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Crooking a finger for Elena and Stefan to follow, Bonnie led them to a narrow opening between two partitions and pulled aside a swathe of black cloth. “Duck under here,” she said softly, “and we’ll come out on the other end of the Fun House.”

“You’re the best, Bonnie,” Elena whispered and ducked under the cloth.

When Elena straightened up, she had to blink and shield her eyes for a moment. Strobe lights were flashing here, too, but far faster and brighter than in the Druid Room, as if they had been turned up to their maximum settings.

In one bright flash of light, Elena saw a twisted face, pale and staring. A corpse. They were too late, she realized, with numb horror. Everything was lost.

“Elena?” Stefan asked. He must have been able to hear the panicked change in her breathing. The lights flashed again and she realized there was no corpse, just her own reflection, distorted by a fun-house mirror.

The mirrors were everywhere. An image of Elena and Bonnie stretched out like rubber bands stood by a reflection of Stefan with an enormous head. Loud carnival music blared all around them.

The whole effect was dizzying, and Elena wanted to shut her eyes, but there was no time. They had to find Damon.

The hall of mirrors curved in front of them, and they couldn’t see the other end. Cocking her head to indicate the direction, Elena led Bonnie and Stefan up the hall, stumbling as the lights dimmed, then flashed again.

As they rounded the bend, she saw Damon and Caroline, reflected over and over. There were a hundred Damon and Carolines in the flashes of light, all around her, squashed and bulbous, long and thin, bulging oddly.

In the center, two perfectly beautiful people, one human and one vampire, were locked in what was almost an embrace.

Damon had thrown off his cloak and wore jeans and a black button-down. His head was bent back, exposing his long white throat to Caroline. In one hand, he clasped a dagger loosely—Stefan’s dagger, Elena realized, one of his stolen treasures—and Elena could see that he had made a cut along his breastbone for Caroline to feed from. Her face was pressed against Damon’s chest, and, with a shudder of disgust, Elena realized Caroline was swallowing his blood eagerly.

When Caroline raised her head for a moment, her mouth was red and slick with blood. It dripped down her chin and marked her pure white shift. Elena recoiled. The girl’s cat-green eyes seemed dazed, and, as she gazed up at Damon adoringly, Elena was quite sure he’d put Caroline heavily under his Power.

“Stay back, Elena,” Stefan said softly.

At the sound of Stefan’s voice, Damon looked up and threw him a dazzling, brief smile. Turning Caroline gently around so that she faced them, he raised his dagger and laid it against her throat. Caroline hung in his grasp, blinking slowly, not seeming to even see them.

“No,” Stefan said. Elena could feel him tensing himself for one desperate run at Damon. And she knew, as surely as if she had seen it, that if Stefan made a move toward him, Damon would cut Caroline’s throat.

“Stop,” she said, her voice breaking. “Everybody, just stop.” She pushed back her own red hood so that she and Damon could see each other more clearly. His eyes held hers, wide and dark, and his lips tipped up in a mocking smile.

“You need each other, you and Stefan,” she said. “Why are you trying to make another family when your family is here?”

Damon sneered. “Family. Stefan hasn’t been my family since he stuck a sword through my heart.”

Beside her, Elena felt Stefan stiffen. Then he stepped forward. “There is nothing I regret more than that. I killed you. My only brother.” His green eyes were full of tears. “Even if I lived forever, I could never make it up to you.”

Damon stared at him, his handsome face blank.

“Remember how Stefan followed you when you were a child?” Elena asked. “He’d take a beating from your father rather than ever betray your secrets. He worshipped you.” She felt Stefan glance at her curiously, wondering how Elena could know that, but it didn’t matter now. She kept her attention firmly fixed on Damon.

Was his grip on the dagger pressed to Caroline’s throat loosening? Elena wasn’t sure.

“Remember Incognita, the beautiful black mare you won playing cards, when you were just sixteen?” Stefan said hoarsely. “That morning when you brought her home, you let me ride behind you, and we went so fast, her hooves hardly touched the ground. We were invincible then. Happy.”

Surely the taut line of Damon’s mouth was softening, Elena thought. The dagger had slipped a little, resting gently against Caroline’s throat as she sagged, half-conscious in Damon’s arms. But then Damon tensed again.

“Sentimental tales from the nursery,” he scoffed. “Those children have been dead for centuries.” He took a fresh grip on the knife.

“It still matters,” Elena said desperately. “You’re both still here. There are only two people left in the world who remember you when you were alive, Damon. Once Stefan is gone, only Katherine will remember, and she’s the one who changed you. No one else knows anything but the monster. It’s not too late to change that.”

Damon hesitated for a split second. “Again with these promises you can’t keep. If you want the good brother, you already have him.”

Elena shook her head. “No,” she said. “This isn’t about that. I never had either of you, not in this world.”

Damon’s forehead creased in a puzzled frown, but Stefan held out his hands to his brother beseechingly, walking slowly toward him. “I never meant to kill you,” he said, as softly and soothingly as he would have spoken to a wild animal. “I would spend the rest of my days trying to right that wrong, if you would be my brother again.”

There was a long, tense moment. The cheerful, hectic carnival music was at odds with the mood of the room.

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