Picture on the wall

The austere Committee building towered over Darinsk’s Freedom Square. The upper floors disappeared into the clouds. The mirrored windows reflected the street, making the Committee blend in with the landscape.
The Snowman and the Snow Queen climbed the marble steps and entered the spacious lobby. From inside, the windows were not darkened at all and a sparkling white day flooded the hall. There were pieces of marble polished into cement on the floor and panels of stone mosaics on the walls. An ordinary building.
There was a long stand-up desk in the hallway where the operators sat. The Snowman approached one of them.
– Hello, we’d like to talk to someone. We have a delicate matter here.
The man smiled at the Snowman.
– We don’t deal with others. Go ahead.
– There’s a nasty letter here for Beira Syverovna. From the Troll School.
– Just a moment, – the man nodded and stared at the screen in front of him, – go to room nine. Take the elevator to the thirtieth floor, there’s a button, get out, go left down the corridor, there’s a sign.
– Thank you, – nodded the Snowman.
– Goodbye, Happy New Year.
– And you, and you.

The Snowman and the Snow Queen silently went where they were told, but sometimes the Snowman clucked admiringly, looking at the design of the Committee. As the elevator with three transparent walls began to rise, the whole of Darinsk came into view. The wall where the panel was located was mirrored and the Snow Queen looked at her reflection. She certainly didn’t look regal: a silver suit that was more comfortable for work than an ice dress, her blonde hair gathered in a bun as is. Her face was a little anxious, a little stern, a little tired, like all department heads who cared about their work.
On the platform near the elevator there was a bench and a table where the committee members were sitting, discussing something, something like a smoking room.
– Hello, we’re looking for the ninth office, – smiled the Snowman.
– Hello, – one of them, who was standing not sitting, took a few steps towards the corridor and pointed there, – there, the ninth, the last one on the left. Aquilon Astreevich is in his office.
– Aquilon Astreevich, – the Snowman froze for a moment, then shook his head and mumbled, heading for the office, – well, let it be, let it go.
– Something bad? – The Snow Queen asked.
– What? Oh, he’s very strict. He’ll take out our souls.
– How can we have souls? – Beira sighed.
The Snowman knocked on the door and it opened invitingly.
The Snowman entered first.
– Aquilon Astreevich? We’re here to see you.
– Come in, comrades, have a seat, – the man at the table looked at the guests with an icy ice-blue gaze.
The Snowman approached the table, Beira following. The man’s gaze was fixed on the guests, assessing them. Beira looked away, looking at the office, a large room with a white shelving unit on one wall, a full-wall window across the room, and a large painting behind the desk. It seemed so familiar! The ice hall, the cracked mirror of the Mind, the glowing silhouette of a bat, and another silhouette entering that glow. Beira thought she recognized herself in the one entering.
– I am Snegosha Newyearic, working at CDC, the Correspondence Distribution Center. An authorized notifier. And this is Beira Siverovna, the Snow Queen.
The man seemed to grin, though there was no movement on his face.
– And so she got a letter today, from Fairy Tale, and here it is, from the Troll School. A blackmail letter, saying that she was unfairly invited here. That it was their mirror that helped her. Asking her to put in a good word for them, so they’d be allowed here too. Otherwise, they threaten to tell you that Beira Siverovna was engaged in evil activities. Here, here’s the letter. We haven’t opened it, we don’t know what’s in it. Maybe there are shards of this mirror or some other evil thing.
– Can you read closed letters? – the man asked.
– I worked in the delivery of Granda Frost, I sorted out letters, you can’t do it without that.
– Good. Well, let’s figure it out. Some tea?
– I wouldn’t say no. It’s such a pleasure, you know, to drink hot tea and not melt, – Snegosha smiled, relaxing.
Beira didn’t answer. Aquilon carelessly and fearlessly opened the envelope.
– Oh, you’re so fearless, what if it sticks? – shrieked the Snowman, taking a cup of tea from a tray that appeared. On the tray were three cups of tea and a vase with sharply pierced multicolored candies.
– Nothing sticks to clean hands, – grinned the North Wind, now obviously.