I Must Be Crazy

The feeling of stepping though glass was strange, but not unpleasant. It was cold and smooth, and her skin tingled as it passed. Inside, the sounds from outside were completely cut off. Turning to face the others, Tracy said, “Now what?” more as a test than anything else. Her voice echoed back loudly enough to her own ears, but outside Darcie pointed to her ears and shrugged - clearly enough sign language for ‘I can’t hear you’. Markus, who had apparently regained some of his sense of humour, began miming a glass box around him.
Sighing, Tracy turned back to the jewel. It was resting on a glass pedestal, the smooth, mirror-like surface facing towards her. She was about to reach out and just take it with both hands when a strangely familiar voice said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She stopped and whirled around, trying to locate the speaker. She saw no-one except Darcie and Markus outside. There was a sigh. “Sometimes I despair, I really do,” the voice said. “Look in the crystal.” With some trepidation, Tracy peered into the smooth surface. Her reflection looked back at her with a pitying expression. “There we go, now, wasn’t that easy?”
“You can speak?”
“Of course I can. You can, can’t you? I can do anything you can do.”
“Why did you say I shouldn’t take the crystal?” Tracy asked. The reflection rolled its eyes.
“Because it’s booby-trapped, you nit. Don’t you ever watch that type of movie? Grand heist things?”
“I wasn’t aware this was a heist.”
“Well, it is. And the crystal is booby-trapped.”
Tracy said uncertainly, “I thought this crystal was meant to reflect my true self.”
“It is. Don’t ask stupid questions - and what are you doing believing that, anyway? Mr Pith told you that. He takes the pith.”
Agreeing silently, the blonde girl examined the glass pedestal. “So how do I break the booby-trap? Or prevent tripping it, or whatever?”
“You think I’m just going to tell you?”
“You’re my reflection. Don’t we have the same objectives in mind? I’d help you. Help me help you, by you helping me, because it’s the same thing and we’re both the same person anyway.”
There was a long silence. “That was a terrible explanation,” Tracy’s reflection said gravely. “But I’ll tell you anyway, because wherever you’re going to take this jewel, it’s probably more interesting than here.”
Tracy frowned. “Why does that worry you?”
“Because I’m stuck in here.” Her reflection smiled, a little sadly. “This jewel is a grimmer thing than Mr Pith would have you know. It’s not so much that it reflects the true personality of the person who looks into it… it’s more that it contains a fragment of everyone alive. When you look into it you see that essence of yourself as a reflection.” It grinned. “Very sinister, no? Could cause lots and lots of problems.”
Tracy chewed her lip, wondering if it was really a good idea to be giving such a thing to Mr Pith. On the other hands, if she didn’t get it, Tiar would be free to do whatever she wished to the world. “How do I bypass the booby-trap?”Her reflection shrugged. “Don’t drop the crystal.”
“That’s all? I thought it was something… complicated.”
“No, I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing.” Her reflection nodded. “Right then. Pick up the crystal and go. Simple as that. Good luck, Tracy - with whatever it is you need to do.”
As Tracy stepped out of the glass cube, Darcie asked, “What took you?”
“Oh… I, er… just thought it might be booby-trapped,” said Tracy. For some reason she didn’t want to say anything about her conversation with her reflection. It didn’t seem the type of thing people would really share.

“That took you long enough!” Mr Pith snapped from the ground as Darcie, Tracy and Markus exited the portal.
“You should have done it, then,” Darcie said shortly, climbing down the furniture steps.
“Tracy!” Lissy ran up to hug her, then Markus. “I was a big girl while you were gone! I drew a pretty picture, too!”
“She did, it’s a very pretty picture,” Hadrian said, with more warmth than was customary for him. Zariya grinned mischievously.
“Watch out, I think the vamp’s getting broody or something,” she whispered in her ear, and the nanny laughed.
Mr Pith held his hands out for the crystal. “Thank you very much for getting the Jewel of Mirrors, I’m very grateful, blah de blah de blah. Can I have it now?”
Tracy hesitated. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to sell it back to the agency and get lots of money,” grinned the little man. “They’re looking for these. The finder’s fee is enough to pay to hire your hunter, and have a whole lot left over. It’s a win-win situation.”
“And what will the agency do with it?” persisted Tracy. Mr Pith shook his head impatiently.
“I don’t know! Probably put it in their little vault thing, or haggle with someone, or something… it hardly matters! Just give it here. You have a time limit - if I don’t get the crystal in the next thirty seconds it’ll be null and void and you’ll have to get me another one to pay for that demon hunter.”
“Tracy, just give it to him,” said Markus warningly. “Once was bad enough.”
She relented, and placed the shining object in the little man’s eager arms. He cooed over it as if it were a baby, and scuttled out of the room.
“Come, come, come and wait in front of the desk,” he called to them. Crispin, who was closest to the door, saw him disappear into the room through the door behind the desk, clutching his treasure.
“Are you all okay?” Zariya asked Tracy. She nodded.
“There were some weird things in that place.”
The werewolf smiled, a little bleakly. “I’m not surprised. You don’t understand what that world was, do you?”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Crispin said, going out the door.
“Leave it that way,” Hadrian said gravely, following him. Tracy looked between them all, confused. Darcie patted her on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, Trace. Come on, let’s go get that hunter.”

Mr Pith soon returned to sit behind the desk and tap away busily on the computer, murmuring to himself. At last he looked up brightly and grinned, more cheerful than any of the group had ever seen him.
“Wonderful! Here we go, a demon hunter of the highest quality, to suit all needs and going to the highest bidder. Very mercenary - a sign of a good businessman, methinks. Oh well, we’re the highest bidder, so he’ll be arriving by portal any moment now.”
“That was fast,” said Tracy, surprised, and Mr Pith waved his hand.
“Oh, when you give us good service, such as retrieving famous, priceless jewels for us, we give good service in return - fast, quality service! Everyone’s happy, everyone’s having fun, let’s throw a party! But a professional one, with good quality drinks and trained bouncers.”
Tracy and Markus exchanged glances as they settled back to wait for the demon hunter to arrive.
The entrance he made was dramatic, but through the front doors of the agency as if he’d walked, or caught a bus. The doors were flung violently open, and in he strode: Myles Granger, demon hunter extraordinaire, if his profile on the computer database was to be believed. He was a tall, well-muscled man, with curly brown hair of medium length; he wore a long brown leather jacket, and a battered hat with a wide brim that put his eyes in shadow.
He was, however, proof that first impressions weren’t always reliable. Following this dramatic entrance, he glanced around a little self-consciously and strolled over to lean on the desk.
“Pithy. Hey. How’re you doing. Don’t answer, actually, I don’t care. What’s the job?”
Mr Pith’s lips curled, but he didn’t react to being called ‘Pithy’ as Tracy was expecting him to. “Ah, Myles, how nice to see you again. Your hat is as oppressive as ever, and your company just as… charming.”
“Glad to hear it. Job?”
Mr Pith motioned to the people around him; the hunter blinked at them in surprise, as if they’d just appeared magically before him.
“These are your customers,” said Mr Pith. “Try not to make them hate your guts, will you?”
“I thought you said he was of the highest quality,” Darcie said to the small man. He shrugged.
“He’s good at his job, I’ll give him that. It’s just that his people skills could be equated to those of a very unsociable crocodile. Or perhaps an amoeba. Or a small ape who’d never known any other apes.”
“I think I preferred the crocodile,” remarked Granger, lighting a cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke into the air. “What exactly is it I’m needing to do?”
“There’s a demon,” said Markus flatly. “You’re meant to be hunting her.”
“Oh, really? I wondered why I was here. Who is she, where is she, why?”
“She’s called Tiar, I dunno where she is, and because she killed people.”
“That’s normal,” said the demon hunter dismissively, standing up. “Ah well, I’ll do my best. I’ll see you later, then.” Without further ado, he stalked out.

Just as the group were about to leave, Mr Pith called them back. “One more thing… I forgot, I needed to speak to you about something.” When they came back, he motioned for them to sit down, and smiled at Darcie, then at Tracy, Markus and Lissy. “Well then. Isn’t this cosy.”
There was an awkward silence, then Tracy said, “What did you call us back for?”
“Just a simple little matter… of payment.”
“Payment?” Markus said in mild alarm. “What for? We got your jewel for you!”
Mr Pith waved this away. “Not for him, silly boy, for her.” He nodded at Darcie, who blinked. “Her free trial period is up now; if you want to keep her on, she’s going to cost you.”
“How much?” Tracy asked. “Do I dare ask?”
Mr Pith smirked. “Probably not. Tell you what… you can get me another jewel.”
Darcie said over the groaning of those who’d have to pay, “How’s your hair loss going, Mr Pith?”
The man’s face turned black as thunder, and one hand went up to his bald patch. “I think you can see that,” he said coldly. Darcie smiled.
“I have something you might like,” she said, pulling a bottle from her pocket and waggling it teasingly. Mr Pith’s eyes followed it.
“What’s that?” he asked curiously.
“This is my own special brand of extra-special growth formula,” said Darcie. “Guaranteed to make hair grow like you’re twenty years old again. Uh uh uh!” she added, as Mr Pith made a grab for it. “This stuff is hard to make… a little bottle like this takes five years to make.”
“What do you want for it, then?” snapped Mr Pith. Darcie leaned towards him.
“I want to work for these people,” she said. “For free.”
“Are you insane?”
“Five years, Mr Pith. Five years hard work. Five more years before that, perfecting the formula and finding the right plants…”
“Fine!” he said desperately, holding out his hands. “Two months!”
“Three,” said Darcie quickly.
“Two and a half?”
“Two and three quarters.”
“Done.” Mr Pith hid the bottle in his jacket and turned back to the computer. “Right. You’re done. That’s it. Goodbye. Get out of my face.”
“Very friendly,” remarked Tracy under her breath. Darcie grinned.