The name struck a chord, sent the stars to shivering with delight even as the moon itself seemed to increase the brilliant sheen of her light in silent anticipation. Could it possibly be that the one the world had known in the confines of the carnival could be Krysanthe?



Mirror stared awe-struck upon the lithe beauty of a girl even as the fey-slender legs of Poppet brought her ever closer to Mirror.



“It is you, is it not?”



The whimsy of a dream lilted and wrapped its way through the dancing words of the crimson haired girl as the Enigma behind her smiled with the awareness of the knowledgeable. The I told you so smile of a cat swallowing a canary whole was the look the dark born one wore as she looked upon the light born. Mirror had no choice. The illusion dropped, falling to pieces like shattered glass.



The lack of sound of a broken mirror had Poppet shivering as she waited for a response when a looking glass cracking would not provide a shriek or cry.



“Yes.”



Gone were the eyes of golden illusion to leave the celestial blue depths so well known of the Valendria witch. Pale wheat of hair became that of star dust and dreams, and the skin of gold softened to the moon dust sheen of moonstone.



“There in is the truth I was waiting for. If you will excuse me, my life does call.”



A hint of a smile smooth as the stroke of a raven’s wing tucked itself upon the lips of the Enigma that Krysanthe knew as Spade as she made her departure.



The Poppet and the Mirror were left alone.



“So you know then. My name was once Arianrhod Baine to become Mirror and then to take the true namesake of Krysanthe when I became one of the Sisters.”



“The Valendrias.”

“Yes lovely, as you are, as you once were, as you will be.”



Poppet offered the mischief of her smile then as she shook her head, holding still that whim of a secret within the depths of her eyes. Krysanthe could only look on transfixed as the shades of emerald green rippled and trickled into ocean blue only then to become the sweetest mating of earth and sky, land and sea.



“No. I think not. Maybe once. Long ago. But not today. Or tonight. Or ever again.”

“And why is that, dear Poppet.”



There the sprite shining twinkle in her mismatched eyes as the Poppet looked upon the Mirror Lady of Moon and Stars.



“Because I tied a ribbon around the wishing tree… and I will wait. My love has not faded, nor will it wilt or die. He will come.”

“Is that so?”

“Quite so. He will come if I but believe it to be. Just like your Remedy. It is meant to be.”



Krysanthe’s lips parted to voice a response but she found herself unwilling to utter a reply. It seemed that the woman of Smoke and Fog would save them both for the undercurrents of uncomfortable stories as she made her presence known.