Indexing: Reflections (Kindle Serials) (Indexing Series Book 2) by Seanan McGuire Page A

team. Andy and Jeff were staring at me. Demi was covering her mouth with one hand, but not quite managing to hide her smile.
    “Come on,” I said. “Sloane may have murdered a bunch of people by now, and I don’t want to deal with the paperwork.”
    The feeling of compulsive calm closed around us again as we walked, stronger than before. I slipped my hand into my pocket and clutched the crystal spire so hard I could feel it bite into my skin. That made the pressure a little easier to bear. At least there weren’t any maggots in my brain. Not yet, anyway. There was no telling what the prison was going to throw at us next.
    The sound of shouting drifted down the hall. One of the voices—the loudest, angriest voice—was Sloane’s. The others were unfamiliar, and I didn’t know if they were fighting with her, or if she was the reason they were making so much noise.
    “Move,” I snapped, and broke into a run. My team ran with me.
    We came around the final corner to find Sloane, now wearing a crystal-beaded ball gown and elbow-length gloves, slamming the face of a man in full livery against the prison wall. He was struggling, trying to grab hold of her as she battered him. He was also not completely human: large mouse ears topped his head, and a pink tail hung from the seat of his pants. Three more of the mouse-men were down, one with a hole in the middle of his chest that could probably be ascribed to the guard who was backed against the opposing wall, eyes wide and service weapon trembling in his hands. Several of the cell doors were open, making it impossible to tell whether we were dealing with more than one escapee.
    “Mouse footmen,” I said, voice somewhere between a whisper and a sigh. Cinderella’s story wasn’t mine, wasn’t even a close cousin, but I knew the trappings, and a corner of my treacherous princess heart yearned for them every night when I closed my eyes. “Fuck. Watch out for pumpkins.”
    “What?” said Andy.
    “Got it,” said Jeff.
    “I don’t know what to do,” said Demi. She looked from the fight to me, eyes wide. “What do I do?”
    For once, I had an easy answer. “The narrative has them, and it’s turning them into things it can use, but it didn’t count on you, did it?” I leaned closer, like that could keep the looming story from guessing what was about to happen, and whispered, “They’re still rodents.”
    Demi lit up like happy ever after. “Cover your ears,” she said, and pulled out her flute.
    “Sloane!” I shouted, clapping my hands over my ears as instructed. “Get some quiet!”
    Sloane glanced my way, startled. Then she nodded and slammed her mouse-man against the wall harder than ever, so hard that he stopped fighting back and collapsed at her feet when she released his collar. She put the heels of her hands over her ears and took a step backward, skirts swishing.
    It wasn’t just her, I realized. All three guards were now wearing fancier versions of their uniforms, with gold brocade around the shoulders and cuffs, and diamond buttons in place of their previous brass. Somehow, whatever route Elise had used to escape, she had left her stolen story behind—and it was on the attack.
    And I’d walked straight into it. The realization was almost sickening. This was a princess story, and like it or not, I was a princess. If Demi couldn’t pipe it away, we might have a problem.
    The first note of Demi’s rat-charming song trilled through the air, high and pure and only slightly muffled by my hands. That little bit of protection was enough: I didn’t feel any urge to start dancing. The mouse-men weren’t so lucky. All the ones who weren’t dead or unconscious started to waltz, first toward Demi, and then toward the door to an open cell. She took a step forward, upping the tempo, and their dance turned frantic, the mouse-men all but falling over one another in their hurry to get into the cell. More of them kept appearing, either from farther down the hall