Free Through the Looking Glass by Autumn Dawn

Through the Looking Glass
    by
    Autumn Dawn
     
    © copyright February 2004, Autumn Beadreault
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright 2004
New Concepts Publishing
5202 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
     
    The glass felt cool and smooth. Ali ran her fingertips over her grandmother’s mirror, remembering the many times she’d seen her grandmother checking her appearance in the old cheval glass. Tomorrow it would be auctioned off, along with all of her grandmother’s things. Back taxes and a lengthy illness had drained Ali’s inheritance to a pittance, leaving her as destitute as the day she’d arrived on her grandmother’s doorstep, an orphan.
    It was growing dimmer as the storm clouds closed in, and the girl in the mirror became a blue silvered shadow. Her dark hair and eyes became colorless black, almost like the reflection cast on a dark window. This was her last night in her grandmother’s brownstone. Tomorrow she’d start her new job in a coffee house. At least she wouldn’t be a daycare worker--she’d make a terrible babysitter, especially if the children were brats. Her temper would get her fired for certain. Meanness in others always made her want to strike out.
    "That’s enough of that," she told herself sternly, choking off the urge to mope. Straightening her back, she almost turned away from the mirror, then stopped. A glimmer of movement in the corner of her eye made her turn back. There was nothing there.
    Frowning, she looked behind her. The window was shut on the storm, and there was no candle to throw shadows. What, then? Hoping to spy the source of movement, she studied the mirror. It was as it always was, except … was that a tree reflected in the glass? How could that be? No windows faced the mirror. Peering closer, she made out details, then color. The tree was moving in a slight breeze, and now there were others, like none she’d ever seen. She chanced a look behind her, saw an ordinary room, then reached out to touch the glass.
    It was like flowing through water. One moment she was barefoot in her nightgown, the next she was elsewhere.
    Tall trees shaded the wood, but the track she stood on parted them enough to allow golden sunshine to warm her face and touch her hair. Gaping at the warm blue sky, which was nothing like the pewter gray one she’d left, she wondered dazedly if she were dreaming. Dreams didn’t come with strawberry-scented breezes, did they?
    "Hey, watch it!"
    Ali jerked her eyes down and jumped back, just as a man on a bike swerved, nearly running her down. Staring at the man, whose seated position brought him nearly eye level to her, she tried to figure out where he came from and what the dickens he was riding. Motorcycles she knew, and they didn’t look like his sleek silver beast. Whatever it was, it had a white rabbit painted on the … tank, for lack of a better word.
    The man whipped off a pair of dark glasses. His green eyes narrowed as he looked her over. "Get out of the road, lady. I don’t have time for hitchhikers."
    She frowned at his tone. His white hair was crew cut, but his face was young, and he wore an odd black, short sleeved shirt, leather pants, and boots. "Excuse me," she said indignantly, moving aside to let him pass. Just her luck. One of the rare times she dreamed about a good looking guy, and he had to be a jerk. Figured.
    Instead of taking off, he stared at her. One pass of his quizzical eyes was all it took to make her wonder. She looked down--and stared. "What the--" Her night gown was gone, replaced by black boots, flowing burgundy harem pants, and a clinging black velvet top with red silk sleeves. Stumped, she tried to imagine herself dreaming up such an outfit and failed. Bad fashion sense aside, she’d never worn a shirt that flashed that much cleavage.
    The man eyed her heart-shaped neckline, seemingly forgetting about his rush for a moment. Defensively, Ali crossed her arms under her breasts, then realized it