Then Barclay realized it. The Beast was invisible.

Except for its reflection.

Barclay’s heart raced as he struggled underneath the Beast’s boot, but he didn’t need to get up in order to defend himself. He stretched his other arm up, to where the Beast stood over him.

Wind!

When the vortex came, it looked as though he had attacked nothing. However, the Ethel-looking Beast in the mirror writhed. He’d been right—it wasn’t in the mirror with her. It was really out here, with him.

Once the Beast had been struck down, the mirror disappeared, and the real Ethel stumbled onto the field. She raised her hands, still out of breath, and called, “I forfeit! The match is over!”

Barclay called off the wind, and Ethel ran to take care of her Beast.

“You can only see it with a mirror,” Barclay said with surprise.

“It’s called a Doppelgheist. I’m surprised you figured it out so quickly. Most people don’t.” Her voice was tight, and Barclay hoped she wasn’t angry with him. But then she turned to him and smiled. “You know, you’d make a great Lore Keeper, Barclay. If you wanted to be one.”

Barclay’s own smile faded.

“I don’t want to be one. So just… just stop. You can all stop.”

He grabbed his scarf off the ground and stormed away, hoping to hide the telltale flush in his cheeks.

Viola must’ve heeded Barclay’s words, because she didn’t leave that evening. Instead, she stowed A Traveler’s Log away in her bag and rented a table for their friends. A rusty chimenea crackled with fire behind the four of them, casting a comfortable warmth beneath the tent alongside the exam field, where much of Sycomore had gathered for the Exhibition and holiday celebrations. On each table stood large glass jars filled with fireflylike Beasts called Zaplings, which Mitzi poked and snarled at. Chandeliers of evergreen branches hung overhead, drooping with garlands of cranberries and ornaments of twine and cinnamon sticks.

For the first time, Barclay was aware of Ethel’s and Abel’s Doppelgheists out of their Marks. The grass beside the table was dented where they sat, a bowl hovering midair in their invisible grasps as they devoured maple-flavored Beast treats.

It made him feel guilty that Root wasn’t joining them, but Barclay only had one more match separating him and first place. He couldn’t afford to question his decision now.

“I mean, you’re my friend,” Abel said, slapping Barclay on the back so hard, he choked on his sip of pear cider. “But now I don’t just want you to win. I need you to win. If Tadg gets first in the Exhibition, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Ethel asked, arching her eyebrows.

“I’ll jump into a mirror and never come back,” Abel declared miserably. When Barclay gave him a horrified look, Abel laughed. “It’s not bad in there. I call it the mirror world. Lots of glittery reflected light. I can travel nearly anywhere I want in barely any time, so long as there’s a mirror to jump out of. Quite nice, really—”