23. Esmira
ESMIRA
I screamed at the shadows until my throat was raw and cries came no more from my lips.
Still they remained, haunting me. Sometimes they took various shapes as they stood over me, dressed in silver armor, horns coming out of their heads, swords glittering, mirrors reflecting.
My bones ached, my head throbbed, my lips were dry and cracked.
Yet I repeated the words like some dark mantra. Get out of my head.
But I had no standing with the shadows. I did not command their respect and somehow, in Astrahal, they were stronger than ever before. My mind did not belong to me. I could not think or even open my eyes without seeing them.
Periodically, there came glimmers of otherness, someone spooning broth into my mouth, whispering, “Eat.”
Occasionally a warm hand pressed to my forehead, but most of the time there was mist and shadow, a horrible nothingness.
This was what it meant to go mad, to lose my mind to the control of the shadows.
To act yet not know if I were acting, what I was saying or doing.
Nothing remained except the swirl of shadows.
Was this what it was like for Prince Methrin? The constant whispers that would not quiet? The need to lash out, but no one to strike?
Then came the sharp smell of incense, and I choked, emerging like one who’d been drowning.
I snapped awake, mind clear, the shadows gone. Around me was a sea of white clouds, and I floated within them. A female voice called out of the nothingness. “Esmira? Can you hear me?”
“Lyra?” I responded. “What happened? Where am I?”
“We don’t have much time,” Lyra said breathlessly.
“They are coming. I’m using my magic on you, which is why you can hear me.
You’ve lost yourself to the shadows, to Mirror Magic.
They plan on taking you to the temple as a sacrifice to their new dark god, the Destroyer.
When I release you from my magic, you have to fight it, you have to overcome. ”
“Where’s Methrin?”
“He will try to save you, too, but understand, we’ve been captured. We’re in chains because they believe our magic is evil. They plan to sacrifice all of us, one by one.”
“We have to fight,” I protested, panic sweeping in.
“Yes, fight the shadow, overcome it Esmira. That’s all you have to do.”
“How?”
“You know how, just don’t give in, don’t let it rule you. You are in control and have always been in control of your magic.”
The clouds wavered and flashes of black light filtered through.
“But Lyra.” Tears rose thick in my throat and sobs threatened to burst out. “I don’t know how.”
“Command it. It is you and you are it, but you are the one in control.”
I should have asked sooner: How did Methrin split himself? How did he overcome the shadow?
“I have to go, Esmira, you can do this. You have the strongest magic I’ve ever seen.”
The white light parted as her calming presence vanished, and I was left alone.
Darkness invaded my mind, but I sat upright, barely aware of the chains clanking around me.
Sitting cross-legged, I reminded myself of Methrin’s lessons on control, on feeling the magic.
The moment I sank into my consciousness, the voices whispered around me, demanding my attention.
They were loud, insistent, hard to ignore.
A common thread rose among them, one of hate, of violence, of failure and of death.
Impossible to ignore.
I shifted my focus to Lyra, her kindness, her uncanny magic. She knew who I truly was, a princess with forbidden magic yet she embraced me, she helped me. I held onto the threads of magic she’d left behind. Her calmness lingered and the voices of the shadows lessened.
A thread of gold pulsed through me, and once again my thoughts shifted to the beautiful words Methrin had shared with me. Just as I was discovering my feelings for him, he was also discovering his feelings for me.
I thought of his gentle kisses, unraveling my control.
I recalled how it felt to fight by his side, to see the light in his eyes when my magic surprised him.
The scant possibility of a future floated in front of me, and surge of yearning came.
Instead of marriage to a prince of the south to secure my father’s kingdom, I’d bind myself to the Wicked Prince of Mirrors.
In fact, our destinies were already bound, but only if I defeated the shadow.
The voices grew quieter. Another thread of gold pulsed through me, cracking the darkness, breaking through the inky ribbons that held me in their grip.
I refocused my mind once again, thinking of love, of light, of future possibilities until the swirling thoughts within settled and I opened my eyes.
This time my vision was clear.
I lay on a pallet, chained to it, and pallet bearers held me steady on their shoulders. A vast crowd had gathered under the cover of darkness, a blackness meant to rival any shadows, and we marched toward a looming statue.
It took a moment for me to realize I was already within the temple.
Chants went up around me, worshiping some demon of darkness.
A dark laugh came, reminding me I was helpless, chained, a sacrifice for their dark god.
The thoughts I’d gathered evaporated under fear, and my strength failed me as the pallet was placed on an alabaster altar.
Above me stood statues of celestial beings with wings, holding orbs of light—or holding what had once been orbs of light.
Yet now their lights had gone dark, and someone had taken the time to mutilate them, taking off a head, a wing, an arm, or a leg.
Icy fear came over me, and a voice spoke, rough and cruel.
The shadow of an impossibility large, winged creature, filled the temple. It hovered over me, humming with a foulness, a rot that made me yank against my bonds. But they held tight.
The chants rose to sheer volume, a panic as though those who worshiped the dark demon were also afraid.
They were trapped in their own folly, stuck in the worship of something strong and evil that had stolen their magic. They were prisoners, slaves to the beast. Just as I was a slave to the shadow.
Tears leaked down my cheeks as the beast came into view, wings spread, wicked sharp claws, bigger than the three-headed Destroyer had been. A pink tongue lolled out of its mouth, and a haze of fear overwhelmed me as it spoke.
“The souls of those with Mirror Magic. A worthy and rare gift. Your sacrifice shall be rewarded.”
Rewarded.
I thought of Lyra and Methrin. I thought of my cousin Rhea, my handmaiden, my father, the Venators and all the mortals of my father’s kingdom. If I failed, their lives would be like this, taken away, ruled by fear.
One day magic would be no more. One day the Boundary would shatter, and all would fall.
See. Your life is not in vain. Your soul is a sacrifice to the shadow. You belong to us.
“No,” I whispered .
There is no way out. You are in chains to be sacrificed to our deity.
“No, that demon is not my deity.”
You have no choice. We are stronger than you.
“I have Mirror Magic, my magic is strong, and you must leave. Your voice will be silent.”
The dark laugh came again. You can’t force us.
“You are me, and I am you. You are a shadow that is part of me. I am in control.”
You only think you are.
“I am in control. Now turn your magic on your deity and slay it.”
The shadow vibrated.
“I am in control,” I whispered, louder this time.
Ribbons of blackness curled around me, tightening around my throat.
“I am in control,” I said out loud.
They squeezed.
Tears blinked out of my eyes. I choked out the words. “I am in control.”
The darkness grew, morphing into a visible shape, red eyes glaring at me as it spun into a cloud. I knew the worshipers saw it when the screaming started. Magic rolled with me and I strained against my bonds once more.
“Esmira,” came a firm voice.
Methrin. My heart leaped. He was here after all.
The cries drowned out the rest of his words, but I didn’t need to hear them to understand what he’d tell me, what he meant.
I was strong, I could defeat the shadow, he had done it too.
The voices in my mind were quiet when I spoke out against them.
They surrendered to my control when I fought back, all I had to do was keep fighting.
Reaching deep down within me, I envisioned my magic, strong, pure, not tainted or tarnished by shadows, magic to defeat the darkness, magic to reclaim a homeland. I let it bubble up as the Destroyer loomed over me, I let it build and build and then—I let it out.
A shout burst from my throat as I released and a terrible sensation came as though I was being split apart.
I screamed and screamed as I shattered against darkness, like a mirror being broken.
Shards of glass burst around me, but instead of lessening, the terrible cracking sound continued, building, swelling, increasing in volume.
A roar like a wave overwhelmed the temple, and suddenly my hands were free from the bonds, but it hurt too much to even move.
Pain rippled from my head across my core, and my heart thrashed.
It felt like dying, an overwhelm of magic, and I couldn’t stop it.
It leaked out of me then took form. Golden light surged like a blade, driving into the Destroyer.
The shadow, my shadow, fled yet I felt the threads of it, ripping and spinning, tearing itself free from me.
The altar shook violently, then came a crack and the roar increased.
The entire temple shuddered. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the worshipers flee and those in attendance stepped away.
The Destroyer lunged for me, but a silver light hurled it backward, and then Methrin leaped in front of me, wielding magic like I’d never seen before .
I thought I’d seen his fury, his violence, but the way he moved wasn’t the skilled dance of a warrior. It was unhinged madness and fury, as though the anger from his years of exile had suddenly been unleashed. He poured all of his fury, his anger, into that one action, slaying the Destroyer.
A sea of pain overwhelmed me and I let myself go to sink into a blissful unawareness.