Kingdom of the Wicked

“I know,” he said. “You’re impressed. You send me out for bread and I come back with a boy. Well, not literally. That would be weird. Even for me.”

“Dad,” Valkyrie coughed, “what did you do?”

“I met Tommy Boyle in the shop,” he said. “You know Tommy Boyle, don’t you? About my age? A little smaller than me, with sandy-coloured hair? He always wears these polo shirts. You know him, you do. You’ve seen him around. He’s from Navan originally, so he has this real Navan accent when he speaks. He’s married to that woman with the brown hair, who always wears those shoes. You know him.”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“No, you do,” her dad insisted. “He’s got sandy-coloured hair.”

“Dad, I don’t.”

“You do. I don’t know how else to describe him. Melissa, how would you describe him?”

Valkyrie’s mum fed another spoonful to Alice. “He’s only got one arm.”

“Oh, yeah, the arm thing.”

Valkyrie stared. “Why couldn’t you have started with that? Wouldn’t that be the most obvious characteristic?”

Her dad looked confused. “But his hair is really sandy, and he always wears those polo shirts. He’s always in them, no matter the weather.”

She sat back in her chair. “Right, so that’s Tommy Boyle. I’ve seen him around town. So what? What’s that got to do with a boyfriend?”

“His son. His name is Aaron. Very nice lad. He’s your age. Tommy was saying that Aaron’s never had a girlfriend, and I said he should go out with you, so Tommy’s bringing him over to introduce you.”

“Oh, Desmond,” Valkyrie’s mum said. “Oh, Desmond, no.”

“What? What’s wrong? We’re just introducing them, not arranging their marriage. They might like each other.”

“Get on the phone,” Valkyrie said, “and tell him you’re calling it off.”

“I can’t do that, Steph. It’d be rude. Just meet the boy. Have a chat. No pressure.”

“Lots of pressure, Dad! Loads of pressure! I can’t believe you did that!”

He folded his arms. “I don’t see what you’re both getting so upset about. I thought you’d be happy. You haven’t had a boyfriend since Fletcher, so any day now you were going to walk in with this strange fella on your arm and say, Hey, Dad, hey, Mum, this is my new boyfriend. And then we’d have to get to know him and get used to him, and figure out if he’s a good sort. Who knows what kind of lad you’d bring back to us? Fletcher was older than you so the next one would probably be older still, and have tattoos or piercings or ride a motorbike or something. I don’t want you going out with someone in their twenties. You’re too young for that. I’ve met Aaron Boyle and he’s a nice lad, Stephanie. He’s quiet and polite and he’s the sort of boy I wouldn’t have to worry about, because with all your self-defence stuff you’d probably be able to break him in two.”

“Call Tommy,” Valkyrie said, “and cancel it.”

“Ah, Steph …”

“Des,” her mum said, “I know that you’re doing this because you love Stephanie and you want all her boyfriends to treat her with respect, but that isn’t up to us. We just have to trust our daughter to be a good judge of character.”

An image of Caelan popped into Valkyrie’s head and she beat it back with a big mental stick.

“But Aaron’s a lovely guy,” her dad whined. “And I can’t call Tommy. I just can’t. I don’t know his number.”

“I’m not talking to you until this is cancelled,” Valkyrie told him, and went back to eating cereal.

Her father sagged. “But what if I go over there and Aaron answers the door? Then I’ll have to tell him that my beautiful daughter wants nothing to do with him. Something like that, it’d crush a fragile soul like his.”

“You should have thought about that when you arranged this whole thing,” said Melissa. “And until it’s done, I’m not talking to you, either.”

He looked at his wife with big imploring eyes, but she ignored him and focused her attention on Alice. Up to that point, Valkyrie’s sister had been gurgling away quietly, but even she stopped talking. That was the final straw. Valkyrie’s dad got up.

And then the doorbell rang.

“No,” Valkyrie said.

“Ah,” said her dad, checking his watch. “He’s a bit early.”

Valkyrie jumped to her feet. “You told them to call round this morning?”

“Tommy’s got things to do this afternoon. I thought it’d be best. What do you want me to do? Will I tell them to go away?”

“Yes! Tell them I’ve gone horse-riding, or something.”

“You haven’t ridden a horse in years.”

“They don’t know that!”

“Aaron will be very disappointed.”

“Dad!”

He went to the front door. Valkyrie heard a murmured conversation, then her dad returned to the kitchen table. “Well, I hope you’re happy,” he said. “I’ve just turned away a boy and his father and they both looked very disappointed.”

“Well, that couldn’t be helped. Did you tell them I was horse-riding?”

“No, I couldn’t find a way to make that believable. I just told them you had diarrhoea.”

Valkyrie closed her eyes. “Mum?”

“Yes, Steph?”

“Kill him for me, will you?”

“With pleasure, dear.”

Valkyrie went upstairs. She checked for messages on her phone, then took a shower. She stood under the spray and closed her eyes. It had been twelve months since she’d split up with Fletcher – a split that hadn’t exactly broken her heart, since she’d been the one who’d dumped him. In the weeks that followed, however, she’d been surprised to realise she missed him. She missed the obvious things about having a boyfriend, naturally, but more than that, she missed the friendship he brought.

It was around that time, though, that the reflection had stopped malfunctioning and started behaving the way it should, and Valkyrie began to see other advantages to its continued existence. One of these advantages was simply having someone to talk to, someone she didn’t have to hide anything from. Someone she couldn’t hide anything from. It was liberating, in a way.

It could also be disturbing. There were things Valkyrie didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to talk about or even admit to herself. Things like Darquesse, and how good it felt to let her take control. But the reflection had no sense of shame, and so it spoke without fear until Valkyrie told it to shut up. Which it did, immediately and without any feelings to hurt.

Valkyrie dried herself off, walked to her room with her dressing gown bunched in her hand while her mother continued to scold her father downstairs, and touched the mirror. The reflection stepped out, smiling. Valkyrie knew it wasn’t a real smile, that the reflection wasn’t actually amused, but it was doing what it was made to do, pretending, and so she didn’t mind that much.

“Poor you,” the reflection said. “What is your dad like?”