“Go in where?” asked Megan. In the moonlight all she could see was a hillside and some boulders. “See those two boulders? The big ones leaning against each other, right there.” “Yeah…sort of.” “See the darker part in between them?” “Yeah…” “That’s the entrance. That’s where we go in. It’s a cave.” “Liss,” said Megan,… Continue reading

Megan, who had half expected to see something in the mirror, was just about to make a snide comment when Lisa gasped. She was bent over the mirror, still staring at it. To Megan the mirror appeared just the same, but Lisa seemed to be seeing something else. She stiffened, then softly chanted what sounded… Continue reading

It took Lisa three months to ferret out the reference books she needed in the library, read more of Agneta’s diaries, and decipher enough of the grimoire to understand what she thought was the whole story. She hadn’t returned to her thoughts about how unusual it seemed for the two of them to suddenly be… Continue reading

Lisa and Megan tried as many different things as they could think of to make the mirror reveal anything magical. Megan even sarcastically tried the incantation from “Snow White”; asking the mirror who was the fairest of them all. Finally, with the daylight streaming in the tower windows beginning to dim, Megan convinced Lisa to… Continue reading

New York City, 1993 The Clemens family, Gerald, Nancy, and their daughters Megan and Lisa, walked unsteadily out onto the 7th Avenue sidewalk. They had just had some news — good news, to be sure, but huge, and completely unexpected. In the course of the past hour they had learned that they had a great… Continue reading

It took Agneta a week to ready everything for the construction of the mirror. She intended to follow the instructions in the grimoire precisely, which meant the project, with its many ingredients and rituals, must be done as a continuous process that would take 24 hours. She needed an excuse to be absent for so… Continue reading

No one ever followed the old woman in black as she tottered away from the town center. Just a crazy old woman, of course, so who would give her a second thought? And not only that, but even though she was seldom noticed, there was something about her that made people just a bit uncomfortable.… Continue reading

Europe, 1795 The tiny old figure, clad completely in tattered black sackcloth, had become a familiar figure around certain parts of town. She tottered unsteadily about, never speaking, unspoken to, and because of her thick black veil, unrecognized. Most people didn’t spare her a second glance, thinking that she must be from a gypsy wagon… Continue reading