They were lead through multiple winding staircases, and came out at last into a great hall with a large stone arch. The mute child gestured politely at them, but the girl did not understand what he meant.

The boy heard someone approaching who sounded like wind rustling through roses on a morning field. In the next moment a young woman with flowers in her hair rounded the corner, all nods and smiles.

“Oh, we are so glad you’re here!” she said. “Always so wonderful to meet more survivors.”

The mute child pointed at them, made two o-shapes with his index and thumbs and connected them, and patted his shoulders. He then engaged in a chain of quick gestures that the girl could not follow.

“Yes, yes,” said the woman, nodding. “I see. Come along now,” she said, beckoning to the girl and the boy.

They fell into step behind her.

“So you are from the island also,” she said.

The boy nodded.

“Do you know of a mirror that grants wishes?” asked the girl.

The woman furrowed her brows. “No, I don’t believe I do,” she said. “But you two can meet with the leader first thing tomorrow.”

“Does he know of a mirror that grants wishes?” asked the girl.

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“He will have answers for you,” said the woman.

They came to a long stone corridor and a deep birch door, and the woman opened it with a flourish.

“Welcome to your room!” she said.

The room was beautiful. In the center was a large bed with velvet pillows and a white veil draped over it. Beside it stood a delicately carved dresser and a mirror as large as the door, and in the corner sat an old oak writing desk with scrolls and several quill pens. The girl stepped in, slowly, but the boy frowned.

Past the deep rectangular hum of the door, he heard nothing.

“What is this?” he said.

The girl put a hand on the cool stone walls, feeling the familiar thrum of energy, energy that she could not cross.

“This is like where I lived before,” she said softly.

“It will prevent harm from coming to those beyond the room,” said the woman. “You come along now," she said to the boy.

“I'm staying with her,” said the boy.

“Hon,” said the woman, “I’m afraid that’s far too dangerous.”

“She won’t harm me,” said the boy.

“Oh, I’m sure she would never intend to,” said the woman, “but you must understand, her manifestations are external, so it’s for her own good. Besides, don’t you want to catch up with your friend?”

The boy hesitated. He tilted his head, listening for signs of discord and darkness, but heard only the rustling of roses and the peaceful song of a choir.

“You’ll see each other tomorrow,” said the woman. She smiled at the girl. “It must have been difficult, living like that,” she said, “but you're safe now. We can help you be just like everyone else.”

The boy hesitated a moment longer, but left in the end.

The girl sat alone on her lush, beautiful bed, in the vast stone room with no windows. Where she had grown up, there was a large skylight cut into the pristine white corridor outside the cage, and she had loved it when moonlight streamed past the silver bars to cast long shadows on her nest.

Back then, she had been told repeatedly that she lived in a silver cage because she was special, and special people lived in a special place.

This was the first time that she had been told a place might make her just like everybody else.