Arletta moved quiet as a mouse, listening to the soft
whisper of voices elsewhere in the house.
A thief by trade, she held the stolen box of magic tightly and barely
paused as she stepped into the mirror.
Colors swirled as the world changed.
She walked. Count the
steps, Michel had said. One hundred
steps for one hundred days. She had
practiced but it wasn't the same as being here.
Don't lose count!
She stopped.
"Michel!"
He found her, took the box, and led her to safety. One hundred days before the demons
came. They could stop them this time.
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