So much for his powers of observation. He frowned at it, focusing his will to make it disappear. Unconsciously, he lifted his wand. The pimple ripened to a deeper shade of crimson and began to blister. He almost dropped the wand in a panic and tried desperately to reverse his train of thought. But it was too late! The pimple continued to fester.

Contamination! No! This couldn’t be happening. He had messed up royally! He continued to stare helplessly, and at first didn’t notice the subtle change in the grime on the rest of the mirror. Gradually the images in the haze moved into his field of vision—and Henry realized he was witnessing a scene taking place far, far away.

Two people were driving in a car, an ugly vulture perched on the console between the seats. Henry seemed to be watching from the car’s rearview mirror. The two people faced each other, arguing. The passenger was a heavy man with skin too white and a face marred by a large birthmark. He appeared to be shouting, but Henry couldn’t hear any sound.

He sensed … evil. It coalesced into an angry red aura that surrounded the mirror. Henry was frightened but could not take his eyes away.

Finally, the driver thought wiser of his actions and turned away from the passenger. His eyes casually glanced at the rearview mirror, then at the road, but quickly stared back into the mirror. It was as if the driver could sense him watching. Then the driver smiled at him—a horrible, cruel smile—and Henry cried aloud.

The sound broke the connection. Henry startled, splashing water all over the front of his pants, and fell heavily onto the toilet seat, gasping for breath. It couldn’t be! Then a tiny scratching at the door made him jump, bringing him back to the moment.

“Henry,” a small voice whispered. “Are you in there? I have to go!”

“Just a minute.” Henry took several deep breaths to compose himself, then took one last look in the mirror to make sure the images were gone. The memory of what he had seen rushed back, but the mirror was clear. And even more remarkably, so was his face. The pimple had vanished.

He opened the door a crack and Brianna rushed in. “Turn around, Henry, and don’t look,” she said testily. Seconds later she tapped at his foot. “Okay, I’m done.” He saw the small wet spot she’d left behind in the corner—right where his wand had fallen.

An involuntary shiver reminded him of the contamination. He knew he was going to have to tell Coralis and face the repercussions.

Brianna giggled. “Henry, you wet your pants.”