Free Bad Luck Girl by Sarah Zettel

the job of putting out the news the way they want it. Probably saying she disappeared off the back lot is better than saying how she was found up at the Hearst mansion. He wouldn’t want the police sniffing around there. Especially with … everything.” Mr. Hearst had made some kind of deal with the Seelie king. I didn’t understand it, but I did know that the king sometimes lived in Mr. Hearst’s house. Sometimes, the king lived under his skin.
    “Look, let’s sit down.” Jack was pointing at the nearest bench.
    I nodded. I told myself I couldn’t worry about what the papers were saying, or what anybody thought happened. There were more than enough things to worry about right here at hand. This didn’t help a whole lot, but it got my head far enough back in the present that I could help Mama ease Papa onto the bench. After a couple of hard breaths, he managed to sit himself up straight. He patted Mama’s hand and gave her a smile as he remembered to adjust his fedora to hide his eyes. Mama smiled back, tired and glad, her deep blue eyes bright despite their bags and dark rings. I looked around quick to see if anyone was taking special notice of our mixed bag of a family, but nobody did, not that I could see anyhow. An ache made up of equal parts hope and worry took up residence low in my throat.
    “Callie, honey,” said Mama. “I’m going to use the powder room. You wait here.”
    “No, Mama, I’ll come with you.” There was no way I was letting her out of my sight, not with who-knew-what-kind of fairies out there looking for us. Besides, it’d get me away from all the shouting newsies for at least a couple minutes. “Jack can stay with Papa.”
    Mama looked like she wanted to protest, but instead, she pulled her manners and deportment over her and marched into the crowd. I followed, trying not to listen to the newsboys, or see the headlines on the papers people were holding up in front of their faces. I didn’t have much luck, but I did try.
    The powder room was as full as any other part of thestation, with women going in and out of the stalls or standing in front of the sinks to wash their hands and fix their lipstick. Mama shut herself into a stall while I waited for a turn at the sink. When I got there, I filled my cupped hands with cold water, slapped my face down into it, and stayed there until I needed to breathe again. When I finally lifted my face, the mirror showed my reflection with water running down my hollow cheeks where my face had pulled itself tight around my bones.
    It’ll be all right
, I told my reflection.
Just gotta give it time. Just gotta hold it together until we get to New York
.
    But why was what happened to Ivy coming back now? I tried to tell myself it was just the news. It was nothing personal, like my bad luck hard at work again. But I didn’t believe that. I felt wrong, like there were eyes watching me out of the dark. I grit my teeth and shook the water off my hands, looking for a towel.
    Calliope
.
    Movement in the mirror caught my eye and I whipped myself back around.
    Hear me, Calliope. You must hear me
.
    Under the reflection of that marble room with the women putting on their red lipstick and adjusting their hats, there was another reflection. It was a room all decked out in jewels and silks, rich as a pirate’s cave. But there was something wrong with it, like it had been broken and put back together badly. I squinted. Then I stared, because in the middle of that shattered room, there was a ghost. A woman, as brokenas the room around her. She looked as if she was made of obsidian and diamonds, and I knew her.
    Granddaughter, you must hear me
.
    The shattered image of my grandmother, the queen of the Midnight Throne, crouched in the middle of that broken room. Why hadn’t I thought about this? If we could see in to them through the reflections, they could see out to us. She’d done it before.
    Grandmother stretched out her hand, trying to reach right through