"Five hundred years? Gosh, I can't imagine what he's so cranky about. Is he after just you, or is he a free form mayhem kind of guy?"

"Good question, Penny. I'm not staying around if he's after you personally, Miracleman, old buddy- no point in dying senselessly even with you," insert patented twisted grin here "but if he's free-form, I want to be with a few other magic workers."

I pat my pocket. I feel the need of a little comfort.

"He's, um...both, really. Free form, but if I'm killed along the way it's frosting on his cake. I think."

I ponder a second. "Or is it 'cream filling in his Ding-Dong'? 'Frosting on his cinammon muffin'? 'Marmalade on his toast'?"

"Butter on his scone?" I suggest, helpfully.

I'm sure I put the teaddy bear in my pocket before I left the house this morning.

//Dagfari? Is Edward at home?//

"Okay. Aeschma's a big bad, and chances are he knows about all of us here. One the plus side, I'm pretty sure my evil self is gone, and Miracleman took care of his bad side, and so far we've been able to cope with the jello and whatnot. On the other hand, Knut is missing, or maybe Knuts are missing, I have Instagolem who are chock full of evil dessert, and every time we open the door, all hell breaks loose."

I catch something with my peripheral vision. I hope it's not what I think it is.

"Also, Miracleman? I think you might have an infestation of some kind. I just saw something escape through the mail slot."

I start wandering back to Goblin Market, lugging two enormous bags of thrift store shopping goodies. When my evil twin vanished in a puff of clove cigarette-scented smoke, she left her half of the loot behind. I have no qualms about appropriating it.

I keep an eye out for one of the horse-drawn cabs that are turn up every now and then, because my feet hurt and I don't want to walk all the way home. As I'm scanning the street, a terrifying thought occurs to me - what if Pete got an evil twin? How would I tell?

I shake my head and keep walking. When I get home, I have to figure out what to do about Clovis' gremlin minions, and decide how to market those InstaGolem things.

Ugh. I'm not getting any sensible answers, and I'm freaking hungry. Maybe we can have some kind of summit meeting later, after I do something about my low blood sugar. Everyone seems so distracted, what with the vermin and the jello and the house moving around.

Also, I have got to find Knut. He's out there, maybe all bifurcated and weird. I'd feel awful if something happened.

Just then, an idea pops into my brain from out of nowhere, like I'm being paged by my own subconscious. Inspiration.

"Guys, I have to go to Goblin Market, and I have to eat before I fall over. Can you call me tomorrow? We can work on some kind of plan, maybe."

Hector and Am-Chau wave me away. Aimee and Miracleman are having some kind of discussion about housecleaning and chocolate cake. Nothing appears ready to explode just yet.

I step into the cool night; no monsters, no doubles, no craziness. I look at the stars and the blue-ringed moon. Someone is paging my brain again.

Bring take-out? Enough for four? Um. Okay.

I open my eyes and everything's backwards. My left hand is my right hand, and instead of two left feet, they're both righties. Around me is darkness.

"All right. Where am I?"

"That's a good question," someone says with my voice. "There I was, instructing a terrified family of four on dry brush technique so as to cover up the horrible yellow paint they'd inflicted on their living room walls, and now I'm here. With you."

He looks an awful lot like me, except his goatee is black. And he seems awfully concerned about interior decorating.

"Who are you?"

He gives me a condescending look and shakes his head--starting from the wrong side. Looking at it makes me dizzy.

"I'm your evil twin, idiot."

"Evil twin? You mean like Miracleman's twin?"

"You really don't see much of the big picture, do you? It happened all over town. When I was pulled out of my seminar I thought someone had reversed the spell, and I would be re-integrated into you before I had the chance to beautify the city. But then I showed up here."

"Chill, dude. Here is good. We got Playstation."

I look at the couch. Was there a couch there before? It's me again, slouched into the cushions in sweatpants and a t-shirt filled with holes, a bag of Doritos in my lap and a two-liter of 7Up at my feet.

I look at black goateed me. "If you're my evil twin, who's this?"

"I'm Switzerland, dude. Could you step aside? I'm gonna get my ass kicked if you don't quit blocking the screen."

"You're Switzerland?"

"Neutral. You know, not involved. Just collecting interest."

"Apathetic," says evil me. "Wishy-washy."

"Whatever," says the me on the couch.

"And where are we?" asks evil me with a sneer. He does everything with a sneer. A backwards sneer.

"In the mirror, man. I don't know why you ever left. We got cable and everything."

"Why are we all in the mirror?" I ask, Me me, the original. I think.

"I'm thinking it's got to do with personality integration. See, we weren't back in meatspace for more than, what, a day? Before the whole splintering thing. So when the counter-spell tried to put us back together, it didn't know how. We weren't a fully formed personality, so it stuffed us in here to figure it all out."

"And how do we do that?" asks evil me.

The me on the couch shrugs. "Don't know." He offers a controller. "Wanna play?"

The Difficult guy sneers at me. "No, I don't want to play."

I shrug. "Suit yourself."

"Look at you," he says. He's still sneering. "You're a slob. Where did you get that couch?"

"Was out on the curb. It's way comfy, man. It does smell a little."

"Are you sure it's the couch?"

I hit pause and grab a handful of Doritos. "Man, why you wanna harsh on my mellow? Come on, sit down, we'll flip through the pay channels and look for nudity."

"There must be a way out of here," says the Do-Gooder. "Have you looked?"

"I didn't want to go nowhere," I say. "So why look?"

"Don't you want anything?"

"Pretty much got it here. Cable, Playstation, snacks. A girl would be nice, but relationships are a lot of work. I can handle my own needs, if you know what I mean."

They both look kind of disgusted. Whatever.

I decide to ignore the lump on the couch and look around. Besides the couch and the TV there are nothing but shadows all around. There have to be walls, don't there? Walls with wainscoting, or wallpaper, or tasteful photography. I realize suddenly that I may be in an infinite void, and the thought is terrifying. You can't paint nothingness. It won't cover.

"If we're in a mirror, shouldn't it reflect whatever's around the mirror?"

Wishy-Washy picks his nose before answering. "It used to. Somebody broke the mirror."

I take a deep breath. "'Somebody?'"

"Well, it was distracting. I almost had the high score on 'ita's Death Match' one time when someone walked by the mirror. Real drag, you know?"

I think I'm going to panic. Yes. I'm definitely panicking. But first, to kill the Wishy-Washy one.

Before I can strangle him with the controller cord the Do-Gooder speaks up. "Let's look at this logically. If we can exist inside the mirror, there must be a mirror dimension, a space common to all mirrors."

"How is that logical?" I ask. "It could just as well be that each mirror contains its own dimension."

"Yeah, but then there wouldn't be a way out. We have to think positive."

No wonder I hate him.