Cute, even.
A laugh bubbled in my throat. “You must be the snatchkins. Hardly terrifying.”
They crept closer, their heads tilted, bare feet silent on the grass. One of them cooed, birdlike, and another clapped its hands together in delight.
“You’re good little guys, aren’t you? We’re going to be friends, right?”
They watched me with their round eyes. I stepped closer, and the nearest one grinned.
Dear Lord.
My blood turned to ice.
Its mouth split too wide, jaw unhinging, revealing rows of long, jagged, blackened teeth, each glistening like wet coal. The others followed, their mouths grotesque and ever widening. The innocent blinking eyes narrowed into slits.
And then they charged.
I turned and ran for the tower—but one darted ahead and cut me off. Another skittered along the ground on all fours, reaching for my ankles with its claws.
I stumbled back toward the clearing, heart pounding, and my boot skidded on a mirror shard. It flipped into the air, catching the dim light.
The nearest snatchkin flinched. Screeched.
It tumbled backward, clawed hands covering its face. Where the shard had reflected its twisted grin, its skin had sizzled like wet parchment on fire.
Mirrors.
I stared down at the shard, breath caught. Oh! I understood now. That’s why there were so many!
Of course.
The tower was ringed in mirrors for a reason.
“Don’t grin after dark, or the grinters will come.”
I grabbed a larger shard from the ground and turned it toward the advancing horde. The light bounced off its cracked surface and they recoiled in a skittering panic, wailing like broken wind-up toys. One swiped at me, but I flashed the shard in its face. It shrieked—and crumbled into a shimmer of dust and bone.
They weren’t only afraid of their reflections.
They were banished by them.
I didn’t hesitate. I gathered as many mirror shards as I could, and jammed them into the soft earth in a wide arc around the tower’s entrance, angling them outward. With each piece angled right, I created a wall of gleaming eyes.
The snatchkins hissed from the shadows. Tiny hands reached out but never crossed the light.
They couldn’t stand to see themselves.
I was breathless but grinning. “Take a good look. Ugly little bastards.”
I lined up more mirrors in a complete circle around the tower, my heart pounding, palms bleeding where I’d gripped the shards. I looked around. Relief nearly brought me to my knees.
We were safe. The shards were holding.
And then—clap, clap, clap.
I spun. Emrys stood in the doorway, bare-chested and insufferable, looking as if he hadn’t been half-dead an hour ago. Applauding me every time I got nearly killed was turning into an annoying habit of his.
“I see you figured it out, little thief.” He smiled so smugly that I suddenly had the desire to slap him.
