The Magician’s Hat: Part 5-The Hall of Mirrors

The Magician’s Hat: Part 5-The Hall of Mirrors

Do you like stories with mystery and suspense? Strange and “wyrd” ones? Well, if you do, keep reading and enjoy Eggcentricsagas.  If you are just joining Eggcentricsagas, you might want to start from the beginning: A La Mano: Part 1-The Treasure

Edward pulled his top hat down farther on his head and started to run to his train car. The rain that had been a drizzle moments before had now turned into a torrent. His upper body was very damp when he stepped inside. Fortunately, the shared quarters were empty. Edward pulled his overcoat off as well as his waistcoat. Tossing his top hat and the other garments into the corner, he sat on the mat that served as his bed. The coach had a persistent musty, stale odor from its occupants, but at least, it was warm. Edward hoped that his pungent companions would not return any time soon as he enjoyed this private time. Looking out the carriage door at the dusky, blue, twilight sky, he noted the rain had ceased, but a breeze had begun.

Edward sighed as he lay back and propped his head on his muscular arms.  The young man was tired as the day had been long, hot and moist. After he had defused the situation with the travellers, he had to start working. Always the showman, talking the customers in or on the stage performing. Yawning, he closed his eyes and briefly wondered about the fortune teller’s whereabouts. The Strong Man had proven to be clueless in this respect. One of the girls had acted strange when questioned about Madame Glass; she knew something that she wasn’t telling. Determined, tomorrow, he would glean more information from her. The pretty girl was unusual with her long, thick, wavy golden hair. Thoughts of running his fingers through it floated through his sleepy mind. Soon, he drifted off, lulled by the coziness of the car and the sound of the wind blowing outside.

Abruptly, a jolt brought him back to awareness. He must have fallen asleep as the car interior was almost black when Edward opened his eyes.  The carriage was swaying back and forth as the wind howled outside. The magic man sat up quickly and looked around. The car was empty except for him. Getting up, he staggered to the entrance. The wind was fierce and nearly blew him back inside. Steadying himself by clutching the door jamb, he peered out. There, in the dim light, was a looming funnel cloud. The core of the impending tornado seemed to be headed straight for the carnival grounds.

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Charlotte was about to cross the portal of the Hall of Mirrors when the man in the top hat called out to her, “Oh, Miss, I think you dropped something.”  He walked over and opened his hand to show her what was inside. “Is this bracelet yours?” On his open palm lay the rhinestone heart charm.

“Yes it is.”

As he handed it to her, he said, “Is it broken?”

Looking at it briefly, she replied, “It seems to be alright. It must have just slipped off.” Charlotte tried to put it back on her wrist but fumbled with the clasp.

The man offered, “Would you like me to help you?”

She looked up at him and smiled sheepishly. “Sure.”

He grinned and helped her fasten it back on.

“Thanks for finding it.”

Still grinning, he told her, “Your new outfit suits you. Have fun in there.”

Charlotte beamed at him before following her friend into the tunnel. “Wait up Betsy!” she called.

The passageway was lined with mirrors and dimly lit with only enough light to safely navigate it. The subdued glow made her distorted appearance in each of the mirrors even weirder. Different paths branched off the dark hallway, but Charlotte continued forward as it twisted and turned. Soon it widened into a chamber illuminated by a single, buzzing light bulb. Filled by mirrors, the circular room had several gloomy openings.

Charlotte thought she heard the sound of Betsy’s footsteps from one of the doorways. Walking over to it, she called out for her friend, “Betsy where are you?” There was no answer, only the sound of the wind. Getting progressively louder, it was no longer a whistle but a low rumble. The tent walls were trembling, and the swaying light created bobbing shadows.

Rubbing her arms, Charlotte returned to the center of the room and glanced around. Everywhere she looked, all of her contorted images were staring at her. Which way?  Disconcerted, the girl chose a corridor she thought she had come from and started to retrace her steps. Navigating the twisting and turning maze for a distance, she saw the light of the entrance. Her eyes shining, she quickened her pace and passed through the doorway into the light. Her mouth fell open as Charlotte realized that she had come back to the heart of the network. She was lost!

Confused and scared, she started to run around the room, calling out at each hall for Betsy. Her friend was gone. Now, the wind sounded like a freight train, and the walls began to undulate and flap. The light oscillated wildly, creating frightening silhouettes and images in the mirrors. In her jumbled state of mind, the shadows became dancing demons. Feeling trapped, Charlotte shouted for help, but none was forthcoming. The roaring winds drowned out her screams. Soon the gale caused one section of the tent walls to collapse, resulting in mirrors crashing down. Shards of glass littered one side of the room. Not knowing what else to do, Charlotte chose a door on the other side to escape.

The hallway was a shifting path as she attempted to run down it. The wind blasted her, blowing her long hair around her face and shattering mirrors behind her. Spotting a light at the end of the tunnel, the girl ran as fast as possible. Before reaching it, she felt a searing pain at the back of her neck, and blackness overtook her.

Next: The Magician’s Hat: Part 6-In the Vortex

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About J Fremont

Author/veterinarian J. Fremont has created Magician of Light, a novel about famed glassmaker Rene Laliqué. Exercise your imagination. Enjoy!