The Glass Word by Kai Meyer

“yes, of course. Where is she now? Can you see her?”
    â€œNo. She doesn’t have a wonderful mirror like the one in which you’re holding me prisoner.”
    â€œHolding you prisoner? You jumped into it yourself!”
    â€œBecause otherwise the same thing would have happened to me as the others.”
    â€œDid you know them?”
    â€œThey were all from my world. But I only knew my uncle. He didn’t want me to come with him, but then I sneaked into his workroom at night and jumped into the mirror after him. He looked really dumb when he noticed it.” The phantom giggled. “Oh, well, and then
I
looked dumb when I realized what had happened to us.”
    â€œJawing,”
the Queen said,
“nothing but jawing.”
    â€œLet’s talk about my mother again, all right?”
    â€œSure,” said the phantom. “Whatever you want.”
    â€œWhere is she now?”
    â€œThe last time I saw her she was sitting on a dead witch in the middle of the sea.” He said it as matter-of-factly as if he’d seen her cooking.
    â€œIn the sea?” Merle asked. “Are you sure?”
    â€œI
know
how the sea looks,” he replied spitefully.
    â€œYes … yes, sure. But, I mean, what was she doing there?”
    â€œHolding one hand in the water and creating a magic mirror out of it. So she could hold your hand. Remember?”
    Merle was terribly confused. “So can you only see her when she holds one hand in the water?”
    â€œJust like you.”
    â€œAnd you hear her too?”
    â€œBoth of you.”
    â€œBut then why can’t I hear her?”
    â€œWe could change places anytime,” he retorted snippily.
    Merle thought for a while. “You must tell me what she says. Does she know how to speak with you?”
    â€œShe very quickly tumbled to the fact that there’s someone in the mirror besides her little daughter. And she was polite enough to ask me my name first.”
    â€œOh … what’s your name, then?”
    â€œI’ve forgotten.”
    â€œBut how—”
    â€œI said that she asked, not that I could give her an answer.”
    â€œHow can anyone forget his name?”
    â€œHow can anyone suddenly become a dust mark on a mirror? No idea. The only thing I can remember are the last few seconds in my uncle’s room. Everything before that is gone. But I have the feeling that it’s graduallycoming back. Sometimes I remember details, faces, even tunes. Perhaps if you carry me around for a few more years in your musty pocket, then—”
    This time it was she who interrupted him. “Listen. I’m sorry about what happened to you, but I can’t do anything about it. No one forced you to run after your uncle. So—do you intend to help me or not?”
    â€œYes, yes, yes,” he said, drawling.
    â€œIf you can talk with”—Merle hesitated—“my mother, then you can pass on to her what I say. And the other way around.”
    â€œA sort of translation, you mean?”
    â€œExactly.” Now he’s got it, she thought, and even the Queen sighed somewhere deep in her thoughts.
    â€œGuess I could probably do that.”
    â€œThat would be very nice.”
    â€œThen will you take me out of your pocket sometimes?”
    â€œIf we ever get away from here in one piece, we might find a way to get you out of this mirror.”
    â€œDo not be too generous with promises you may not be able to keep,”
said the Queen.
    â€œThat won’t happen.” The phantom sounded a little sad. “I can’t take on a body in your world. Everyone said that.”
    â€œMaybe not a body. But a larger mirror. How about the sea?”
    â€œThen I’d be something like a sailor, wouldn’t I?”
    â€œI suppose.”
    â€œHmm … I guess that would be all right.” And then he began to sing a song, quite tunelessly, something about fifteen