Chapter 1
The black SUV hummed along the back, half paved, South Dakota road. Inside, Pete was steering with one hand and trying to pull the wrapper on a hamburger back with the other.
He asked Myka sitting in the passenger seat, "So you wouldn't want a mini-Myka running around, not ever?"
She laughed, shaking her head. "Absolutely not."
"Man I do. I want at least four mini-me's to yell at and get to soccer and ballet and whatever else. I'd love it."
Myka grabbed his hamburger away, folded back the wrapper, and shoved it back in his waiting hand. Pete turned off the road and pulled to a stop at the Warehouse gate.
Myka got out and opened the gate. He crept through and when he was past the gate, kept creeping. He watched Myka hurry to shut the gate and then run after the SUV. She threw the door open and with a couple hops was inside the SUV. He was grimacing before the punch landed on his arm.
"Jerk!" she told him.
He grinned, giving the vehicle some gas.
"I wouldn't be a good mother. Kids are so chaotic," Myka told him. "And demanding. I don't know if I could be that selfless."
"I think you could. In fact, I think you would be an awesome mom." Pete scarfed the last bite of hamburger, waded the paper and put it in his jacket pocket.
"You do?" she asked with a smile.
"Yeah! You already take care of all of us. A mini-me does mean you'd have to make more time for them, but I think you have it in you."
She looked away. "Thanks, Pete."
The road rattled the SUV. She glanced to the back.
"Easy there. I don't think we'll be forgiven if we break this thing."
"And there's the seven years bad luck."
"Superstitious much?"
"Yes."
"I'm waiting for the day you tell me camera's steal your soul."
They came down a hill and parked in front of the Warehouse. The two got out and Pete opened the back. From the back Together they pulled a large full length mirror shrouded in moving blankets. With Pete at the front and Myka at the back, they headed inside.
Pete shook his head. "That's just a lie. They don't steal your soul. They make you look ten pounds heavier."
"That I won't argue with that!" Myka said.
Pete stopped at the office door and punched in the code. It opened with a beep and they walked in. Artie was at his desk and only glanced up.
"Mirror aisle. Any trouble?" he asked.
"No problemo," Pete answered with Myka's, "No trouble."
"That museum director practically threw the mirror at us," Myka added. "She said she never wanted to see it again."
"She say why?"
"She felt like it was always watching her," Pete answered. "I think she was a little loopy. I mean… Have you ever been to National Museum of Health and Medicine? That place is just… Weird!"
Pete stopped to open the back door.
"Says Mr. Superstition," Myka jabbed.
"You say that now. Wait until something crazy happens in your life because of superstition and I'll get the last laugh."
"I have crazy things happen most days of my life with this job, and it's because of artifact, not superstition."
"Don't forget to face it away from the other mirrors and uncover it before you leave," Artie explained. "They get unhappy if they can't reflect the world around them and cause all kinds of problems."
Myka pulled Pete to a stop and looked back at Artie. "They get unhappy? Mirrors get unhappy?"
"Yes. Mirrors like to see the world, that's what they were designed for. If you keep them covered, they act out."
Pete turned to look back at Myka with a knowing grin.
"Oh shut up," she told him.
Pete laughed.
"And hurry back. We have to leave in a few hours," Artie told them.
They stopped outside the door.
"Leave?" Pete asked.
"Yes. There is a ping in Rapid City. We three are going to find it."
"No! Artie, take Claudia and Steve," Pete said.
"I'm taking you two. Hurry back."
"But I have pla—"
A sharp Artie–said–silence look stopped Pete's argument. He pulled Myka into a walk. She smiled at Artie.
"Be back in a flash," she told him as she was pulled out of sight.
Artie went back to his work.
#
Pete pulled the cart into the mirror aisle. All the mirrors faced a plain gray painted wall. He parked at the end of the line and the two got out. The two put together a stand first, and then slid the mirror into it. The two donned gloves and started to unwrap the packing blankets. One fell across Myka. She pulled it off, tossing it in the cart. Pete picked up the other blankets and turned. He started chuckling.
"Nice do, Mykes."
She walked in front of the mirror and smiled. The static electricity made her hair stand up on end. She was smoothing it down when she noticed something about the mirror.
"Pete."
"Yeah?" He was folding the packing blankets and putting them in the back of the cart.
"Remember that one diamond that was lit when we picked this up?"
"Yeah?"
"It's flashing."
Pete turned, looking at the diamond at the top. Two rows of four diamonds decorated the top, and the bottom right one was slowly pulsing.
"You read the card for this thing and said it didn't mention the jewels or lights. Did it mention pulsing lights?"
"No. Maybe we should tell Artie."
"Sure," Pete answered, sounding distracted.
Myka turned, missing a ripple across the mirror's surface like a drop of water had hit it. Pete was almost done with the blanket. She turned back and finished straightening her hair. She froze when the surface rippled.
"The mirror is rippling."
"So does that wood one and that gold one at the very end." Pete said, pointing down the row at two other mirrors.
She looked at them, then the new one. "I wonder why they do that."
"They are artifacts. Wondering will only hurt your head." Pete climbed into the cart. "And if her beautiness is done beautifying herself, can we go?"
Myka sat down on the passenger side. He gunned it, heading around the aisle and back to the office.
"Second Tuesday of the month," Myka said. "I just realized that."
"Huh?" he asked.
"Today is the second Tuesday of the month. You and Janie always have supper the second Tuesday of the month, and the third Sunday of the month."
"And?"
"Nothing. I think it's sweet."
"You do not think it's sweet. You don't even like Janie!"
"I like Janie. I think you maybe father her a little too much, but I like her."
"You are always telling me everything she's doing wrong. You… You mother her!"
Their argument faded as they drove away.