GOD
Robin gasped and pulled her hands away from the planchette. She felt rather than saw Cain move forward behind her; then his hands were gripping her shoulders. Lisa was hugging herself from the edge of the shadows.
Martin pressed his fingers into the wood, white-faced and shouting. “I’m asking you . Tell me what you are!”
Everyone was still. The indicator slowly circled under Martin’s hands.
Robin watched, paralyzed, squeezing her hands together on her thighs, subliminally aware of Cain’s hands on her shoulders. She suddenly thought, with clarity for the first time, Lisa wasn’t moving it. It wasn’t ever any of us. Then, oh God…what is it?
The letters appeared inexorably under the cut circle of the pointer.
TELL ?
OR
Robin could feel the others craning forward, waiting, mesmerized, as the pointer’s circles diminished to barely a hover. Then a sudden burst of letters.
SHOW ?
Robin stared at the board in disbelief, the letters, the word echoing in her mind. No one was speaking the words aloud now; they were all just staring down in numb silence. She had just enough time to wonder, Show us what? How —
Martin commanded, “Show us.”
Cain spoke instantly: “No—”
The planchette scraped violently across the letters.
YOU WANT TO KNOW ME TAKE ME IN OPEN WIDE
In the hearth, the fireplace logs cracked open, showering sparks upward. All five of them spun toward the fire, freaked.
Robin caught movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced up at the mirror above the fireplace.
In the dark glass she saw a pale shape rushing forward, as if coming from a long distance, a tunnel. There was no time to scream, no time to react. All she had was a glimpse and then—
The mirror shattered.
Lisa and Robin screamed. All five of them jumped back as ugly glass spears shot from the mantel, exploding outward, shining briefly in the air, and then crashing on the floor.
No one moved. All five stood frozen, stunned, suspended in shock.
Patrick gasped out weakly, “Motherfucking shit.”
Robin’s heart was pounding in her chest. She could hear Martin breathing shallowly beside her, blinking behind his glasses. The room was utterly silent, the shadows long on the wall. Glass shards like knives littered the carpet, glittering in the firelight.
Cain was the first to move. He forced himself forward to the fireplace, stepping carefully around the razor-sharp glass. He reached out (Robin almost called out “ Don’t! “ but could not make herself speak) and put his hand flat against the pale circle of wall where the mirror had been.
“It’s hot,” he said. His voice was far away, as if he were in a trance. “Fire must have…heated the mirror and it broke.”
Lisa toned on him, nearly shrieking. “What planet are you on? It just happened to shatter ? At that precise moment? Gosh and gollee yes—happens every day.”
Martin spoke, his voice dry, also sounding very far away. Or is that me? Robin wondered. Am I the one who’s far away?
“Hysteria,” he said, almost to himself.
Lisa went wild. “Don’t you fucking tell me I’m hysterical!”
Martin pointed at the broken mirror, cold and surreally calm. “That. Hysteria. We made it happen. I was reading accounts of similar occurrences under conditions of extreme psychological stress….”
His voice was flat, monotonous. But Robin noted with distant but crystalline clarity that there was an undertone there: excitement.
Patrick laughed uneasily, big and hulking in the half-light. “We all were pretty jacked up.” Beside him, Lisa looked dazed, disconnected, shivering. Patrick reached out, kneaded the back of her neck with a big hand. Robin felt a stab of jealousy, then a fragment of a rational thought. He’s used to hysteria. Because of Waverly .
Shadows crawled up the walls around them.
Robin heard herself speaking from a long distance. “I saw something in the mirror. Just before…”
Everyone looked at her in the dark, silent
Robin gasped and pulled her hands away from the planchette. She felt rather than saw Cain move forward behind her; then his hands were gripping her shoulders. Lisa was hugging herself from the edge of the shadows.
Martin pressed his fingers into the wood, white-faced and shouting. “I’m asking you . Tell me what you are!”
Everyone was still. The indicator slowly circled under Martin’s hands.
Robin watched, paralyzed, squeezing her hands together on her thighs, subliminally aware of Cain’s hands on her shoulders. She suddenly thought, with clarity for the first time, Lisa wasn’t moving it. It wasn’t ever any of us. Then, oh God…what is it?
The letters appeared inexorably under the cut circle of the pointer.
TELL ?
OR
Robin could feel the others craning forward, waiting, mesmerized, as the pointer’s circles diminished to barely a hover. Then a sudden burst of letters.
SHOW ?
Robin stared at the board in disbelief, the letters, the word echoing in her mind. No one was speaking the words aloud now; they were all just staring down in numb silence. She had just enough time to wonder, Show us what? How —
Martin commanded, “Show us.”
Cain spoke instantly: “No—”
The planchette scraped violently across the letters.
YOU WANT TO KNOW ME TAKE ME IN OPEN WIDE
In the hearth, the fireplace logs cracked open, showering sparks upward. All five of them spun toward the fire, freaked.
Robin caught movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced up at the mirror above the fireplace.
In the dark glass she saw a pale shape rushing forward, as if coming from a long distance, a tunnel. There was no time to scream, no time to react. All she had was a glimpse and then—
The mirror shattered.
Lisa and Robin screamed. All five of them jumped back as ugly glass spears shot from the mantel, exploding outward, shining briefly in the air, and then crashing on the floor.
No one moved. All five stood frozen, stunned, suspended in shock.
Patrick gasped out weakly, “Motherfucking shit.”
Robin’s heart was pounding in her chest. She could hear Martin breathing shallowly beside her, blinking behind his glasses. The room was utterly silent, the shadows long on the wall. Glass shards like knives littered the carpet, glittering in the firelight.
Cain was the first to move. He forced himself forward to the fireplace, stepping carefully around the razor-sharp glass. He reached out (Robin almost called out “ Don’t! “ but could not make herself speak) and put his hand flat against the pale circle of wall where the mirror had been.
“It’s hot,” he said. His voice was far away, as if he were in a trance. “Fire must have…heated the mirror and it broke.”
Lisa toned on him, nearly shrieking. “What planet are you on? It just happened to shatter ? At that precise moment? Gosh and gollee yes—happens every day.”
Martin spoke, his voice dry, also sounding very far away. Or is that me? Robin wondered. Am I the one who’s far away?
“Hysteria,” he said, almost to himself.
Lisa went wild. “Don’t you fucking tell me I’m hysterical!”
Martin pointed at the broken mirror, cold and surreally calm. “That. Hysteria. We made it happen. I was reading accounts of similar occurrences under conditions of extreme psychological stress….”
His voice was flat, monotonous. But Robin noted with distant but crystalline clarity that there was an undertone there: excitement.
Patrick laughed uneasily, big and hulking in the half-light. “We all were pretty jacked up.” Beside him, Lisa looked dazed, disconnected, shivering. Patrick reached out, kneaded the back of her neck with a big hand. Robin felt a stab of jealousy, then a fragment of a rational thought. He’s used to hysteria. Because of Waverly .
Shadows crawled up the walls around them.
Robin heard herself speaking from a long distance. “I saw something in the mirror. Just before…”
Everyone looked at her in the dark, silent
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