Splintered Magic

The Mirror #4

by L.L. McKinney

Can dreams come true when you're living with a family curse?


NEW YORK CITY, 2000

Twins Trey and Tai are not like other high schoolers. Trey struggles to suppress his surging magical abilities, which continually impede his dream of making first chair cello in orchestra. A budding photographer, Tai just wants to take pictures and maybe find someone to take them with. But disturbing images keep appearing in Tai’s camera lens, reigniting the twins’ search for their mother, who mysteriously disappeared ten years earlier. As the two discover more clues, Trey and Tai also uncover strange secrets about their magical ancestors and about a cunning villain who threatens their very survival. Together, Trey and Tai must work to unearth the past and preserve the future of their family.

The Mirror: Splintered Magic is the fourth book in the innovative YA fairy-tale quartet following one family—and the curse that plagues it—over several generations.

Unravel the secrets of this family curse in the other books in THE MIRROR:

Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult, Historical Fiction, Magic, Witches, Fairy Tales, Fiction

Unknown Binding

First published January 1, 2023

Reviews

[Annette · Rating 4 out of 5]

When I started this series, I was not prepared for the books to end "badly". However, each and every installment was wonderful and I loved to see the curse leading us through the ages. When starting this last book I was hoping we would finally get a happily ever after for this family. This book does an amazing job ending the cycle in a very satisfying way. There are a lot of nods towards the previous books and it was amazing to see some familiar faces back.

[Holly Stahl · Rating 2 out of 5]

Errors: 

Page TWO: "Goose bumps prickled her bare arms, and she rubbed to try and banish them. She wasn't scary (scared? scare't?) or nothing like that."

Page 110: "her fingers tangle with Ayehsa's,"

Page 151: (unnecessary/extra quotation mark AND malapropism?) Eager to move on, at least for now, Tai took the easy in (out?). "It was... kinda weird. This morning there were these suits at the school.(" should be here) If they were gonna have awkward conversations, better get them all out the way."(< not there)

Purchased a copy for $5.70 at the Book Warehouse Outlet's monthly sale in Pickens, SC. Bought the entire series in order to donate it to my local Spruce Pine Public Library.

Also, the following review contains necessary spoilers. Necessary, because they explain the tonality. They're not end-game, what-all-happens spoilers, but they spoil what would've been a five-star read with how the racism reveals itself, and the context is required to ground the critique in reality.

So now that you've been warned of spoilers, you can stay or go. 

I'm allowing you some agency.

Anyway, continuing on.

There was an unsettling undercurrent throughout this book that seemed to embolden racism and prejudice in numerous small ways. There were repeated grammatical choices, pivoting racial adjective use, and ways McKinney undercuts characters that paint a more inward acceptance of prejudice. Surprisingly enough, a book about tyrants emboldened by the concept of salvation through magic conversion therapy is neutered by the irony that ignoring the value of a person beyond their skin tone damns all. All the bad guys are pale, and it's no accident that when we learn about how pale people were also victimized by eugenics or magic curses, it's disparaged or set aside for the conflict at hand. Human value is only acknowledged once usefulness outweighs their Paleness Danger Index. There's a procedural inequality at play, and it reveals itself beyond character marginalization. It does it through its own diction.

In college while working toward my Print Media and Business degree (and a visual art minor), I was familiar with the Associated Press's Guidebook like a pastor relies on a Bible. Even in 2007, many accepted terms were outdated, and eventually adjusted in later years for a more inclusive framework for objective writing. The AP's Guidebook change in mid-2020, however, bore its own contradiction: "AP’s style is now to capitalize Black in a racial, ethnic or cultural sense, conveying an essential and shared sense of history, identity and community among people who identify as Black, including those in the African diaspora and within Africa. The lowercase black is a color, not a person."

In this same context, would identifying Black persons and white persons automatically ping an inequality, stylistically if not racially? A glaring incongruency in context. Yet, further on in this update: "As a global news organization, we are continuing to discuss within the U.S. and internationally whether to capitalize the term white.

If the lowercase black is a color, not a person, why is the same not said for white? Additional arguments from news agencies reflect on how many "white" looking people do not directly identify as white, yet the Stylebook itself makes no commentary on the carte blanche (pun not intended) oversight. There are certain things that are deemed "white" in regards to white-skinned cultural traits, like under seasoned food, physical temperament (like posture), plain fashion sense, faith in law enforcement, and unmolested shopping experiences. "White" fits the same standards as "Black", and the book illustrates that magic and curses affect everyone despite these visual cues... So why did McKinney choose to capitalize Black, and not esteem black and white both in lowercase? You might not notice it, but your brain does.

As a reader, consistently seeing that visual dichotomy was stylistically unsettling. Sure, it abides by current writing standards, yet at its own detriment. The alternation between "white" as a necessary descriptor bore an undercurrent of something more demeaning in the plot's progression. "The other was a young white guy and a Black girl dressed in something outta the twenties (page 67)". Not only does McKinney describe the girl more vividly than the guy, seeing the style clash of capitalizing one instead of the other also employs a racial shoehorn assumption, a mental vision of Us Versus Them mindset, even if framed equitably in the painting. And Black capitalized for unnamed characters on page 22, 34, 174, and 245 are always portrayed neutral or positively, whereas on page 32, 59, and 237, it's in negative connotations. 

The more the story progresses, the more being said about racial disparity hides in tonal indecision. Starting on page 70, the reader and protagonists learn this "generic white girl" was someone Blake, their mother, had seen and painted as well, imbuing value beyond the nuisance of the girl's existence, but it wavers. She is "prolly no one", according to their father. Is it because of her skin tone, or because it was an early work? What makes her "no one" if their mother painted her; is this a way to casually devalue Blake's work as a young artist? This Jane Doe's valuation of worth is further undercut here, as Tai questions why she feels "awash in emotions" for a girl that looks "so very, very tired" who had otherwise been a blight to her daily life to experience (71). Her skin tone was validated by Blake's portraiture, as if imbuing maternal favor by using resources to paint this girl at all. "This girl provided a connection to something Tai didn't realize she needed to be tethered to. (72)" This unnamed girl is repeatedly making herself visible to Tai, and in the most shallow basins of empathy, skin tone should never describe this girl in need as anything but a girl. But McKinney deliberately chose to make her skin tone a requisite marker of value in all of these instances. As Tai investigates further, the girl's skin tone's impact tends to dissolve on pages 80 and 85, as the painting's provenance is unearthed (also, HOW did their Dad, who read these provenance journals and converted them digitally, claim fervent ignorance of significance? It's just yet another undercurrent of excused ingrained racism.) The girl's portraits were tucked away because the alabaster and powder-shaded paints triggered a prejudiced opportunity for erasure, especially on pages 74 and 84, when pertinent information and effort to humanize her to Tai erodes, she became "the white girl" yet again. 

There's also the part on page 215, and subsequent interactions with a character named James, that calling the man a "gorilla" is okay because he's pale? This is where the moral high ground washed out completely. The anger of previous prejudiced language, done to humiliate a people group, bleeds and further taints a work that is otherwise a beautiful, well-crafted example of inclusivity that elevates a fictionally enlightening minority experience.

When the story retracts from waves of racial prejudice, it slithers into another course of prejudice: hating redheads. Contrasting Ayesha's red microbraids, the twins are pursued by white-suited white folks, led by a redhead, the pinnacle of paleness. And even when the plot establishes the redheaded white-suited woman is a magic-user betraying other magic-users for the bad guys, the fact she has undergone the conversion therapy of "scrubbing" and torture is mentioned and never regarded again on page 263. The fact the enforcers with her aren't solely for her benefit, is regarded and ignored not because of her alliance, the plot relies on her pale skin tone more. No one affiliated with Corvus is melanated despite the capacity for prejudice of everyone involved. This unnamed redheaded pursuer is a prisoner just as much as the diverse and equitably included ones on page 351. When we learn the "Gorilla" James was also coerced and under duress to comply, no shred of empathy is spared at any interval. Sucks to be pale in McKinney's world. 

Don't get it twisted, though. I am DEEPLY infatuated with McKinney's prosaic voice. Each character from a differing social class comports themselves in vivid phrasing, creating a kaleidoscopic cross-sectioning of speech mannerisms that are a verbose buffet. My problem is what she obfuscates using timely touchstones and healthy and realistic family dynamics. Everything outside of those boundaries, however, is Where Whitey Treads.

Also, there are minor plot peculiarities that bear acknowledgement.

Firstly, Tai's scrying ability wouldn't be thwarted by a digital camera. In the film camera viewfinder she first spotted the girl, I don't think McKinney understands how cameras work. What is seen in the viewfinder is initially transmitted by a mirror to the film, passing through it, before it is reflected back up to be displayed in the viewfinder. The photographer friends mentioned on 87 would have Tai's dad select a DSLR camera, which would have several series of mirrors inside, which would add to the heft and quality of the camera. It could bear to reason that the light sensitivity would make it more likely to capture auras and broader waves of light than our eyes can naturally perceive (which is why Tai could see it when adjusting digital files onboard the camera's settings. TL;DR: the girl in the old timey dress would have persisted nonetheless, because Tai was looking through mirrors on both types of camera. 

Secondly, the repeated allusion of Sixth Sense-type happenings made me sigh. Had this book been set in 2003, the more apt Fatal Frame game could've provided a better reference point. I don't doubt the intentionality of setting this story pre-9/11 was an effort to avoid racial derailment by Islamophobia. 

Where other reviews may be more discretionary or unaware of the prejudice that creeps through this work worse than kudzu in a Deep South summer, they aren't in regards to Ayesha's tokenism. There's a wealth of analysis in why Ayesha's dimensionality lies only in her wealth and romantic preference. McKinney had no space for why she's there otherwise (apart from a small aside of a spoiler later on which is flimsy at best). Why did Ayesha transfer specifically to the twins' school? How does she have so much competition experience? What makes her parents rich? Why does her initial value to the plot have to be framed as a fulcrum for tension, that only allows her to graduate into Third Wheel territory? Is she a placeholder for the reader's experience? Other than the convenience of being, she's not really useful to the story. Ayesha as a character provides no contextual allegory beyond being a plot entity. Which is a cruel irony: Ayesha has the most means as a character with the least impact written for her. 

I would have laughed louder than I did had these Gundam Wing and InuYasha fanfics been found on Magoo! (Yahoo!) or Angledflames (Angelfire) fansites. At the time this book is set, I was the same age and busy in roleplaying chatrooms and participating in forums, crafting my own fanfics about Ranma 1/2 and The X-Files with others. Tai and I could've been besties, but with how she doesn't even spare a shrug when she hears a redheaded magic user was tortured through failed conversion therapy tactics, I'd probably be ignored and written off. 

Just another sad looking white girl whose existence is perceived as pestilence, and not as a plea. Just like Elva.

Equality snuffed by engendered prejudices. 

Yet another well-written work beset by its own cognitively dissonant virtue signaling. To elevate one does not require the dismissal of another. If black is a color, not a person, whose equity cannot extend to a white person, what hope is there for racial divides to blur if the capitalizing overcorrection persists? The work is written to intentionally perpetuate an imbalance of contextual value, institutionalizing racial debasement cloaked in unstigmatized clarity. 

And yet, the book still seems predatory for younger/immature audiences. 

[Valeria · Rating 4 out of 5]

Two twins united to figure out the mysterious disappearance of their mother, thereby dispelling a family curse in an page-by-page thrilling story, the 4th of the series The Mirror.

[Jess · Rating 3 out of 5]

Splintered Magic by L.L. McKinney is the fourth and final book in the innovative Disney YA series, The Mirror. The series puts a new, unique, spooky and mature spin on the young adult fantasy genre. This quartet of books tracks one family―and the curse that plagues it―over several generations.

Splintered Magic follows Broken Wish by Julie C. Dao (book one), Shattered Midnight by Dhonielle Clayton (book two) and Fractured Path by J. C. Cervantes (book three). In Splintered Magic, McKinney wastes no time in jumping right into the magic in bustling New York City in the year 2000, where Trey and Tai’s journey begins and ultimately where the family saga ends.

There is so much to love about this series and one of the primary themes that Splintered Magic in particular does a great job of is making magic more ‘mature’.

As sixteen year olds, Trey and Tai are in the midst of teen growing pains and their struggles are exacerbated by losing their mom ten years earlier and the fact that they each possess unwieldy, unpredictable magic that they’re not sure how to control, let alone know what to do with. One may generally think of magic as a great gift; a relatively straightforward wand-waving, for example, but Splintered Magic reveals the long-term trials and tribulations that come along with it, leaving the reader wondering if the tradeoff is all it’s cracked up to be. I found this more mature, thoughtful spin on magic refreshing and engaging, as it puts the reader at the heart of the struggle as well – we might not know how to use magic but we sure can relate to and empathize with the characters’ learning experiences, including grappling with the plague of self-doubt that can come with being brave, facing one’s fears, and trying to control the seemingly uncontrollable.

McKinney also does a commendable job of exploring relationships in this book. The relationships between Trey and Tai, the twins and their dad, Tai and Aisha, and Trey and Aisha dig deep and shed new light and dynamics on this modern family unit which is different to the family composition in prior books. I loved that Splintered Magic split the protagonist role between twins and that Trey’s and Tai’s views are woven together into one story in which they both equally lead.

Splintered Magic is very much split into a first act and second act. In the first act, the reader gets to know the twins, glimpse their magic and learn about their relationships. In the second act, the journey drastically intensifies as McKinney makes her own magic in wrapping up the series and tying the generational stories together. This was no easy feat given the richness and complexity of the magic elements across all four books, but McKinney manages it with ease, clarity and a delightful dose of humor.

All books in the series do a good job of addressing gender and racial disparities. It is inspiring to see great stories bringing these issues to the fore in significant and clever ways. While The Mirror is premised on fantasy, the disparities flagged are raw and real (and have been since the 1800s in which the first book is set). Dao, Clayton, Cervantes and McKinney use their talents not only to raise awareness but to educate intelligently and thoughtfully. Young readers and adults alike can learn and benefit a lot from such storytelling.

Finally, another aspect I love about The Mirror is the time – and geography – travel between the stories. Readers are transported to:

1800s Germany (in Broken Wish, book one)
1920s New Orleans (in Shattered Midnight, book two),
1960s San Francisco (in Fractured Path, book three), and
2000s New York City (in Splintered Magic, book four).
Each different period brings with it new context and characters, and each subsequent book builds on the trials, tribulations and lessons learned from prior books in the series. There is a lot of unpacking to do, and this series strikes me as one in which every time you read it, you may pick up on something new.

Splintered Magic conforms to the necessary parameters laid out in the prior books while simultaneously doing a tremendous job in tackling the unenviable task of concluding the quartet. It course-corrects prior broken promises, works through generational family secrets and encourages hard work, self-belief and persistence to make things right for the past, present and future.

[Mrs_R_Librarian · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thank you to @NetGalley and the publisher for allowing me to read an eARC of this title.

The Perfect Series End!
The series started with Broken Wish by Julie C. Dao. Set 1800's Hanau, Germany it was the story of a witch, a couple desperate for a child, a broken promise, a young girl named Elva, and a curse on one family and their descendants.
Then Dhonielle Clayton's Shattered Midnight shared the story of their descendants in 1920's New Orleans.
The third book, Fractured Path by J.C. Cervantes, took us to 1965 San Francisco and introduced us to more descendants.

Now, with Splintered Magic, the fourth and final book of the series, L.L. McKinney has brought us full circle. It is now the year 2000, and twins Trey & Tai live with their father in New York City. Their mother has been missing for ten years, and without her, the twins struggle to understand and control their powers.
I don't want to give away too much of the plot, but characters from the other books are either mentioned, or seen in this one. It is a fitting ending to a wonderful series.

I will defiantly purchase this one for my high school library.

[Karen Cohn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Twins Tai and Trey are about to turn 16 - knowing that every year on their birthday, something bad happens. And this year, oh, boy, does it! Tai and Trey are already unusual, because they both have magic: Tai can see things in mirrors, and Trey can make things change - often unintentionally; at the start of the book, he's accidentally turned his usual corn rows into a clown wig, and he can't change it back. But that's minor compared to the people in white suits who show up at their school searching for them on the morning of their birthday. From there, things get weird. Together, the twins, along with Tai's new girlfriend, Ayesha, find themselves on the run from the people in white - people who may hold the secret to the disappearance of the twins' mother a decade before.

This novel is set just after Y2K, which is relevant only because it accounts for the lack of cell phones, the presence of which could have significantly changed the plot. It deals with inherited magic - magic the twins are having difficulty learning to use because it comes from their mother, who vanished when they were 6. Their explorations into how to use their powers - especially while on the run from the people in white - is interesting to watch, as is the blossoming relationship between Tai and Ayesha, notable mostly because it is a near-instant connection; they meet one day and are a known pair of girlfriends the next, which seems a bit quick even for 16 year-olds. Appropriate for middle school through adult.

I voluntarily read and reviewed an advanced copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[Rafael Andrade · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Mirror saga has its kick-off with Broken Wish, by Julie C.Dao, a story about friendship, sisterhood, and magic. It is the story of three women and a curse that will plague future generations. I was in awe when I read it. Julie hit the nail on the head when she created such an immersive and magical universe. Fairy tale at its finest. Dhonielle Clayton has taken the story to the next level with Shattered Midnight by bringing the story to the vibrant New Orleans of the beginning of the twentieth century and its star-crossed lover's magical couple. However, the saga took a turn that I was not expecting, and to my dismay, Cervantes's Fractured Path left a lot to be desired by its shallow action-packed good guys chased by an organization that only came to be for reasons that I cannot understand. Why create enemies the likes we see in Indiana Jones movies?
Finally, Splintered Magic manages to put the story back on its track. Without the charm of the first two entries, Splintered Magic goes more profound in the universe set by Julie with a satisfactory conclusion. A saga that had a perfect start and could have ended with a real bang. Readers, who have been reading the books, will find some comfort in its end.

[Alison · Rating 3 out of 5]

Tai and Tre are twins with magical abilities and a mother who is missing. When their 16th birthday triggers their 'birthday bad luck' a chain of events starts that nobody could have expected.

This book is set in the year 2000 and is billed as a historical fiction on some sites because of it. The only historical elements you really come across is the music, the mention of the twin towers on the skyline, and the fact that Tai has had some social issues in the past for being bi. (I'm sorry, but even in Y2K the price of a cello would have been more than the price of its case, especially if Tre was really a music superstar).

I thought this was a great book, overall. The relationship Tai and Tre had, not only with each other, but with their Dad, was pretty incredible. It all played into the fact that family connections were so huge in this story. There were plenty of mishaps and plenty of adventure, but through it all they relied on and worried about each other.

[Riley · Rating 3 out of 5]

Don't get me wrong, I loved the end of this series. I think having the narrative jump from different time periods and also having different authors narrate the different voices really gives you the sense of the story moving from person to person.
My ONLY gripe is I have so many questions still! Where did Ayesha's magic come from? What the heck was with that very clearly magic violin? Where was Remi? from book 3? I want more stories in this universe please! Having the series stay very focused on this family throughout the generations and then all of sudden in the last two books introduce this gigantic world war kind of thing and all of these characters with magical intent feels like they're setting up for more stories and I would so be down.

[Faith Noelle · Rating 4 out of 5]

Overall a good read, exciting to see the conclusion to this great series. In some ways I didn't feel as connected to the twins as I wanted to, but I liked having two POVs and seeing how the magic and curse affected them both similarly and differently. One thing that did bother me was the casual use of the n-word. Which felt realistic enough for the time period and the characters, but I personally don't like reading it in books, so just to keep in mind if you feel similarly. Overall good conclusion and enjoyed how it all ended.

[Connie · Rating 2 out of 5]

I tried two different times to read this book, and I just couldn't get into it. I finally powered through and finished the audio version. It might have helped to have read the first 3 in the quartet beforehand, so keep that in mind before picking this one up. Additionally, there were parts of the narrative that were stilted and forced, and Trey and Tai do not always read as 16 yr olds (more like middle school than high school).

[Bekka · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great wrap up to the series, though I will say that I wanted a bit more about their missing mum and what happened to her in the intervening years, and a bit more about fixing the curse.
Otherwise, definitely a great ending to a great series!
TW for missing parents, kidnapping, violence, gun mentions, hints at homophobia, grief, mentions of death.

[Kathy Mosack · Rating 3 out of 5]

DNF at 50%

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

I think this is the first book in the series I've read, but that's ok. It was easy enough to get into this world and understand the characters/plot.

The magic that Trey and Tai share is interesting, part of a family inheritance and manifests differently in both. Of course, it helps move the plot along (just once, couldn't we have some magic that frustrates the plot??). I wished that had been explored a little more, and also how Ayesha might be connected. The flashes of lives that Tai gets are apparently part of the previous book's plots, which might send readers to them (if they haven't read them already).

Overall, this was enjoyable but nothing special.

ARC provided by publisher.

[Kylie · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars
This was a solid conclusion to this series. It brought everything around full circle and had a satisfying ending.
This series follows generations of one family and each book is written by a different author. In this book, we follow Tai and Trey, twins who are descended from our first main character Elva. They both have magical powers like their mom who went missing 10 years ago. Trey is able to break things, usually unintentionally, he also changes his hair color in the beginning and he has a knack for music. Tai can see visions in reflective surfaces. Then one day at school, the twins start being followed by people in white suits. These people are very dangerous and Tai and Trey start to learn a lot more about their powers.
I liked Tai and Trey a lot, they had a great relationship with their dad who did everything he could to be a great parent after their mom disappeared. Tai also meets Ayesha and the relationship they form is so sweet and innocent.
The plot of this book actually felt quite fast. I managed to read the whole book in 4 days which is quick for me. I was intrigued enough to keep picking it up. The very beginning felt a little slow, but the white suits show up pretty early on in the book and after that, there are some action scenes and we start to learn secrets.
The only thing that brought this down a tiny bit was the writing style. There were times when I was pulled out of the story a little bit, but not so much that I felt the need to read slower or put the book down. Like I said, my intrigue was pretty high.
I don't want to spoil anything, especially since this the series finale, but it was just very cool how everything came around full circle with the first book taking place so many generations ago. We get all of our questions answered and the ending is very wonderful.
Thank you to Netgalley and DisneyBooks for a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!