthless hide!” the Judge bellowed. He pointed a trembling finger at Lily. “Seize the succubus! To the stake with both of them!”

Two burly men with wooden staves jumped the rail of the pen.

Lily’s eyes widened in fright, but adrenaline took over, and she managed to dodge the first man, ducking under his grasping arm. She spun around and ran for the railing, breasts bouncing, splinters tearing at her bare feet, the second man in hot pursuit.

Lily grabbed the railing and leaped over it, in a feat of pure nervous energy. She ran forward headlong, right towards… the judge.

He was holding a large, polished silver cross, waving it in front of him like a weapon to ward her off. “Back, demon!” he shouted.

“Sorry, your Honor!” Lily yelled. As she got closer, she realized that the cross was edged with golden trim and that she could see the faint reflection of a naked woman in its highly polished surface. A reflection, and a message.

KEEP GOING LILY I BELIEVE IN YOU

The judge swung the cross at her, and she gasped as the cold metal surface made contact with the side of her head. But instead of hurting her, it seemed to pass right through her.

“Away demon!” bellowed the judge.

The courtroom disappeared.

* * *

SPLASH!

The next thing Lily was aware of was freezing cold water, covering her from head to toe, and the sensation of falling. The taste of sea salt struck terror in her heart—she had fallen into the ocean!

But her flailing limbs struck hard surfaces—wood and metal. Her fingers struggled for purchase, then closed around a hard, metallic ball attached to a wooden surface—a doorknob!

She held fast, and suddenly was no longer falling. Then her head was above water, and she was sucking in desperate breaths. Her feet, still submerged, found purchase on a wooden surface, but it was angled, and she had to keep a tight hold on the doorknob to keep from sliding down. With her other hand, she groped for the doorframe and eventually found it.

Brushing the damp locks of hair from her eyes, she looked around, squinting in the gloom. As far as she could tell, she was aboard an old wooden sailing ship, inside one of the below-deck cabins. More precisely, a sinking ship.

The whole room was tilted at forty-five degrees, and seawater poured in through broken windows. Swollen, ruined furniture bobbed in the water below her. And there was something else—something in the shape of a man, golden and gleaming.

“My gold!” boomed a deep voice.

Lily blinked saltwater from her eyes. Bobbing among the ruined furniture, holding tight to a chain suspended from the ceiling, was a golden statue of a large man, clothed in the tattered remains of a Spanish conquistador’s uniform. A screaming statue.

In his other hand, the living statue was clinging to an enormous treasure chest. Though his skin was inhuman, his movements were quite natural, and he did not appear to possess strength in excess of a mortal man’s, for he was clearly fighting a losing battle to keep hold of the chest.

“Help me!” he roared, his eyes catching Lily’s. “My treasure is sinking! Everything I’ve worked for is slipping through my fingers!”

“Everything is!” Lily shouted over the roar of the storm. She ducked as a silver candlestick flew past her head and collided with the wall.

At that moment, another glint caught Lily’s eye. A small hand mirror with a familiar golden frame had surfaced near the golden man. At the sight of his face, he began to cackle with delight. The handle of the treasure chest finally slipped from his fingers, but he paid it no mind, so enchanted was he with his own reflection. “So beautiful!” he cooed.

The water was rising fast, swirling around Lily’s waist. It wouldn’t be long before the cabin was wholly submerged. What would happen if Lily drowned in this dream-memory? She had never been in such an immediately life-threatening one before. Perhaps she would just wake up in another dream-memory. Or perhaps…

It wasn’t worth taking the chance, not when the way out was right there. Taking a deep breath, Lily released first the door handle, and then the doorframe, allowing herself to fall into the cold water once more. The swirling current pulled her towards the man and the mirror.

The man was holding the mirror now, still staring at his reflection. Lily steadied herself against his side, gripping a handful of his coat. He took no notice of her. Under normal circumstances, this would be great, but she needed him to give her the mirror.

“Magnificent,” he muttered to himself. “Perhaps… perhaps I was the treasure all along…”

“Yeah, great,” Lily replied, grabbing his wrist with both hands. It was cold and hard as rock. She tried to twist the mirror toward her, but he was immovable.

The ship lurched violently as a massive wave crashed through the window.

Lily lost her hold on the coat and was swept up by the water, tumbling toward the back of the room. She flailed her limbs wildly, managing to hook her right foot on something solid. Lily pulled herself backwards, hooking her left foot and twisting and shimmying until her legs were firmly wrapped around the object.

Then she looked up.

The golden man was no longer looking at the mirror, for Lily had managed to wrap her legs tightly around his neck, and he was now looking directly between them, even more dazed and distracted than before. “Beautiful.”

Before Lily could fully process the lethal embarrassment of this position, she saw the mirror slip from his golden fingers and caught a glimpse of her thoroughly reddened face.

With a sigh of relief, she pulled her legs apart and kicked away from the golden man, though not before he gave a mortifying shout of excitement.

Plunging back into the cold water, Lily’s fingers brushed the cool surface of the hand mirror, and she felt it pull her in. Right before the world disappeared, she took in Maya’s latest message.

FOUND A WAY IN BUT I NEED YOUR GUIDANCE

Lily hardly felt qualified to give anyone guidance.

* * *

The rough stone was damp and slimy against the soft skin of Lily’s breasts and stomach. She lay there for a moment, breathing deeply. The seawater that had filled her mouth and nostrils moments ago was gone, replaced by a dank, fetid air, but air nonetheless.

She rose to her feet slowly, hugging herself. She was in a long, dark corridor, illuminated by rows of crude burning torches set into metal rings.

Heavy footsteps sounded from the murky darkness before her, and a knight stepped into the torchlight. He walked slowly and stiffly, his black iron suit clanking with every step. Long, rusted spikes protruded from the shoulders and knees. He dragged a sword behind him that was almost as big as Lily.

As he came closer, Lily saw with horror that his helmet’s visor was welded shut. From within the armor, there came a pathetic sob. “Please,” a muffled voice wept from behind the welded visor. “Spare me! Deliver me!”

“S-sir?” Lily whispered, stepping back, hugging herself tighter still.

The knight’s neck shifted so that the pointed edge of his visor met Lily’s eyes. “You are no angel, but a demon! A succubus sent to tempt me!”

Steel dragged against stone as the knight lifted the massive sword. He swung blindly, bringing the full force of the blade crashing into the stone wall with a mighty clang.

“Whoa!” Lily scrambled backward, her bare feet slipping on the damp moss, forcing her into a crouch to maintain balance.

“The fallen desires of man made manifest!” the knight wailed, swinging again, and managing only to strike the other wall. “Begone, demon, flaunt your foul flesh for another tortured soul!”

“Okay, that’s just rude,” Lily said. The knight was frightening in appearance, but appeared incapable of harming her. He could barely hold the weight of his sword, and his movements were slow and labored. “I’m not a demon! I’m… I’m a damsel in distress! A poor, lost lady, cruelly robbed of her clothes! Knights like you are supposed to help damsels in distress, not try to decapitate them!”

The knight’s sword clattered to the stone floor, and for a moment, he stood motionless, staring at her. Then he collapsed, weeping loudly, first to his metal knees, and then to his iron torso. “When will torments cease!” he screamed.

Though his armor was pitch black and his great sword dull and rusted, he wore a gleaming shield upon his back. A polished silver shield with a familiar golden frame.

Making as little sound as possible, Lily tiptoed towards the collapsed knight, keeping a wary eye on his discarded sword. He didn’t seem to notice her in his anguished wailing.

Lily’s face stared back at her from the shield’s polished surface. Her hair was a mess, and her skin was filthy. The latest message from Maya read as follows:

WHEN YOU REACH GUNTHER SEND ME A SIGN

Lily had no idea how Maya expected her to do that. But she did know how to get out of here. As she leaned towards the mirror’s surface, she hoped that the next dream-memory would be somewhere cleaner.

* * *

A wave of warm air passed over Lily, and she opened her eyes to find herself sitting cross-legged in the middle of a massive table covered by a soft purple tablecloth and groaning under the weight of mountains of food. On all sides she was surrounded by giant plates piled high with food—roasted boars, legs of lamb, fruits of all descriptions, bread in every possible shape, and the combined confectionery delights of ten bakeries.

The table and its bounty extended in every direction but one. At the head of the table sat an enormous woman. Her gut spilled onto the surface of the table, and she had more chins than Lily could count. She wore a coarse brown peasant’s dress, the fabric of which would easily make ten outfits for Lily.

She appeared to have paused from ravenous eating, a drumstick in one hand and a slice of cake in the other, to look at the naked woman sitting on her table with her large, damp eyes.

“I surmise you’re here to taunt me,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Lily. “A vision of how I might look if I could ever stop eating, all slim and dainty. Well, I don’t care. The devil knows as well as I do that I was full centuries ago, that it is his hand that forces mine to keep eating.” She took a bite of her drumstick, and spat out flecks of skin with her next words. “Itsh out of my control. Sho take thosh pert boshoms and begone!”

Lily blushed and covered her breasts. The sights and smells of all this food were making her hungry—something she hadn’t felt since entering the mirror world. A loud growl escaped her stomach.

“Methinks the wench is peckish!” the woman roared. “Have a bite, there’sh plenty to go around!”

The food around her smelled delicious, and Lily was growing hungrier by the moment. But she had a feeling that if she started eating, she would not be able to stop. She needed to find the mirror, even as her stomach growled in protest.

She scanned her surroundings for a reflective surface, and found one that made her heart sink. Near the edge of the table, next to the fat woman’s elbow, sat a golden chalice etched with familiar runes. It was filled to the brim with dark, still red wine—a flat, reflective surface.

“You can do this,” Lily muttered to herself. “Just… don’t touch the food.”

The fat woman seemed to have lost interest in her for the moment, having returned all of her attention to her food. Lily stood up and began walking towards the chalice, stepping carefully over a roasted swan. Her foot slipped on a loose grape, and she flailed, nearly face-planting into a bowl of thick porridge, but catching herself at the last second, her heart hammering against her ribs.

“Oi, issat a shaved cunt?” the woman asked, glancing at Lily momentarily. “A whore, aren’t you?”

Lily placed a hand firmly between her legs and continued towards the chalice. The fat woman snorted with derisive laughter.

There was something strange happening with the perspective in this place—in the middle of the table, everything was large, but not outside of normal proportions. The woman, while enormously fat, had also appeared to be not dissimilar in height to Lily. But as she had ventured closer to the edge of the table, everything had grown much bigger. Or perhaps she had shrunk.

The food was highest and densest near the fat woman’s seat. Lily slipped carefully between a mountain of syrupy pancakes and a hill of crispy bacon, her lips pursed tight. She felt something wet drop against her shoulder, and almost screamed before realizing it was just a dollop of syrup.

The chalice was now in spitting distance. This close, it was taller than Lily, and she realized she would have to climb it to reach the reflective surface of the wine. She darted towards it and reached her hands up to clasp its surface, having to stand on tiptoes.

Just then, a hand shot out from the pile of food. The woman’s hand. Before Lily could react, enormous fingers wrapped around the chalice’s narrow stem, and the wine glass lifted from the table—with Lily still clinging onto the brim.

The chalice lifted into the air. Lily tightened her grip, lest she fall to the ground far below. This close, one of the woman’s fingers was the size of her leg, and the woman’s face was an enormous expanse.

“Wot’s this?” the woman’s voice boomed, her mouth opening like an immense, dark portal. “There’s a woman on me glass!” She shrugged. “I’ll eat ye too!”

Lily suppressed a scream as the woman brought the chalice towards her face, her mouth widening. The chalice tipped, loosening Lily’s grip. She looked up at the dark liquid and saw her own terrified reflection.

Then, with a sudden burst of adrenaline, Lily pulled herself up, first onto one elbow, then the other, dipping both entire arms into the wine-dark surface. If there was a message from Maya here, it was blotted out by the color of the wine. The chalice tipped further, threatening to let her fall, but then her head was submerged in wine, and she felt a familiar cool, weightless feeling as the mirror took her away.

* * *

Then she was dry, and the smell of wine and food and the fat woman’s sweat was gone.

She now stood in the center of a circular stone room, the cool, dry air against her skin and the smell of ozone and sulfur in her nostrils. The walls of the room were lined with books, and every available surface held a colorful array of bubbling beakers, glowing stones, and strange powders.

In the center of the room stood a crooked old man stirring a cauldron. His back was turned to Lily, and he wore a purple robe and a ridiculous pointed hat.

Lily drew in a sharp breath and covered herself with her hands. Despite plenty of practice, she still couldn’t get used to appearing in strange places with no clothes on.

The man stopped stirring but didn’t turn around.

“Ah, Fraulein Lily, you have arrived at last,” he croaked, in a harsh, dry voice with a pronounced German accent. “I did not expect you to make it this far.”

“A-are you Gunther?” Lily stammered. “How did you know my name?”

“It is my business to know of those who beseech me, those who come on hands and knees, begging to be taken under my wing,” he said, spinning around dramatically. He had one large green eye and one small eye that was milky white, without iris or pupil, and a long, scraggly beard, which he stroked thoughtfully as the larger eye took in Lily’s form. “I believe you have already met some of the others.”

Lily’s face reddened, even more with rage than embarrassment. “I’m not beseeching you for any such thing! My reflection trapped me here against my will! I want outta here!”

Gunther tutted. “Are you sure? Few have reached me, but those who desire power over the Realm of Dreams. Here you can live a thousand lifetimes, the means to satisfy every need and desire at your fingertips, a constant variety of experience unfolded before you! Here you are free from hunger, sickness, and age!”

Lily bit her lip. “My only desire right now is to put on some clothes!”

Gunther shrugged. “Ah, well, except that one. The Realm of Dreams demands a small sacrifice from all of us, that we may live forever.” He pointed to his useless, milky white eye. “A small price to pay, I’m sure you will agree.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Lily screamed, pressing her arms further into her soft flesh. “You’re not forced to go around in your birthday suit! Every moment here has been a humiliating nightmare!”

“Such ingratitude,” Gunther replied, shaking his head. “Here, your youthful beauty will be preserved for all time, and all that is required is that you share it with others.”

Lily stuck out her tongue.

“It is a mystery to me, why one such as yourself must persist in a desire to return to the squalid world you have escaped,” he said, cocking an eyebrow. “Look at you. No pox, no scars, just the healthy glow of youth. You are Eve before the Fall—feminine perfection! The world out will ruin you! Your skin will wrinkle and your breasts will sag. Ultimately, you will become food for worms!”

Lily’s expression hardened. “At least I’d have my dignity.”

“You are a selfish girl, Frauline Lily.” He gestured dramatically at her body. “You would destroy this, all because you do not wish to share it!”

Lily opened her mouth to snap back at Gunther, but then another idea occurred to her. “Yes, I guess you’re right. I’m really selfish! Such a bad quality that is. I’m sure you don’t want selfish people messing up your Dream Realm. You should send me back to the real world!”

Gunther chuckled darkly. “Ah, but that would be to betray my promise to your counterpart.”

“Lila.”

“Yes, I think she might have called herself that. Anyway, this Lila made enormous sacrifices to traverse the barrier between worlds, with my assistance. I do not understand why she cared to do so, but those born in this realm, the reflections, they are a strange lot with unfathomable desires. I have given up the attempt to understand what they see in our fallen world that makes them so eager to journey there.”

Lily could barely contain her anger. “You—you helped her replace me?!”

Gunther smiled broadly. “It is the least I can do for such generous hosts.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Lily spat. “Not just for me, but for everyone else in this place. Lockwood, Anne, the ship captain, the fat woman…”

“Yes, I help anyone who asks it of me. It is marvellous fun, figuring out the optimal divergence for each individual. Frauline Lila was quite abashed about yours, at first, just as you are now. But then, I suppose you are quite similar to each other…”

“Don’t you feel guilty? Trapping people here against their will?”

“Not at all—a life inside the Dream Realm is a wondrous gift. I would not otherwise have spent my entire adult life seeking it.”

“I don’t think the knight in the black armor feels that way. Or the golden ship captain. Or the woman accused of witchcraft,” said Lily. “Or anyone except you!”

Gunther narrowed his large eye. “I cannot take the blame for the foolishness of others. If they cannot bring themselves to appreciate the gift I have bestowed on them, that is their failing.”

“How can you say that?! How can you—”

Gunther raised a hand for silence. “Let us speak no more of them. Truly, they are beneath our dignity.”

“Our dignity?” Lily asked, emphasising the first word.

“You are not like the others, Fraulein. You have broken free of your own mindscape and traversed the Realm to find me. Like me, you desire power, and you have the will to achieve it. You would make a marvellous apprentice.”

Lily contemplated the thought of becoming Gunther’s assistant—his naked slave, rather. Stirring his potions and cleaning his laboratory, all while suffering under the constant attention of those creepy eyes roving across her uncovered flesh. The vision was revolting.

Her shoulders slumped, and she felt the hope ebb from her body. Maya had told her to find Gunther—well, now she had found him, and she was no closer to escaping than before. Maya had said to send her a signal, but she had no idea how. Was Maya somewhere in the Dream Realm, or still back in the real world?

As much as she hated the idea of accepting Gunther’s offer, there might be a benefit to pretending, at least until she could figure out how to signal Maya. Taking a few deep breaths through her nose, Lily calmed herself, put on her most normal, friendly expression, and tried to relax her posture as much as she could while still keeping herself covered. With slow, uncertain steps, she approached Gunther, who had gone back to stirring his cauldron.

“Maybe I was too hasty before,” she said, catching his good eye. “I came all this way, so I might as well try out for this apprenticeship. It can’t go any worse than my last job!” She gave a performative chuckle.

“That’s the spirit, Fraulein!” Gunther replied, breaking into an enormous smile. “Now help me stir this mixture, my arms are tired.” Gunther held the spoon in front of her, and she moved closer to the cauldron before taking it from him with the hand that had been between her legs.

“I will have to see you sooner or later, my dear,” he said, leaning back and taking a pointed look at her butt. “But your shyness is quite endearing.”

Lily bit her lip and ignored him. She began to stir the mixture, which was a thick green sludge. But as she stirred, the sludge became thinner and clearer, until she began to see her own reflection looking up at her. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but her reflection appeared to have white fabric over her shoulders.

White fabric? Could that mean she was looking at Lila? While still having full control of her body? There was only one way to find out. Cautiously excited now, Lily released her breasts and started to stir vigorously with both arms.

“That’s the way!” Gunther cried. “You’ll make a fine apprentice yet, Fraulein Lily!”

The reflection became clearer as Lily stirred. It showed Lila’s white-clad shoulders, and Lily’s apartment bathroom behind her. Lila seemed to be shouting, arguing with someone—Maya! Maya was there, shoving Lila. With every stir, the reflection was becoming clearer, more real. If Lily just turned the spoon a few more times, maybe she could—

“Aha!” cried a voice from behind her. Lily felt a heavy breath against her neck and a pair of rough hands seize her buttocks. Gunther.

“Eep!” she screeched, releasing the spoon.

The spoon caught in the swirling current and fell out of sight. Almost instantly, the mixture settled and returned to an opaque green sludge, the window into Lily’s bathroom vanishing entirely.

“No!” Lily cried, plunging her hands into the hot, thick slime to try and retrieve it. But it was gone, swallowed by the alchemical mixture. She pulled her dripping, green-stained hands back, staring in horror at the opaque surface. Whatever connection she had briefly had with the real world was now lost. And it was her own stupid fault.

“I am sorry for startling you,” said Gunther, who had released her bottom and was now standing innocently to one side. “But an apprentice must be ready for anything.” He glanced into the pot and tutted. “A pity. That was my favorite stirring spoon. Rowan wood, very conductive.”

Lily backed away from the cauldron, wiping the slime from her hands onto her thighs. Would she really be trapped here with this lecherous wizard forever?

Gunther stepped closer, his large green eye roved hungrily over her body. “Do not worry, Fraulein. We shall have an eternity to carve new spoons. And another eternity for… other lessons…”

He reached out a withered hand to stroke her arm. Lily recoiled, backing up until she almost tripped over a workbench laden with glass vials.

“Stay away from me!” she warned, her voice trembling.

“Come now, do not be difficult,” Gunther purred, closing the distance. “You came to me, remember? You asked for this.”

Lily grabbed a heavy glass beaker from the workbench behind her, brandishing it like a weapon. “Back off, you creep!”

Gunther chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. “That is no way to address your master, my dear.”

Just as he lunged for her, a low, ominous rumble emanated from the cauldron.

Gunther froze and looked over his shoulder. “Was ist das?”

The green sludge began to bubble violently, causing the heavy iron cauldron to shake and rattle against the stone floor. Steam hissed angrily from the surface.

But then, as suddenly as it had started, the motion stopped. The cauldron settled, and the steam dissipated.

“Fascinating,” said Gunther, returning to the cauldron and peering inside. “I have never known a wooden spoon to provoke such a reaction.”

Replacing the glass beaker on the workbench, Lily took a tentative step forward, her hand ready to slap some propriety into Gunther. But her progress was suddenly interrupted by a large, blunt object colliding with her back. It took the wind out of her, forcing her to stumble forward. Eye wide, Gunther side-stepped just in time to avoid a collision, and Lily slammed into the side of the cauldron, tipping it over.

“Clumsy fool!” Gunther shouted, dashing to right the cauldron as a thick, green sludge spread outwards.

“Ow,” was all Lily could muster, rubbing a new bump on her forehead.

Once her vision stopped swimming, she turned to see what had hit her in the back and gasped at the sight of her own face. Lila, clad in a simple white dress, was scrambling to her feet, her face contorted with rage. She ran towards Lily, but was prevented from reaching her by a golden rope tied around her ankle.

“Frauline Lila?” Gunther asked, having righted the cauldron and saved most of its contents. “You are back so soon? Did you not enjoy the other world?”

“She was enjoying it a little too much,” came a familiar voice from behind Lila. A woman with a brown bob and a pair of round-lensed glasses stepped into view. Aside from the glasses, she was entirely naked, her ankle wrapped in the same golden rope that held Lila.

“Maya!” Lily cried. “But how?”

“I got your signal,” Maya said, holding up the wooden spoon that had fallen into the cauldron and tossing it to one side. “It was enough to pinpoint your location in the Dream Realm.”

Lily rushed forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. “That doesn’t even come close to being a satisfactory answer, but I sure am glad to see you!”

“There was also a lot of research,” Maya said, patting Lily on the back, both feeling slightly awkward about their naked embrace. “It helps that I have some weird friends.”

Lily glanced down as they released their embrace. “But… why are you naked?”

“It seemed like the simplest way to create a divergence between me and Mia and reopen the portal,” Maya said, blushing slightly. “I didn’t really want to lose an eye, and I can’t grow a beard!”

“Intruder!” Gunther screeched, pointing a bony finger at Maya. “You dare enter my realm without invitation?”

“I invited myself,” Maya said, adjusting her glasses. She held up the golden rope tied around Lila’s ankle. “But don’t worry, I’m not staying for very long. Just here to pick up a friend.”

“You ruined it!” Lila moaned. “I was having fun! I was going to be a star!”

“You were going to be a felon,” Maya corrected. She looked at Lily, grinning despite the bizarre situation. “Okay, here’s the plan. My reflection—Mia is the name we agreed on—is on the other end of this rope, in your bathroom. When I give the signal, she’ll pull us back.”

“Mia?” Lily asked, bewildered. “Your reflection is… helping us?”

Maya shrugged. “She seems pretty well-adjusted.”

Gunther was vibrating with rage. “A neophyte! You have no idea of the forces you’re toying with!”

Maya ignored Gunther. A small knife had appeared in her hand—where she had been hiding that, Lily didn’t want to know—and with a single fluid movement, she slashed the end of the rope, releasing Lila. Looking at Lily, she pointed at Lila’s unguarded back.

“Hey, Gunther,” Maya said. “Catch!” And both of them shoved Lila forward with all of their strength.

“Ah!” Lila screamed, losing her footing and barreling into the cauldron. It immediately tipped over, knocking Gunther on his back and spilling green sludge everywhere.

Lila shrieked, attempting to scramble to her feet but slipping in the thick green sludge from the cauldron. “No! I belong out there!”

“You belong in therapy!” Maya retorted. She grabbed Lily’s arm with one hand and handed her the end of the golden rope. “Hold on tight!”

Maya gave the rope three hard yanks. “The signal,” she explained.

The signal was received, and the rope began to move backwards. The last thing Lily saw before the world disappeared was Lila’s enraged face, cheeks streaked with angry tears.

They were flying backward, reeled in like fish on a line.

They shot out of the wine chalice, scattering red droplets on the giant’s dress. She didn’t even notice them between bites.

They zipped through the dungeon, the knight’s sword missing them by a mile.

They burst through the surface of the ocean, water spraying as they flew past the sinking golden captain.

They shot through the ceiling of the courtroom, and past the leather armchairs of the waiting room and the shocked faces of Lockwood and Mme Anne.

And finally, they passed through the swirling blue vortex in the mirror’s surface.

Lily landed hard on cold tile. Maya landed next to her, groaning and rubbing her hip.

They were in Lily’s bathroom. Not a mirror reflection of Lily’s bathroom, but the real thing. In the real world, where left was left, and right was right. The subtle wrongness of the dream world was gone, and Lily had never been so happy to feel completely normal.

Standing by the sink, holding the other end of the golden rope, was… Maya, dressed in shorts and a tank top, and looking slightly bored. She glanced at the naked Maya on the floor, then at Lily.

“Mission accomplished, then?” the clothed Maya said, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah,” the naked Maya groaned, standing up and pulling at the rope around her leg. “Thanks, Mia. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Let’s not do this again,” Mia said, pulling off her tank top and shorts, so that the two of them were indistinguishable. “That’s better,” Mia said. “Swapping divergence gives me a splitting headache.”

“That’s what pacified Lila,” Maya said to Lily. “She had to be naked to come into our world, so when you got naked, she had to magic up some clothes to maintain the divergence. It really sapped her energy.”

Lily looked at the two Mayas. “But you’re not diverged now?”

“That’s kind of—” Mia began.

“—the idea,” Maya finished. For now there was only one of them.

The swirling blue vortex had disappeared and the mirror now showed the reflection of the bathroom and its two tired, sweaty, naked occupants, standing amidst a mess of towels and discarded clothing.

Maya waved at her reflection, and it waved back, perfectly in sync.

Lily looked at hers. It stared back at her, eyes wide, chest heaving. It touched its face when she did, and smiled wearily.

“So you’re telling me that we just had to strip Lila, and she would have disappeared, just like Mia did now?” asked Lily. “Instead of… all that?”

Maya shrugged. “By the time I figured that out, you were already in the mirror world. Sorry.”

Lily sighed deeply. “Whatever. I guess it’s over now,” she whispered, keeping her voice low lest she jinx something.

Maya bent down and picked up a towel, tossing it to Lily. “Yeah. It’s over. But there’s one more thing we need to do. Get dressed.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!”

* * *

The sun was setting over the salvage yard, casting long shadows across the piles of rusted metal and crushed cars. The air smelled of oil and hot steel.

Lily stood by the chain-link fence, watching a massive yellow crane swing a heavy metal claw. There was a mound of debris in the claw’s grip, but Lily’s eyes were focused on the centerpiece—a large rectangular object wrapped in layers of duct tape and heavy canvas.

“You think this will work?” Lily asked, pulling her hoodie tighter around herself. It felt amazing to wear clothes again.

“I don’t know the alchemical term for what we’re doing here,” Maya said, leaning against her car, dressed in the shorts and top Mia had been wearing. “But I think this’ll crush it into small enough pieces that no one will ever see a reflection in that mirror again.”

“I’m surprised,” Lily said. “I thought you knew all about this stuff.”

“Eh, I’m just a quick study,” Maya said.

“So you were able to communicate with your reflection and create a divergence, which reopened the portal, allowing Mia to come into the real world,” said Lily. “How did you get her to cooperate with you?”

Maya shrugged. “Luck, mostly. I don’t think everyone in the mirror world wants to escape, like your reflection did. Mia said she thought it would be cool to visit for a bit, but that she really didn’t want my life. I’m… not really sure how to feel about that.”

“And the golden rope?”

“Apparently everyone there has one,” Maya said. “It’s useful for anchoring yourself in the sea of memory, she said.”

“Huh,” Lily said. “That does sound useful.” She glanced back at the crane, which had stopped in place. Squinting, Lily could just about see the operator give him a thumbs-up. “He’s gonna do it!” she squealed.

“Thanks, Jerry!” Maya shouted.

The claw dropped its load of junk into the maw of the car crusher, and the hydraulic press roared to life. Lily held her breath.

CRUNCH.

The metal plates came together with a satisfying finality. Glass shattered, wood splintered, and metal groaned and twisted.

When the press opened again, all that was left was a flat, unrecognizable pancake of debris.

“Goodbye, Lila,” Lily whispered.

“Come on,” Maya said, opening the car door. “Let’s get dinner. And then you need a new mirror—a cheap one from IKEA.”

Lily laughed. “Sounds great!” She pulled on her seatbelt as Maya started the engine.

“What day did you say it was?” Lily asked once they were on the highway.

“Wednesday,” said Maya. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to rescue you. There was… a lot to figure out. And it wasn’t easy to get Lila to let me back into your apartment.”

“Wednesday,” Lily repeated. “That means the meeting with Lauren already happened. Guess I’ll have to look for a new job.”

Maya laughed. “On the contrary, you got a promotion! Whatever Lila said to the bosses really made an impression.”

“Really?” Lily asked. “Still, I don’t know if I could show my face in that office again… not after, well, all of that.”

“You’d be passing up an amazing opportunity if you didn’t,” said Maya. “And besides, Tom and Derek were already fired for sexual harassment and creating revenge porn.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess,” Lily said. She didn’t want to get her hopes up too high—Lila had had half a week to wreak havoc on her life, and she had a nasty feeling that it would take a while to find out exactly how much damage she had done. She turned her head to look out the window, catching her reflection in the side-mirror. “Thanks, Lila,” she said sarcastically.

Her reflection winked.

The End(?)