Chapter Two: The Reflection Moves First

It claimed the city had removed ten days to conform to the new calendar and that “no disturbance occurred.” The latter phrase had been pasted over older writing. Transmitted light exposed the original text beneath: *Eleven thousand four hundred twenty-seven dead. Registers consigned to flame.* At the bottom were the names of twenty-four calendar officials. Su stopped at Su Henian. “I know that name,” she whispered. “But I don't know who he is.” Below it, the torn final line read: *Using the daughter of Calendar Official Su—* Alarms erupted. Every covered mirror bulged as though breathing. In a strip of stainless steel, Lin's reflection looked up too soon, toward the space behind Su.