The Mirror in the Mountain (The Mirrored Trilogy #2)

6. Eva

Chapter 6

Eva

I groaned as I woke, my head pounding. It was too dark to see anything, though the world moved strangely around me in sickening jolts as my back slid against the cool metal beneath me. Pain radiated up my ribs as my side collided against something hard, threatening to pull me back into unconsciousness.

Of course Alette had disappeared before she could be of any help against the guards who had taken me, leaving me in the middle of whatever her half-cocked plan had been. But she had gotten me out of that room, and delayed Aviel from his plans for me, though I could only guess for how long.

Perhaps freeing me hadn’t been her goal this time. After all, she had succeeded in getting Aviel away from the Source, if the sounds of soldiers and horses cutting through the darkness were any indication.

Now it was up to me to save myself.

Based on the rocking motion and jarring bumps, I was confined in the back of some sort of carriage as Aviel transported me to gods knew where. I shifted only slightly in case I was being watched…and felt iron biting into my wrists and ankles. I was shackled, even here in this new prison.

Aviel was taking no chances I would flee again.

Reaching out with my hands and feet as far as I could, I felt around the corners of my cage, even as my blood dripped down my arms from where new cuts sliced into old scars. It was a box, barely bigger than I was, my flexed fingers brushing against it where my hands were secured at my sides. The cold of the metal bit into my back, one shiver turning into another as it leeched away any sense of warmth.

Aviel might be taking me away in a coffin, but I refused to be reborn into the new life he imagined for me.

My own choppy breathing echoed loudly in the box—still so dark that for a second, I wondered if I had gone blind without realizing it. My head ached, my ears still ringing from the aftermath of that explosion. The toxin stubbornly clung to my mind, making my thoughts sluggish. My eyes strained, failing to make out even the faintest outline. Surely, if I waited long enough, they would adjust.

And yet, the unfamiliar darkness only deepened, the walls pressing in more tightly with every passing second.

Gasping, I attempted to suck in a full breath—trying to calm my mind, my heart. Trying not to think about how I was never going to escape this time. I yanked futilely against the shackles binding my wrists, only succeeding in making myself bleed further as the cold iron didn’t budge.

There was a crushing weight in my chest, as if an invisible force was squeezing the life from me. Despite knowing it was the worst possible thing to do, panic tore through me like a creature clawing at my ribcage as it tried in vain to escape.

Breathe . I had to breathe.

But there was no air, the darkness suffocating. The rising tide of pain and fear and dread threatened to swallow me whole.

I couldn’t breathe .

I could almost appreciate the sadistic irony. That the core of my own magic, the one thing that had always helped me breathe easier, was now being used to break me.

A bump in the road bashed me violently against the too-close walls of the box, and I bit back a cry, the claustrophobia setting in worse than before. I was dangerously exhausted, choking as the stagnant air seemed to solidify in my lungs, my broken ribs screaming as I gasped for breath. Staring into the rocking darkness as it ate me alive.

There was such silence in my heart—utter, awful silence, without Bash sharing it, the lack of him a torture all on its own. It blared like an alarm in my head, drowning me in his absence. Like, without him, some intrinsic part of me had stopped working. The gaping place where he should be pulled what was left of me toward it like a black hole ripping apart a star trapped in its orbit.

I was alone. Utterly alone…and I was scared, both of what was to come and how little control I had over it.

Misery crawled up my spine. With every lurch forward, the seams holding me together unraveled a little more.

Breathe, I heard my dad’s voice say, and I clung to the memory. Now hold. Breathe out. Hold again.

Clenching my fists, I forced myself to heed that voice’s command. It took far too long to do so in my clattering cage, but I finally managed one deep breath, then another, my breaths still too loud and shallow. Counting each second.

I breathed until the buzzing cleared from my head, trying desperately to center myself. Forcing myself to focus on anything other than my enclosed tomb. Centering myself on revenge.

Aviel had taken everything from me. I would make him regret it.

You need to make a plan.

My mother’s strategy lessons came back all at once, her tone as no-nonsense as always.

Focus on the facts. What exactly do you know and how can you use it?

I reined in my breathing with single-minded determination. I knew that Aviel was the False King masquerading as his own son and had done so to gain the will of the people after his hundred-year war. I knew that he could leech magic from other fae, and from the very land itself, drawing it from the Source deep beneath Morehaven to give himself unstoppable power. And I knew he must be the true cause of the so-called curse in doing so.

Thanks to my brother, I now knew that the former High Queen had foretold that I would be her heir—and that was why Aviel had sought me out. And I knew Tobias was alive. Safe with my friends, and my anima …who was definitely blaming himself for my capture, even if I couldn’t feel his self-flagellation through our silent bond.

I might not know where Aviel was taking me. But I did know if I could get my pointer finger to my opposite palm, I could write Bash a message and tell him where to find me…assuming I could figure that out myself. Because the shackles on my wrists weren’t the same as before: there was nothing covering my hands this time. Perhaps Aviel had realized the band was enough to block my magic and had never noticed or understood what the silver quill on my palm meant. For now, my hands were forced apart, each attached to the box I was trapped in. That didn’t mean they would be forever.

When I got the chance, I had to reach Bash. Relying on him getting to me in time couldn’t be my only plan for escape, especially without any idea of how long we had been traveling while I had been unconscious, or if there would be a mirror that was safe to travel through when we arrived. Yet what else could I do, chained and magicless, beyond relying on my wits to find a way out once we reached wherever Aviel was taking me?

I lifted my head, grateful my collar hadn’t been attached to the iron behind me, only for my forehead to kiss more cold metal. Something warm and wet trickled down my face. It wasn’t until the saltiness touched my lips that I realized I was crying, silent tears tracking down my cheeks. A sob gurgled up my throat, but I choked it back in case my captors were close enough to hear me break. The urge to scream rattled around within me; tearing into my lungs, my chest suffocatingly taut as the walls pressed in again.

Blinking back the useless tears, I forced myself once more to draw a ragged breath. To pretend I was tightly wrapped in the darkness of my own making, even though the collar made that impossible.

I will endure this too. The only way out is through.

I repeated the words to myself, over and over and over as my prison rumbled forward, wincing as I was knocked against the cold metal sides of the box with each bump in the road. No…not just metal. Iron . That deadened, dissociated feeling reminded me of the cell back in Morehaven. Though the iron’s effect on my magic seemed like overkill with a band already on my neck and shackles around my wrists and ankles.

My stomach swooped as I felt a tingle on my palm. I craned my neck, contorting my wrist around painfully. Something warmed in my chest when I saw a familiar silvery glimmer breaking through the darkness.

You saved us, and now it’s our turn to save you. Hold on, hellion.

Saved us. Cursing my inability to write back, I dug my fingernails into the rose-shaped scar on my palm, wishing I could confirm if that included Rivan. Would Bash even tell me if he had died? If I had failed to save him in time?

A drop of something wet ran down my palm over the words, and I realized my nail had drawn blood, a dark half-moon now cutting into Bash’s silvery scrawl. I looked away, hoping it wasn’t a bad omen—a sign that my fears were right.

I bit my lip as the message faded, returning me to the endless blackness.

Pins and needles spiked up my legs. Shifting, I methodically moved my limbs, welcoming the prick if only as a brief distraction. I needed to relieve myself, and I suddenly realized that that urge could help me, perhaps even give me an opportunity to escape before Aviel could get his hands on me. Heat stung my cheeks as I let my bladder loose, cringing at the warm, wet puddle spreading beneath me.

If it bought me time, I wouldn’t waste the tactic to my own embarrassment.

Because they would eventually take me out of this box—and when they did, I needed to be ready. Preferably to find a way to escape before I got to wherever we were going, and Aviel chained me inside another bedroom.

My stomach lurched at the memory of him holding me down. At what I very well might not be able to stop this time. But I wasn’t defenseless, not now, not ever. I had survived him this far. And I couldn’t let myself worry about that until I had to if I was going to stay sane. Not when the only way I was going to get through this was from sheer will alone.

With one last jolt, the carriage came to an abrupt stop, my body thrown against the side of the box. I gasped aloud as my ribs screamed.

Were we at our destination? Or merely a stop along the way?

There were footsteps, and the echoing click of a lock. Then light. Blinding, blinding light burning my retinas like a reflection of Aviel’s stolen power.

The lid screeched open. I blinked over and over as the world burned in the daylight, a shadowy figure leaning over me.

You missed your chance, I thought determinedly. You missed your opportunity to find me defeated, if only for a moment. Now, I am ready.

Aviel’s face came into focus, though it might as well have come straight from my nightmares. His mouth twisted in a smug, sickening smile as I stared into those pale, depthless eyes, not bothering to hide my revulsion. How he had ever managed to pretend to be my intended, let alone the rightful ruler of this realm was beyond me. All I could now see in those dead eyes was the sort of murderous madness not so easily masked.

“Welcome home, darling.”

Even the sound of his voice made me nauseous, a blatant antithesis to my reaction to Bash’s ever-teasing drawl. But his nose wrinkled at the smell of piss, and I couldn’t help a grim little smile.

“Get her cleaned up and ready as soon as we’re inside,” he barked to someone behind him. Silvius, likely. That weasel was never too far away from his master.

There was a turn of a key and a few more loud clicks, the noise reverberating down my chains. I barely had time to register my manacles falling open before rough hands dragged me upright. Sagging forward, my legs unused to standing after so long, I breathed through a rush of dizziness—those rough hands pinning my arms were the only thing holding me up. While I might now be in even worse danger, at least I was free of that godsforsaken box and the blood-crusted chains that bound me. And, more importantly, my finger could reach my palm. I just needed to wait for a moment when I was sure no one was watching.

One guard made a noise of disgust, either at the sodden back of my clothes or the acrid smell, but I acted as though I was too out of it to notice anything, keeping my eyes half-lidded. Though I couldn’t keep them from widening slightly as I was dragged from the carriage and finally took in my surroundings.

We were in front of the drawbridge of a familiar bronze castle that glinted in the setting sun. Exactly as I saw it in my vision, down to the very last spire.

Aviel’s words finally registered.

Home .

Soleara.

A snow-topped mountain loomed up behind the castle, its two magnificent blue-gray peaks dark against the sunset sky. We were surrounded by dark green hills, snow dusting the tops of towering evergreens, the still flowering plains covered in burnt orange and lush violets. There was a great rushing river underneath the drawbridge, as if the land itself had decided to form a moat, though the castle had obviously been built around it. A swift, cold breeze whipped around me as if welcoming me home.

There was something like hope in my chest at the sight of it, but I forced myself to continue my feigned dazed state as we neared the castle entry. Let them underestimate me as I waited for the right moment to strike.

“Bring her here,” Aviel ordered from the doorway. “We need her blood to open it.”

One of the guards shoved me forward, extending my hand in offering. Another pulled out a dagger. I cried out as it sliced across the rose seared into my palm. Aviel grabbed my wrist, and I flinched at his touch, unable to stop it. He pressed my bloody hand onto gleaming writing I could’ve sworn hadn’t been on the enormous castle doors a moment ago. They immediately swung inward, though no one pushed against them, revealing an airy entryway.

A magnificent staircase crafted of polished bronze led down to the enormous greeting hall, where the agate flooring gleamed as though freshly mopped. The grand chandelier covered half the ceiling, adorned with hundreds of tiny bronze leaves that matched the aspen trees outside. Each leaf sparkled like gems in the light, as if an enchanted wind fluttered through its foliage.

I purposely staggered into the guard to my right just as he slid his dagger back into his belt, remembering all those times Tobias and I had practiced pickpocketing each other. As the guard lifted his hands to brace me, I fell against him, pretending to be too unsteady to stay upright. The other guards were distracted enough by our new surroundings to give me a split second to unfasten the short blade, sheath and all, from his belt. Before he had even pushed me away, his dagger was safely tucked into the back of my leather pants, hidden beneath my now untucked undershirt. I could only hope no one would look too closely at the slight bulge beneath the sodden fabric as the guards hauled me inside.

Suddenly I was five years old and sliding down the banister on the staircase. Tobias was at the bottom, his arms outstretched. But I was coming in too fast for it to end well, careening toward the edge ? —

Then my dad was there, pulling my brother back with one arm and catching me with the other as he swung us around from the resulting momentum. We ended up in a giggling pile on the floor, my father’s booming laughter the loudest of all.

His laugh was still ringing in my ears as I was literally yanked back to reality. The tops of my boots skidded on the shining floor as I was unceremoniously dragged toward that very staircase before my feet bumped against each step. I let my head loll to the side to get a better look around while continuing my charade, holding back a gasp as I got a glimpse of the enormous mirror at the bottom of the stairs. It was a near replica of the one I had grown up with, bronze roses gleaming along its curved, filigree edges, though nearly twice as large. As we reached the top of the staircase, I was taken down an endless hallway and through the double doors of a large chamber.

The room was long and ornate with an enormous bed taking up the opposite wall. A colorful, forest-themed rug lay across the stone floor, somehow magically devoid of the muskiness of disuse. The mahogany armoire and matching bedside tables were bare except for a small bronze table mirror edged in gilded leaves. Pillars and portraits adorned the walls, and a bronze wax-dribbled chandelier hung from the high ceiling, its numerous candles flickering a hello. One wall was covered in arching windows, the vast mountains outside darkening into shades of blue in the waning light.

I might have thought the sight beautiful if my guards weren’t chaining my wrists and ankles, hindering any hope of an immediate escape.

“Clean her,” Silvius ordered from behind me to a pair of servants in matching silver shifts, both shivering in the cold of the room. He turned to me, the annoyance on his face plainly telling me he hadn’t bought my act. “If you make any trouble, I’m sure your guards would be happy to bathe you instead.”

I glowered at him. He held my stare for a second, sneering, before he turned on his heel, shutting the door behind him. I supposed I should be thankful he hadn’t drugged me again. The servants began running a bath and lighting a fire in the hearth. One stern-faced guard patted down the bed before moving around the room, carefully inspecting each nook and cranny, the other watching me from the doorway, a flicker of flame in his open hand. His mouth curled in cruel satisfaction as I backed against the bed, the fear only too easy to call upon. When his gaze darted away, I surreptitiously slid my pilfered blade from behind my back—sticking it between the headboard and the mattress as quickly yet as silently as I could with my chains.

Once again, I was thankful for my less than normal childhood. My mom had turned pickpocketing into a game of dexterity and misdirection, where we would compete to see who could swipe the largest item from the other. Tobias always seemed to win, but I hadn’t been a fan of being in second place and worked all the harder for it. I remembered one school day when we had switched off who could hide our car key in harder and harder to reach places—including the principal’s back pocket, and the fake skull on the drama teacher’s desk—while challenging the other to retrieve it.

There was a prickle on my palm. Tears pricked my eyes when I glanced down and saw my brother’s scribble, recognizable even after all this time.

It’s me, sis. Eyes up.

Hope blossomed in my chest at our mother’s words written there—and that Tobias was safe, and with my friends. With Bash. I smiled despite everything at the mental picture of the two of them together, even with the reason behind my brother’s animosity.

I saved them. Now to figure out how to save myself.

Before I could attempt to write back with my location, a guard motioned for me to walk forward, leading me to the already full bath. The servants walked up to me, one wrinkling her nose as she cut my clothing away, before muttering to the other to throw my bloody, soiled leathers directly into the fire. The guard watched from the doorway, but she averted her gaze in a rare show of empathy, though I couldn’t be sure if it was at my nakedness or at the bruised skin it revealed. Proof of my torment at the hands of her master. I set my jaw as the servants’ hands clasped around the bruises on my arms and legs, clumsily lifting me into the copper bathtub.

The water burned against my freezing skin, but I sank into it, letting it cradle my battered body. I leaned my head back, so its surface covered my face, washing any remains of my tear tracks away. The cold, impartial hands scrubbing and tugging at me had me grasping for the unreachable pit of power inside me, wanting to throw everything I had at them. To scream at them before I tore them apart with sharp spears of darkness. Because there was no way they didn’t know exactly what they were cleaning me up for…and for whom.

But I knew I had to pick my battles. Especially when I couldn’t afford to lose.

“Why are you helping him?” My first words in too long a while were strained, hoarse.

They ignored me, scrubbing and grooming me until my skin was bare and chaffed, and I had given up at not cursing at them.

I debated turning on them now, but I knew it would earn me a prick in the arm and me losing any chance of escape. So I waited, bristling with rage as they pulled me from the water. Even as they dressed me in a pale blue dressing gown, a painstaking process in which one guard unlocked, removed, and relocked my chains one by one while the other brandished his threatening ball of flame, all while leering at my half-naked body.

Refusing to shrink back from his gaze, I carefully noted that the female guard held the key to my chains, my eyes zeroing in on the small pocket of the waistbelt she returned it to after making sure each bond was secured. But I didn’t struggle yet, didn’t make a move to escape knowing I would only have one shot at this.

“Chain her to the bed,” the leering guard ordered. “I’ll let him know she’s ready.”

Right as he closed the door behind him, I lunged, shoving the hard shackles into the remaining guard’s face. Her knees buckled, her eyes rolling back in her head, and we fell to the floor. The servants cried out for help as I pretended to pummel her unconscious form while quickly palming the iron key to my locks, before carefully closing her pocket. The door flew open, but I was too busy shoving the key in between my cleavage as I turned away, the servants fleeing like I would attack them next. I was suddenly thankful they had dressed me in a ridiculously lacy bralette, as the key snagged in the fabric. I wrapped it around the lace, hopefully securing it.

I was already out of time. Rough hands grabbed my arms, yanking me back before smashing my face into the cold stone floor. Pain radiated down my side as I fought back, panic flaring through me as a knee rammed into my spine, holding me down.

Silvius tutted as he readied a syringe. “A shame you haven’t learned to be better behaved for His Majesty. All in due time, I suppose. Perhaps I’ll figure out a serum for that too.”

His grip closed like a vise on my upper arm as I tried to twist away.

No…not again.

I couldn’t breathe as I saw that syringe, a wave of dread shuddering through me. Silvius’s lips curled into a smirk of satisfaction before he stabbed me with it. I gritted my teeth, looking away from the sight of the needle piercing my skin, trying to stop myself from hyperventilating.

Anger ignited within me as I felt the toxin dragging me into nothingness. I latched onto its flame, letting it burn away the fear and hopelessness even as my limbs grew heavy.

“I’m going to kill you,” I promised, my words slurring as Silvius backed away.

I needed to write something, anything to Bash in the seconds I had left before I lost consciousness. To let him know where I was, that I was alive…knowing he would be frantically trying to find a way to save me. But the guard’s eyes remained on me, tracking my every movement.

Then I froze as my gaze fixed on a large portrait behind the guard. The young couple was familiar even if I didn’t recognize the crowns on my parents’ heads.

Seeing them there, so young and lifelike, made my heart clench. It was strange to see their faces when all I harbored were the watercolor memories of them; the details fading with time. The picture I had of them in my head had grown more intangible over the years as I lost the memory of those little things that made their faces theirs, replaced by an amalgamation of the photos I had left behind in another realm. To see them like this, an image of them that was new , made my breath catch, a sudden wave of grief slamming into me before I could steel myself against it.

The world tilted as their faces went slightly blurry, intangible in a way that made it feel like I could reach out and touch them.

Desperately, I refocused on Bash as unconsciousness tried to take me once more. Maybe…just maybe, I could find him in the space between our dreams.

Bash’s name was the last thought in my head as my mind finally gave into the drug coursing through my body. And then I was gone.