Candy Kisses

Candy Kisses

Chapter Fourteen

“It’s Funny How Life Turns Out
The Odds Of Faith
In The Face Of Doubt”
-- Josh Joplin Group

Nicholas bit off another chunk of hamburger and tried to make himself actually chew this one. But his hunger drove him to swallow it before his teeth had a chance to do their work. The Big Mac was cold, and grease had soaked into its bun, turning the bread into a gooey mess. But Nicholas didn’t care. Right at that moment, it tasted like the best meal he could ever remember eating. Pausing only long enough to take a breath, he grabbed the soda cup, and slurped up its sweet contents.

“Slow down,” Pepper warned. But when Nicholas met her gaze, she smiled at him. It felt so damn good to see her smile again. Nicholas returned her grin -- at least, as well as he could, with his mouth still wrapped around the soda straw.

Pepper shook her head. “Sylvia risked a lot when she came here and healed you. Don’t spoil it all by choking to death on a French fry.”

Finally, Nicholas’s hunger and thirst waned enough to allow him to take the time for other luxuries. Like talking. “I feel fine,” he assured, able to hear the worry hidden beneath Pepper’s gentle chiding. “I’m alright now.”

“You very nearly weren’t.” Glancing down, Pepper kicked at one of the glowing sparks which lay scattered around her feet. “I swear, if you ever start dying again, you better do it quick. I can’t take the slow version.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nicholas promised. Rising to his feet, he wiped his hands on his jeans, and walked over to the mirror. Softly, he blew onto it, until the moisture in his breath collected on the mirror’s silver surface. Then he pressed his lips against the condensation, leaving the shape of his kiss imprinted on its misty canvas. For the moment, that was all he could give her. “I suppose there’s not much I can make you promise about your own death. Seeing as it happened before I ever met you.”

Pepper stroked the spot on the mirror where his kiss lingered. “I don’t like to think of myself as dead. There’s such a lot of prejudice against dead people. I much prefer the term...ah...living challenged.”

“Speaking of which, we’d better find a way out of here, or we’re both going to be living challenged.” Nicholas glanced around the room. There was the door leading to the café’s main area, but he had a hunch they didn’t want to make their escape along that route. Which left the back door. Crossing over to it, Nicholas was pleased to discover that the door locked from the inside. “We can go out this way. Be gone before they know it.”

“Can you carry me? The mirror is awfully big.”

Nicholas frowned as he realized Pepper had a point. The mirror was easily as tall as him, and set in a heavy wooden frame -- an awkward thing to lug around, even if stealth and speed weren’t crucial. And what if he lost his grip? What if he stumbled and dropped it? If the mirror broke, would Pepper be trapped inside it forever? “Damn. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You go. Get help and come back for me.”

“No,” Nicholas refused. “What if they discover I’m gone? They might move you before I get back. Or do something even worse.” Shaking his head, he returned to the mirror. “I won’t leave you. Whatever happens now, it happens to both of us.”

“Well, we can’t just sit here like a pair of truffles in a pretty box!”

That was true. Again, Nicholas looked around the room, searching for inspiration. And this time, his gaze snagged on the Happy Meal box. From what Pepper had told him, he knew Sylvia to be a practical woman, curt in her speech and deliberate in her actions. So why a Happy Meal? Surely not just some random flight of whimsy. There had to be a reason. What did a Happy Meal have that other takeout food couldn’t provide? A box, made of flimsy cardboard, covered with word searches, mazes, and other children’s games. And a toy.

Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat. A toy. Dropping to his knees, he thrust his hand into the Happy Meal box. Beneath the crumpled Big Mac wrapper and empty French fry container, his fingers brushed against plastic. While he was eating, he’d taken no notice of the cheap trinket, but now he yanked it into the light. And found himself holding a device that vaguely resembled a clam. Nicholas squinted at the strange object, staring at it until his eyes ached, as if his determination alone could force it to reveal its nature.

However, Pepper was the one who finally provided enlightenment. “That’s not a toy! That’s a makeup compact.”

“A what?”

“A makeup compact. It opens, and there’s usually blush or rouge inside.”

Okay. A toy which wasn’t a toy. This had to be it. But what did Sylvia expect him to do with cosmetics? Make himself pretty and seduce his way out of the situation? Puzzled, Nicholas continued to examine the compact, until one of his fingers slipped against the latch, popping it open. As Pepper had predicted, the bottom half contained a peach-colored powder and a puff for applying it. The top half contained a small, circular mirror.

A mirror. A pocket-size, portable mirror. Understanding hit Nicholas like a bolt of lightning. But he didn’t immediately hurry back to Pepper. Instead, he remained kneeling, while Raedeman’s words echoed around inside his head. If you try to break our little agreement, I’ll take back what you owe me. And that’s more than you might imagine. Yes. If he did this, if he helped Pepper and Marzi, there would be consequences. But what did he expect? Nicholas no longer believed in something for nothing. That had been his first mistake, and he didn’t plan to make it again. Now he understood that everything had a price, and life was about trying to decide which prices were worth being paid -- for Pepper, no price could be too high. Not even if Raedeman took his life.

Slowly, Nicholas rose to his feet. Then he walked over to Pepper. “I think I understand. Sylvia must believe that it’s possible for you to pass between mirrors. If you could get into this small one, the one in the compact, then I could carry you out of here without any trouble.”

Pepper nodded. “Let’s try it.”

Not daring to hope, Nicholas brought the two mirrors into contact. On the other side of her prison, Pepper raised her hand and pushed it against the spot where the silver surfaces met. Nicholas could see her mouth twitch from the strain of trying to break free. But, in the end, she was forced to give up. “I can’t. It’s like trying to go through a wall.”

“There must be something we’re missing.” Nicholas struggled to remember any details from the ritual which had first trapped Pepper in the mirror. The robed men had chanted. But Nicholas didn’t have the slightest idea what they’d said, and Sylvia wouldn’t expect him to. So the crucial component must be something else. Something he’d have access to. Something like...blood.

The final robed figure had pricked his finger and let the blood fall onto the mirror. That must be it. But as Nicholas scanned the room, he noticed a definite lack of sharp objects. Apart from trying to give himself a paper cut on the Big Mac wrapper, he seemed to be out of luck. The only two things made of glass were the two mirrors -- exactly the two things he couldn’t risk breaking. Other than them, there were only the chairs, the table, and that damn light bulb.

The light bulb.

“Pepper. Stand close to the mirror. Keep your hands touching it. The lights are about to go out and I don’t want you getting lost.”

“What are you going to do?”

Nicholas didn’t answer. Instead, he carried a chair over to the spot beneath the light bulb, and then climbed up onto it. The bulb’s thin glass burned his fingers as he touched it, forcing a few muffled curses between his lips. But he still managed to unscrew it. Immediately, complete darkness consumed the room. Blindly groping at shapes hidden in the black, Nicholas nearly fell off the chair, before he managed to get down safely and make his way back across the room. Where, after only three tries, he succeeded in hitting the bulb against the table edge, breaking it.

In the darkness, he heard Pepper’s cry of fear. “Nicholas? What was that? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Wincing, Nicholas dragged his thumb across a broken shard of the light bulb. Then, he held his cut over the compact mirror, and squeezed blood onto it. In the darkness, he couldn’t tell how many drops fell. But when the surface felt slick, he judged that to be enough, and returned to Pepper.

“I’ve got the two mirrors pressed together. See if you can get between them.”

Several moments of silence dragged by, followed by Pepper’s voice. “I’ve found it! It’s such a little hole -- I can barely put my hand through it.”

Nicholas swore, infuriated at being defeated after coming so far. “Dammit. The mirror is small enough for me to carry, but too small for you to get into.”

“I think...I think I need to let go of my form. Become unsubstantial for just long enough to pass through the hole. But what if I can’t pull myself back together? What if I evaporate? Slip away into nothing?”

“It’s going to be alright.” Nicholas pressed his hand against the mirror, aching to hold her, to offer her the comfort she deserved. “This is going to work. We’re going to get out of here, and rescue Marzi, and all three of us will go back to Sugar Hearts together. You and he can make magical candies. And I swear, even if I never sing again, if I spend the rest of my life working the cash register, I’ll be happy. Just as long as you smile at me from time to time.”

“L’amore vincera,” she whispered. A disembodied voice in the darkness, but somehow Nicholas felt her all around him, like the memory of sunlight.

“You made me believe that once,” he reminded. “Do this and make me believe it again.”

“Alright.” And then, much more softly -- the ghost of a voice as she began to dissolve. “I love you.”

Despite the confidence he’d tried so hard to project, Nicholas’s voice cracked as he answered her. “I love you, too.”

Still holding the compact in place, Nicholas bowed his head against the larger mirror, and prayed. God? I’ve lost my faith in making deals with higher powers. And even if I hadn’t, I don’t know what I could possibly offer you. I don’t know if I really screwed up, or if this is all part of some larger plan, and if it is all part of some larger plan, then I don’t know what I could possibly say to make you change your mind. But if there is a bit of wiggle room, if one human’s prayers can possibly make a difference, then please. Please.

“Nicholas? I’m through.”

An exclamation of joy jumped from Nicholas’s throat, and he kissed the compact mirror. Then, as gently as possible, he shut it, before tucking it in his pocket. “Okay. Let’s get the hell out of here.”