Page 141 of The Seven Rings
“More demands I go in. But… There’s nothing about it in Marianne Poole’s journal. The only time I saw it, other than as a vehicle to bring me in and out, was the day Dobbs killed Astrid. Astrid was at the mirror,thatmirror, when Dobbs killed her. Her blood. Staggering back, her hand on the glass. Her blood on the glass.”
“The first bride’s blood, innocent blood on the glass even as Dobbs spewed her evil, stole the ring—the first ring. Blood’s life,” Cleo said. “Astrid’s blood brought the mirror to life.”
“That’s a conclusional reach,” Trey considered, “but I’ll allow it. The mirror exists, we’ve all seen it. It has power. That’s undeniable. Only Pooles can go through it—Cleo and I are blocked. So are the dogs, the cat. No way Jones would sit on this side otherwise. But Sonya’s the one it pulls, not Owen.”
“She’s the one who needs to see. I’m just the muscle.”
“More,” Sonya corrected. “Glittery sparks. I missed them, you didn’t. Trey, in his lawyerly way, brings the facts. Cleo, in her Cleo way, thinks outside the lines into the magic.”
Steadier by far, Sonya sipped the last of her tea.
“Dobbs brought the storm,” she continued. “She’ll bring it again, and more, and likely worse. But the four of us together, the combination of strengths? We bring a perfect storm, a counterbalance.”
Simple Minds reminded Sonya, “Don’t You (Forget About Me).”
“Wouldn’t and couldn’t. Not you, Clover, or any of you. I saw my dad, and I’m going to take that gift and consider this a really good night. I could apologize for the meltdown, but I needed it. So thanks, all three of you, for holding me up.”
“You need some sleep. We all do.”
She nodded at Trey. “No argument on that.”
They went up together. When Sonya finally slipped into bed, Trey drew her close.
“I need to hold on a minute.”
“As long as you like. I know how hard it is for you to wait on this side while I’m on the other.”
When he said nothing, she angled up to touch his lips with hers. “I had to wait on the other side twice while you were in the Gold Room. I think we’re getting closer, Trey. That’s not logical, really, but I feel it. And feeling that’s going to help me sleep tonight.”
“It’s not illogical. We’re piling up weight on our side of the scale. And you’re here, safe. That’ll help me sleep tonight.”
He woke at three, listened to the clock strike, to the music, the weeping, the murmurs. But Sonya didn’t stir. So holding her still, he slept with her.
Chapter Eighteen
After an understandably late start, Sonya thought they made good progress in the ballroom.
She found small treasures, as she’d hoped. A Valentine’s Day card, both sweet and elaborate, to Lisbeth Poole from her Edward.
It promised they’d be sweethearts forever and a day.
Not a promise he could keep, she thought as she tucked the card and envelope in a box.
They found an old Maxwell House coffee tin holding rocks and pebbles. Though obviously a child’s collection, Cleo pounced on it.
On her systematic journey through, Sonya found a beautiful piece Owen identified as a folding card table, in carved rosewood.
And immediately assigned it to the game room.
“I may suck at video games, but expand those horizons to cards, board games? Oh, I bet I could find some vintage board games online. We’d need a cabinet to put those in, or something with open shelves to display them. Display them,” she decided immediately.
“I like it.” Cleo adjusted the clip she had holding her hair up and back. “We find a pretty old jar, display those marbles. Arrange the other toys we’ve found.”
“Exactly! Get games that’ve been around awhile. Ah, Parcheesi, cribbage, backgammon. Find a vintage poker set. For display and use. Anything new and shiny, that goes in a drawer. And there it is!”
Sonya used both index fingers to point at a bookcase with three glass doors. “Isn’t that the same wood as the table? Owen, isn’t it?”
He studied the case with a mix of admiration and despair. “Yeah, it’s rosewood, and it’s a beauty. It’s not the same era as the table.”
