Book Six: Chapter 90

Santa shrugged, then took his hands off the glass. He didn’t speak, nor did he make any attempt to justify himself. Instead, he pulled a chair from somewhere just outside the mirror’s edge and set it down with a soft scrape against the floor. With a slow wink, he sat and patted his knee, inviting Jack to join him, as though he were a mischievous grandfather coaxing a child to confide their wishes. The gesture, casual and lighthearted, was somehow infuriating in the tension of the room.

Jack ignored him, pacing the cold, mirrored chamber. Her boots echoed lightly against the polished floor as she tried to gather her thoughts. She had come down here when the Krampus had been trapped inside the mirror, the demon whispering in her mind as the fog swirled around him. Back then, the room had seemed oppressive, a prison carved from ice and mist. Now, though, the fog hung low and slow, drifting across the mirror’s surface, sometime