It felt like swimming through cold oil. It was awful and it seeped into every part of you. Then the oil was full of broken glass and it jabbed and it scratched and then they were out, suddenly standing at the bottom of another pit. This one was also scattered with mirror pieces. It also had a foot or two of water running through part of it.

Lorelei stood frozen in a state of fury. She could not afford to act on her emotions right now. If she melted all of Mr. Black’s bones, she’d have to carry Esme herself, after all. If she tied every nerve ending he had into knots, he’d scream his throat bloody, and that would bring undue attention to them both. If she filled his lungs with live baby eels, the gurgling would get tiresome.

As it was, she turned to lash him with her glare and told him quite calmly that if he ever did that again, his suffering would be a thing even Hell stood silent for. He wasn’t even looking at her. His attention was on a pile of rags and bones on the floor. There was an ornate knife handle sticking out of it, and the dim sparkle of something blue on one of the bones.

“It’s Messalina,” he said softly. “That’s her ring. I wondered why her ghost wasn’t wearing it. No wonder she didn’t want to come. He must’ve killed her and thrown the body down here with the bad mirrors.”

“Then, Esme was either thrown down here too, or she jumped,” Lorelei said. “Only she hit the mirror and went somewhere else.”

“How are we going to climb out of here?” he wondered aloud. “I guess we will have to go back through the waterways. What’s wrong?” He had turned to see her rubbing her temples.

“Something knocking in my head,” she said. She started to say something else then stopped. “I’m ready to go home.”

“We still have the cloak.” Sirius said. “We can levitate up, look around and see how far we are from a way out. If it looks unlikely, we come back down here and backtrack through the waterways until we get to the pump again.”

“And all your plans have been such glowing successes so far,” she grouched, rubbing between her eyebrows now.

“I think it’s going beautifully,” he told her. “We got in, found Esme, and are now on the way out. We haven’t seen or been seen by any vampires the whole time.”

“Time,” echoed Lorelei. “What time is it now?” She looked suddenly terrified. “How long have we been underground? Has the sun gone down yet??”

“I don’t know…” Sirius admitted. “My God, there’s no telling then!” She clutched her head as if it would break in her hands. “Let’s Apparate! Right now! We’re out of the chamber! Let’s just go!”

“Easy,” Sirius said. “I don’t think I can. I’m tired, Ms. Zephyr. And I would be Apparating someone nearly my own size. If you want to go ahead, go on. I’ll use the cloak to get out.” Lorelei hesitated. He could see the moment of indecision flicker over her. She was desperate to get away from this place, but reluctant to leave what she had come for.

“I-“ she began, but then something occurred to her. “I might…” She looked around her, at the water and the glass and the bones and the knife. “I might be able to make our own mirror…” It was almost a whisper.

“How?” asked Sirius, not sure he liked the way her eyes lingered on what remained of Messalina’s body.

“My great-aunt taught me the things you can make from the blood of the slain and the weapon that shed it,” her voice was suddenly distant, her eyes focused on something else.

“That sounds like Dark Magic to me,” Sirius eyed her warily. She blinked and then focused on him.

“Do you really think Messalina would mind?” she asked.

“It doesn’t feel right to me,” he still protested.

“Desperate deeds for desperate days,” she said calmly, and he couldn’t help but snort.

“The only desperation here is yours,” he told her. “Surely you can think of something better than grave-robbing.”

“Surely,” hissed a new voice. “Miss won’t stand for such rudeness.” Sirius and Lorelei, still beneath the cloak, both froze. “Surely,” it continued. “Sir was better brought up than this.” They were silent, staring at each other. There was no sign of the speaker in the darkness. There wasn’t room for anything to be hiding anywhere with them. The voice sounded familiar to Sirius, and standing in a pool of broken fragments and staring at the blue stone gleaming in the sad remains, it came back to him.

“You’re one of the Nalicus house elves,” he said. There was a silence again. Lorelei’s heart was pounding hard in her temples, but she had stopped breathing, perhaps waiting for the voice to speak again. “Is Gilles still alive?”

“Sir should know better,” the voice replied, the sibilance fading. “Nothing here is as it was.”

“Where are you?”

“Trapped as Sir is,” it went on. “Only more so.”

“Where? I don’t see you..”

“I can’t see Sir or Miss either, but I can hear them.”

“Are you in one of the mirrors?” Lorelei ventured. “Watching us from somewhere?”

“Miss is quite clever. Trapped I am and in the mirror, too.” Lorelei lifted the edge of the cloak a little to look around more carefully. Esme was beginning to get a little heavy, or maybe Sirius’ arms were getting a little tired. He shifted her carefully and stepped close to Lorelei again so they could stay covered. She stooped to pick something up and Sirius leaned over to see it too.

It was a small mirror, no bigger than a saucer, and as far as they could see, intact. Peering from its surface was the face of a house elf. It was old and feeble-looking and had no body attached.

“Who are you?” Lorelei asked it.

“Retchett,” the elf said. “Once in service to the House of Nalicus. I served the lord of the house until my death, and then was placed here.”

“In the mirror?” Sirius asked. “Why not on the wall?”

“The master was never a wasteful one,” Retchett said. “In the mirror, I was hung in her ladyship’s chambers. When she learned of this, I was thrown down here.”

“Lord Nalicus spied on his wife?” Lorelei seemed puzzled by this. Sirius hadn’t thought she’d be that naïve and said so. “The House of Zephyr didn’t have intrigue then?” he asked. He glared at him over her shoulder.

“Intrigue?” she echoed. “You weren’t allowed in the house at all if you weren’t trusted. Father had to build a special ‘waiting room’ onto the house for all the guests that my grandfather wouldn’t let through the door. There was no intrigue. There was ‘us’ and there was ‘them’.”

“Who was allowed in then?” Sirius asked, remembering his mother’s painting with a wince. “Only direct bloodkin? Certain pedigrees?”

“My grandfather,” she said. “Was territorial. He was also brutally honest. If he had caught my father spying on his daughter-in-law he would’ve spit lightning that any child of his would be so sneaky. He likes a straight-on fight. Eye to eye, nose to nose, tooth to jugular.”

“What would he think of us then?” Sirius asked. “Creeping around someone else’s house with an invisibility cloak?”

“He’d be angry,” Lorelei said. “But only that he wasn’t called to take care of the matter before it came to this.”

“What would he do in a situation like this?”

“He’d kick down the front door and bellow into the house for anyone to come out and face him,” a fond smile touched Lorelei’s face. “And then he’d storm through room to room until he found someone to answer him.”

“And what would he tell us to do?” Sirius went on. She gave him a look that was more annoyed than wrathful.

“I know what you’re getting at,” she said. “Do you really think the two of us can fight our way through the horde of vampires the boys say they saw here? While carrying Esme. Honestly, now.”

“Retchett,” he said, turning to look into the small mirror. “Can you see into other mirrors here? Through the house.”

“Only one,” the old elf said. “In the master’s study.”

“Are there windows? Can you tell us if the sun is still up?” Retchett paused, seeming unwilling to humor them, then he faded from sight, only to appear again a moment later. It was probably the first task he’d had to do in years, Sirius figured. Something to do was something to do, even if it was at the request of ill-mannered strangers.

“The sun is low,” the old elf said. “The sky is red and gold.”

“We can still make it before it sets,” Sirius said before Lorelei could say anything. “Up and out before anyone knows.”

“All right, all right,” she steeled herself. “Retchett, would you like to come with us? We can put your mirror wherever you would like to be.”

“Oh,” he seemed taken aback by that. “The Miss is so kind! Could Retchett be left in the front hall, so Retchett can see who comes and goes?”

“If it’s on the way!” Sirius slid Esme back to the crook of his elbows so he could grab Lorelei’s arms. She slid the mirror under her belt and took his shoulder in one hand and a fistful of the cloak in her other. She cast a levitation spell and they floated upwards.

It was a circular room with no windows they found themselves in. There was a collection of knickknacks covering every surface here, and they were all covered in inches of dust. A despairing sound came from Retchett at the mess. They hurried to the door and peeked out into the hallway.

Sirius noticed that being invisible didn’t stop them from leaving footprints in the dust. He decided not to call Lorelei’s attention to it. She was frazzled enough. She might just balk and refuse to move again. They ran on through the house, with Retchett guiding them when they couldn’t tell which way to go. Finally, they started down a staircase that led straight into the front hall.

“Thank goodness!” Lorelei ducked out from under the cloak and took Retchett’s mirror to set it on a small table facing the door. “And thank you, Retchett!”

“Just doing the job Retchett was given,” the elf said happily. She ran to the door and pulled it open and gasped. Night had fallen. Behind her, Sirius saw where the moon was and knew that it was closer to midnight than sunset. The elf had lied.

“Master!” Retchett’s voice rose behind them in a banshee’s wail. “Master! Guests at the door!” And then the hall behind them was full of shapes. Still under the cloak, Sirius saw the gleam of their eyes before he made out the rest of them. They were all dressed in darkest black or purest white. Their eyes were the only color in them. Most of them had livid green or yellow eyes shining in fish-belly white faces. There were a few with eyes as pink as a lab rat’s, and some had eyes as toxically orange as the Morthahg. Only one had red eyes. And the small crowd of creatures parted for him, though he never seemed to move. Despite his lack of motion, he appeared to be suddenly closer than before.

Brohm, thought Sirius immediately. He was in a new and younger body, but still with the same ancient, arrogant eyes. Lorelei stood frozen, staring at him, with eyes as red as his. His new form was young and handsome, dark-haired and sharp-featured. The patch of white hair had faded into the young body’s bangs as well.

He looked like a Nalicus, Sirius realized. That was probably why Retchett had served him. Messalina’s pretty sister had married away from her family. She had probably had children. Most likely, Gilles would have had no trouble in bringing one of his nephews to the old homeplace, to be served up to the vampires. Sirius hoped Gilles had died slowly.

Brohm smiled and Lorelei seemed to remember how to breathe again. He held out a hand to her, as if he meant to stroke her cheek. Sirius tensed to do something. He had no idea what. He was standing under an invisibility cloak with an unconscious vampire hunter in a room full of vampires who could probably hear every beat of his heart. He had no plan and no weapons.

Then, two things happened. The white pouch Lorelei wore around her neck leaped for the vampire before he could touch her. In midair it changed, becoming huge, furry, and snarling. It was North, and he tore into Brohm with a howl. Lorelei burst into movement, grabbing wildly at Sirius and catching his arm, and yanking him toward the door.