Through the Looking Glass (20 page)

"Good,
it's
here," he said, joining her.

"What is it?"

"Let's go into the living room, and you'll find out when you open it."

"The last time you brought me a present," she said as they went into the other room, "it was a box of clown noses."

Sitting down beside her on the couch, he laughed. "Not this time. Go ahead, open it."

She did, removing the paper and lifting the lid of the box. Inside, cushioned carefully in tissue paper, was a very old and delicate hand mirror. Despite its obvious age, the mirror had been polished to a perfect finish with no distortions, as bright as a diamond.

"Gideon, it's beautiful," she murmured.

He lifted the mirror from the box and held it up, then slowly turned it so that she could see the other side. "Something else you taught me," he said softly. "What you find on the back side of a mirror depends on how you reached it."

What he had found was an enchanted place hand-painted in pastel colors, the brushstrokes so airy and delicate that the scene seemed dreamlike. There were unicorns and dragons, elves and rainbows, lions and lambs.

Maggie stared at it for a long moment, then turned and looked up at him, her eyes lit from inside, from the very bottom, as if a star burned there eternally. "It used to hurt when I felt too much," she whispered, "and I had to turn away, because I was afraid it would disappear if I stared at it. But I don't have to look away from us, do I?"

"No, you don't have to look away," he murmured, laying the mirror aside and gathering her into his arms. "We're forever. I love you, Maggie."

"I love you, too, darling... so very much."

He stood at the balcony door of the hotel room, gazing down on the white strip of sand that was Miami Beach, a very old man with wise dark eyes whose elegant hands were folded over a gold-headed cane.

There was a rare furrow between his snowy brows, an unusual sign of disturbance, and the lovely woman watching him from a nearby chair duly took note.

"Trouble?" she asked quietly.

His voice, rich, low, curiously powerful, was more grave than usual. "I think so. It's a dangerous thing he's into."

"You'll be there," she said.

"Yes. Yes, I will." Somber, he turned to look at her. "But, this time I don't hold all the cards."