Chapter Nine

This nightmare ain't over

I'll watch my window for the morning sun

I know when it's over

I'll just be

Hungry for another one

-'Hungry for another one' by JT Music

Six peered between the floorboards at the Lady. Her rigidity verses the fluidity of her movements made Six think that perhaps she had received some bad news and was going to think it over.

Maybe she heard news of me, Six thought, her little hands clenching on the strands of a nearby rug. Just like the First Guest said. She's scared of me.

Without a backwards glance, the lady glided into the elevator, the swish of her train the only sound in the stillness. Six couldn't even hear the Lady's feet tap on the ground. But then, is she really walking? Six questioned. Her long skirt hid any semblance of legs the Lady might have. She might be floating, legless above the ground. What if she started to tip over? Six wondered. Eager to see the answer, she turned her attention more aptly to the Lady, but to her disappointment the object of her attention simply raised her chin and the elevator doors closed, beginning their ascension.

The pull in Six's heart only became stronger as the Lady disappeared and she wriggled from her hiding place, tiptoeing to the foot of the elevator. The activating button was above the reach of her arms, but Six amended this quickly by throwing a nearby decorative jar to press it for her. As the elevator rumbled back down, Six wondered suddenly if standing directly in front of the doors was a wise idea. But they opened soon, displaying the elevator empty and entirely at her service. Six stepped in and was immediately swallowed by the room, the doors closing behind her.

It was dark in there, but the lift was not as rickety as the open one in the Janitor's lair, or the one the chefs used by their kitchen or in the guest house. Six could hardly feel the movement as she was borne upwards.

When the elevator coasted to a halt and the doors slid open with a rustle of wood panels, Six disembarked, cautiously peering about. The first things that caught her eye were the four or so mannequins arranged decoratively along the walls. Six's mouth quirked and she shot them a suspicious glare. After a thorough appraising, she let them be, but their presence still gnawed at her like an unanswered question at the back of her mind.

The soft thump of Six's feet on the wood flooring became muffled as she trotted onto the rug stretching down the hallway. She followed it, digging in her toes and enjoying the soft sensation. Everything here was eerie. The purple wallpaper, flaking from disuse. The uncanny stillness after the guests' incessant chomping. The pictures, dank and discolored. Six was particularly unnerved by the picture of a single eye looking straight down – seemingly at her. If that eye moves to follow me, I'm throwing something at it, Six thought, edging past. It did not move in its painted socket, and Six let it be.

At the end of the corridor was a wide set of carpeted stairs. About ten steps up led to a large door, which was locked by a padlock when Six inspected it. The little girl let out an irritated snort and turned her face up to the next ten steps, then the landing, and the final steps that led to the next level. The key must be up there somewhere, Six decided, and began to climb.

There were a great many pictures on the walls above the stairs and Six examined them as she ascended. More pictures of eyes – which seemed to be a theme – but also some strange photos of people were in the mix. A boy. A girl. Five humans in a row, the Lady predominant.

Six turned her attention away, pondering what it all could mean. The door at the end of the upper landing was cracked open and Six crept toward it as quietly as a mouse. No sooner had she squeezed inside then a sound reached her ears. The sound of a song being hummed. In another circumstance it might have been a pleasant noise, but here in these drafty chambers it was as unnerving as a chanted ritual. Worse, Six realized she recognized the song. It was the same song that droned in her ears whenever the Hunger struck. This song was the sound of the Lady's magic.

Six froze in the doorway, one hand resting on the door, halfway through the gap. The enchanting, alluring drone of the Lady's humming echoed in her ears, making her feel dizzy. A dread fell suddenly upon the little girl as she realized that she was intruding on the Lady's own personal chamber – her home turf, if you will. And not only was she in the dragon's lair, the dragon was at home, within seeing distance.

Was this worth it? Was any of this worth it?

But then Six's mind flashed back to that padlocked door and resolve overcame her dread. Why exactly she could not tell, but she must – she must – go on. Slowly, softly, Six began to creep forward, letting the song muffle her steps.

Her surroundings as she crept by reminded Six again of a dragon's cave, yet instead of gold and jewels the dragon's hoard consisted of magnificent clothes folded neatly, stacked in tall piles when the overflow from their respective wardrobes and chests became too great. The First Guest said that the Lady had been around for a long time, Six thought as she continued to creep. Perhaps she has a dress for every day she's been alive.

Before she could expand on this thought, Six rounded the corner and came into the closest proximity she had ever been to the Lady. Six automatically stopped as the Lady paused to take in a breath, every sense going on high alert. She could feel every splinter beneath her hands and feet as she crouched, palms to the floor. She couldn't blink even if she tried. Her ears rang with the hiss of indrawn breath. The scent of mothballs and old fabric was unbearable.

Then the Lady hummed again, the sound reverberating through Six's chest, and the little girl found the courage to move again. Something about the song awakened something primal inside of her. Something – for the moment – caged, but yearning wildly to be free. A strong desire to do something rash, reckless, not just because she wanted to, but because she could, free of consequences. There was a strong power inside of her, locked in a secret place, held deep inside, and as Six heard the song she thought she might explode. She trembled, overwhelmed by a powerful desire to seize this unknown power, and had she known where it lay she would have snatched at it without hesitation. But Six did not know. The power was not hers yet, no matter how much her inner heart screamed for it to be hers. No. Until then she would have to wait.

There. The doorframe was passed. The Lady vanished from sight as Six rounded the corner. Six gasped in a breath as if she had been underwater. Had she really not breathed all this time? The Lady's song still echoed hauntingly from the adjoining room, tugging at Six's heartstrings, but she did her best to ignore it, instead turning to the room and scanning it for the key.

This room was a bedroom, far less cluttered than the room Six had just left. There was a stately bed, headboard against the back wall, and a dresser, along with a couple plush chairs, one covered, one not, and a nightstand, but that was all for furniture. For furnishings, a few scant pictures – seeming duplicates of the other ones outside – hung on the walls. A few stood on the floor, covered in an opaque gray cloth. Six could only see the corner of the portrait, but turned away quickly, afraid of what she might see. The wallpaper was lumpy as if there had still been pictures on the walls when it had been laid down. Six could see the edge of a frame beneath the paper's surface.

Besides the pictures, there was one piece of decoration that seemed out of place. On the nightstand next to the bed was a white porcelain jar with the Lady's symbol – an open eye – engraved in blue on the cover. Six climbed on the bed and then to the nightstand to inspect the jar. Her fingers tingled as she put her hands on its smooth side and it crossed her mind that it might be made of the same material that the Lady's mask was. Filled with sudden hate for the familiar object, Six pressed her hands against the jar and sent it flying off the edge with a single sudden heave.

The singing in the adjoining room abruptly stopped.

Six tensed, crouched in a position that would allow her to flee should she find the need, but the Lady never came. Now feeling more anxious than ever and regretting her ill-judged tantrum, Six slipped off the nightstand and waded through the broken bits of crockery to pick up the jar's contents: a large brass key.

Key held tightly against her chest, Six tiptoed to the doorway and peered out. The Lady was gone. Six poked her head out and glanced around to either side as if expecting the Lady to have been hiding behind the doorframe all along. She was not, and Six tentatively set forward, each soft footfall seeming like the beat from a drum, or the beat from an enormous heart.

As quickly as she could, Six exited the room, keeping a harsh eye on each of the mannequins in turn as she passed them. Once in the hallway, she breathed a sigh of relief, seeing the entire splay of the landing and first floor in scant relief and hearing the heavy tick of the grandfather clock beside her break the silence. Feeling a shiver of excitement – or was it dread? – steal over her, Six set off to the mysterious door, thumping down each one of the steps in haste and setting the large key firmly in the lock. It turned almost of its own accord and with a snap, fell open. Six set her hand against the door and with a gentle push sent it swinging open.

It was dark inside. Very dark. Even with Six's lighter stretched out before her as far as her little arms could reach, the oppressive darkness still refused to be beaten back. The open door provided scant light and in its musty glow Six could see various items stored along the sides of the room: dressers overflowing with more clothes, and a variety of broken mirrors, more mannequins, crates, and other oddities. This seemed to be a storage room.

But why was it locked away? Six wondered and took a few steps further in, her lighter held aloft. A musty gust of wind blew past her and the door behind her slammed shut. Six's light went out.

Six could hardly breathe. The fear, which had been pressing in on her since she had come to the Lady's quarters, suddenly overwhelmed her like a tide and she crouched on the floor, feeling as if she was being suffocated in the dark. It took her far too long to realize that she still had her lighter with her, and her shaking fingers slipped several times as she tried to ignite it.

There. Here was light. Six basked in it for a moment, her hands cupped around the tiny flame, fixing her eyes on only that for the time being, afraid that she would raise her eyes to meet the Lady's and that would be the last thing she saw before her life would end.

Quiet, now. Quiet. Deep breaths, now, Six, The little girl coached herself as she gazed deeply into the flame. When she was feeling brave enough again, she raised her head a little to ensure that her surroundings were safe. They were all unchanged. Six's mouth pursed and her brows drew down as she stood. She wasn't afraid of the dark. She had been taken by surprise, but no more. No more.

Six continued further on into the darkened room.

The floorboards were rougher in here than out in the main chamber. The smell of dust rose from the mannequin's garments along with the scent of sawdust and mothballs. It was dry, at least. There was no smell of mold and no indication other than the ever-present rolling sensation that they were on a ship, but even that seemed to be less in the Lady's chambers.

The soft pad of Six's footsteps was all she could hear, but her ears still strained for any hint of motion, eyes peering off into the dark recesses of the room, refusing to be fooled by anything but the truth. It was well that she was so prepared, for no sooner did the swell of motion sound from behind her than the girl was off, head down, lighter cupped close, sprinting faster than she had ever run before. Behind her she could hear the swish of the Lady's dress, the hum of her magic as she glided after her.

It felt as if Six was running through porridge. The long tendrils of black magic were rising like a black mist from the floorboards, reaching out, stretching to grab her, or at the very least to slow her down. Six fought against them, her eyes fixed on a missing drawer on a dresser that left vacant hole – a gap in the barricade that kept her in.

Faster. Faster. Pull against the tide.

With a final desperate slide, Six dove into the gap, pulling through to the other side. She heard a screech behind her as the Lady pulled up short, but her magic swept through the hole like a wave on the beach. Six was overwhelmed in an instant, the darkness soaking into her clothes, her hair, her mouth, her nose. She couldn't hear. She couldn't see. Six continued to run blindly, coughing the magic out of her lungs, swiping with both hands, not caring if the lighter was burning her but only wanting the darkness to GO AWAY!

Six doubled over on the floor, the lighter extinguishing as she was racked with coughs. She knelt, trembling, on the wooden floor before pushing up off it again, forcing herself to continue forward, afraid of what would happen if she should not. Once or twice she looked backward over her shoulder to see if the Lady pursued, but there was no sign of her. Only the sting in her lungs and the fast thump of her heart reminded her that what she had just seen had been true.

Six winded her way through a semi-lit section of the storeroom, lighter still clamped between her two small hands. A flight of stairs rose before her and she took it, each step a stretch for her small legs to reach.

The darkness surrounded Six again as she reached the top of the staircase, raising her lighter above her head and biting her lip with apprehension. This new room was large, swamped in darkness. Another storeroom, it seemed. Only shadowy forms of the Lady's possessions could be seen, puled up along the farthest walls and huddled close to the support beams that disappeared into blackness before they reached the ceiling.

Six felt a tug in her heart that pulled her feet forward into the room, padding softly as her feet met the floorboards. A strange feeling urged her forward, like a rope leading a boat out into the water. Her heart began to thump, excitement filling her and making her feel suddenly as bold as a lion. Her fingers buzzed as she reached the far end of the room, a boarded-up doorway blocking her from what lay beyond. Had it been blocked with stone instead of wood, Six would have chipped at it with her bare hands to see what was hidden inside. As it was, the nails holding the haphazard wooden planks were feeble guards. Six tore them savagely from their place, squeezing through the gap as soon as she were able.

She stood in the room.

The first thing Six noticed was how utterly cold it was here. Just the mere distance of door to room made her feel as if she had stepped from a stuffy overheated house to a freezer. The cold didn't calm her fever, however. Instead, it seemed to stimulate it, forcing the senses of sight and hearing to be even more acute even as it overwhelmed her sense of touch, causing the roughness of the floorboards to numb beneath her toes and her breath to hiss in frosty clouds from her mouth.

Where is it? Where is it?

The question pounded in Six's head, even though she couldn't think of what 'it' might be. All she knew was that she would know it when she saw it. And see it she did.

An oval mirror with a tarnished gold frame lying on a faded pillow, which in turn was set on a low cabinet. Unlike the other mirrors in the room, and any other mirror that Six had seen in the Lady's chambers, this mirror was unbroken. Six climbed up onto the cabinet's surface and knelt beside the mirror, rubbing her hand across its sleek surface to wipe off the thin layer of dust that covered its face. A brief shine showed where her hand had crossed, and Six set the mirror upright against the wall, applying the sleeve of her rain jacket to the rest of the mirror, cleaning it until not a speck of dust remained.

The mirror was almost as large as Six, making the cleaning prosses a difficult, but no less fulfilling, task. It actually felt extremely satisfying to see the grime come off in thick, puffy strips. She wiggled her fingers into the niches in the mirror's frame, trying to make it gleam as it might have once upon a time, but no matter how she tried the frame never shone brighter than the mirror itself.

Once the mirror was clean of dust, Six looked into it, seeing herself clearly for the first time. She wasn't sure she liked what she saw: a scraggly little girl with her hood pulled down low over her face, the glint of eyes hardly visible inside the concealment of the yellow hood. All the marks her adventure had forced on her were clear to see in the exposing surface. Scrapes on her knees from multiple trips and falls. Bruises from throwing herself at the cage to knock it off its perch. Grime on her jacket. Blood on her feet. Sullied hands. But there was something else as well – a certain clamp of her jaw that hadn't been there before. A steel-hard resolve to move forward.

Six felt a chill move up her spine as she looked at this apparition in the glass. The girl she saw was unbending, unrelenting, had gone through too much to turn back now. As she watched, a small, twisted smile twitched the corners of the girl's mouth and she reached up to reassure herself that the expression was true to the one she wore.

Mirrors can be cruel things, because the truth can be cruel, thought Six, picking the mirror up in both hands, lowering it to the ground. She wondered if any of the guests could stand to look in the mirror. If they could stand to see what they had become.

Is that why all the mirrors were broken in this place? Could the Lady not swallow the truth of what she had become? Was the truth that painful to her?

Six extracted the mirror from the room, feeling the air warm as she exited. The mirror was still cold, like a sheet of ice clamped between her fingers. Even though she didn't have a full plan concocted, Six knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this mirror held the answer. It was coming with her.

The feeling that had led her to the mirror now ushered her to stay in the outer room. The Lady's presence was strong, but Six could not see her. Instead, it felt as if she were merely watching, observing what Six might do now that she held the mirror in hand. Six stopped in the center of the room, looking around with brazen calm, all fear suddenly banished. She felt as if she held a magic charm that forbad her to die. An all-in-one good luck charm that would not let her lose. In one swift motion she held up the mirror above her head in a taunt – a challenge that posed the dare, 'come and get me if you think you're able', and a glare that added, 'I'm ready'.

There was a sound like a long, drawn breath. The darkness began to creep in on every side, but Six stood her ground.

"You dare…" the Lady's voice spoke from the darkness like the beginning rumble of thunder. "Insolent child. You dare to come here to my very chambers… to the very center of my home. Have you no shame?"

The voice echoed around Six, and she raised the mirror, peering over its upper lip, in a slow, consistent spin just in case the Lady wanted to make an appearance. Once or twice she thought she saw the flash of a white mask. The darkness was pulsing like a tide kept at bay.

"Brats like you…" hissed the Lady, "…should be taught a lesson."

Suddenly corporeal, the Lady emerged from the darkness, mask shining as pale as a ghost. Six raised the mirror. The Lady's advance faltered. The shine of her mask was mirrored in the glass and the darkness surrounding her flaked like scraps of burning parchment. Six heard a scream like a demon in pain and saw the Lady recoil, her hands to her mask. Then the darkness drew away and Six was alone in the room again.

But not for long. A moment later and the darkness swarmed around her, thicker than ever. Six clenched her teeth together until they hurt, resuming her ready stance.

"You dare defy me?" The Lady's figure swam before Six's eyes, transparent and wild. She seemed to dissolve into mist, shifting, multiplying until Six couldn't tell what she was looking at anymore. She no longer was in the darkness – she was the darkness.

Six spun around, bewildered by the shifting figures as one might be dazzled by light shining through a kaleidoscope. She could feel herself becoming dizzy, the ground seeming to roll beneath her feet with an even greater ferocity than before. She pitched, almost dropping the mirror. The Lady seemed to sense this and all of a sudden the white mask appeared in the swirl of blackness. Six raised the mirror just in time.

Another inhuman screech and a brighter flash than before. The mirror grew hot in Six's hands and she dropped it, tucking her scorched fingers close to her cold raincoat.

But she couldn't rest. Not for long. Not until this was over with. Tentatively, Six picked up the mirror. Its metal frame had cooled once more and she grasped it more firmly, holding it tight against her chest.

The Lady laughed. It was a harsh, cold sound that held no mirth, nasal and jeering. She had dissolved into the darkness once more. "Do you really think you can usurp me?" Six heard the Lady's voice reverberating in her head. "Do you think a shiny piece of glass will do what countless others have tried before? Do you know where they stand now? They all died long ago."

Six thought she saw a flash of white out of the corner of her eye, but it was gone as soon as she turned.

"Foolish mortal child. I took on this mantle knowing full well that others would try and take it from me. Yes, they tried, but with each of their failures I grew stronger. I wrapped myself in power like a man shields himself with armor. I am practically a goddess. And you WILL FEAR ME."

With these words, the Lady appeared again, but Six was ready with the mirror. The blast of power sent the mirror spinning out of her grasp and Six lunged after it, blinded by the flash of light. She could feel the Lady's presence creeping in, her slowly constricting circle of magic tightening like a noose.

Where was the mirror? Where was the mirror?

Six's foot hit against something. She grappled and the mirror was hers once more. Six dove back into the circle of light. The darkness snapped at her heels like hungry wolves, caressing the circle with misty hands.

"Why don't you speak?" the Lady asked, snake's venom in her words. "All the rest had noble speeches prepared for the moment that they would quench me. Some of them waxed quite eloquent. Why not you?"

Six merely tightened her jaw. When the Lady lunged again, she braced herself so that the mirror would not slip again. Even so, she still let it fall after it burned her hands yet again. A quiet hiss of pain was the only sound the Lady would hear from her.

"Do you think you are the chosen one?" the Lady's voice was now only a low rustle, like the rumble of distant thunder. "Do you think you are the sixth? Year after year I toiled to make sure that this never happened. That there would be no heir to this throne. Do you not understand what I have done? What I have become? How much I have sacrificed?" Her tone took a mad crescendo so that it echoed in Six's ears several seconds after it had been voiced. "But no." She was murmuring again. "You are a child." She spat the word. "You do not understand. You would have been better off in the service of my guests. They at least would have made your passing painless."

A whisper of white off to her left. Six raised the mirror, gritting her teeth as the mirror grew hot in her grip. The Lady's power flashed throughout the room and Six skidded to the floor. A pillar met the back of her head and she felt pain.

"But now…" the Lady loomed before her in all her terror and beauty, "you have chosen the path of absolute destruction."

Why was it so hard to move? Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Farewell, mortal child."

But as the Lady leaned her burning gaze toward her, Six's hand rested on the mirror. For an instant it seemed as if all creation held its breath, allowing her to move the fragile piece of glass between herself and the Lady. Everything moved so slowly. She could see everything so clearly. The mask, gleaming brightly in the dark. The Lady's eyes, illuminated in that light, widening just slightly as the mask that shielded that face began to shatter. The sound of cracking glass pierced the air.

Then everything went far more quickly than normal as creation exhaled again, making a noise like a scream, and Six felt as if a hurricane had decided to pick her up and throw her to the ground. She covered her face, because shards of mirror and mask were falling like sharpened raindrops from the heavens and all around her she could hear the screeching wail of a woman bereft of everything precious. The noise, the pain, and the chaos seemed to last forever.

And then it stopped.

Then everything…

…Stopped.

A/N: I'm back, baby! Wow, that writer's block was hard to shake, but here's another chapter for you. There will be one final chapter (which I've already written, actually) but I won't be posting it for a few days to whet your appetite. Thanks so much for your patience!