Chapter Twenty-Seven Nox
My sister knows. She has to. The wary glances she keeps sending me, ones that don’t only contain concern but an unspoken threat, are too coincidental for her not to know.
Then again, do I really expect anything different from Bahira?
The woman was born to dissect things until answers emerged from whatever it was she fixated on, and as she, Elora, and I continue combing through books, searching for any clues on how to repair the Mirror that my magic had broken, it’s clear that her fixation is primarily on me.
In the days that had passed since I woke up—officially—from my time in the Middle, I have never felt more lost. Like a spirit haunting my own home, I am trapped in the knowledge that nearly all of my worst fears have come true.
When I was undercover in the Mortal Kingdom, nothing terrified me more than the thought that if I didn’t complete my mission, my people would suffer.
It didn’t take long being near the king to realize that his loyalties lie not with the mortals he was sworn to protect but with his own self-interests.
If someone like him had a tool powerful enough that mages could feel the brunt of its power an entire kingdom away, there was no telling what he would do with it.
No telling what someone with a penchant for violence would be willing to sacrifice to get more.
It is no secret that he hates mages, and every night when the same nightmare plagued me over and over again, all I could think about was how many lives would be at risk if I didn’t figure out what he had in time.
It felt like I was constantly sprinting into darkness, something unknown and unseen following me and gaining speed with every step that I took.
I was nearly paralyzed by the fear of it all, desperate for answers just as I was desperate to go home. And then I met her.
Sometimes, I wonder if Rhea truly understands just how much she changed me.
If she realizes just how much she saved me.
Loving her isn’t just the easiest thing I have ever done, it is a godsdamn privilege.
It is an honor that I don’t deserve but a vow I will willingly ink in blood every single day for the rest of my life.
As long as she is by my side, I have everything.
When I woke from the Middle to find that my nightmares were no longer hypotheticals conjured by my mind, no other responsibility I had sworn to uphold mattered.
They are now firmly placed in line behind my dedication to Rhea, to the true Void queen.
It doesn’t lessen my horror to know that King Dolian doesn’t just have the love of my life, he has the weapon I had been terrified of from the very beginning.
Rhea isn’t a helpless woman, but she isn’t just a mage, either.
She carries within her the magic of past goddesses, at least in comparison to the power that flows in everyone else’s veins.
She is a weapon, and I can only hope that she has found some way to utilize her magic to protect herself until I can get to her.
That is what I know my sister is dissecting as she stares at me over the book she is skimming. She had asked me not to do anything stupid, but retrieving my fiancée from the monster who once more caged her is anything but that. It is destiny—one that I am bound to fulfill.
“Maybe I pulled the wrong books,” Elora says with a sigh, taking her glasses off to rub the bridge of her nose.
She had berated me when I came with Bahira today to help them comb through books, and though I know it comes from the same place of worry that is festering in my own chest, it doesn’t stop the bite of her words from piercing through me.
How could you let this happen? Bahira had snarled something in my defense, but I need Elora’s anger.
I deserve it. I had questioned her loyalty to Rhea in the beginning, and she had shown my fiancée nothing but friendship and love.
The tears that lined her eyes as her fists curled at her sides and her cheeks deepened to a furious shade of red had been real.
She cared for Rhea, and though she didn’t know every detail that often kept me awake about Rhea’s history with her uncle, she knew enough to surmise that every fucking second spent with him would be tortuous ones.
“We’ve only just begun,” Bahira counters, laying her book down on the table.
It joins the others Elora had chosen a few days ago as a starting point for discovering how the Mirror was made.
While Bahira’s interest in fixing the Mirror seems to drive her, my own has waned.
I doubt King Dolian will even use the Mirror until he is sure Rhea is securely in his grasp.
When she is back at my side and I have her in every way you cannot, it will be you who dies a slow and painful death.
I grit my teeth, hard enough to send pain shooting up my temple.
His ego will give him a false sense of security, and I plan to exploit it thoroughly.
Even if my magic is still not back to its full strength.
I adjust in my seat, aching muscles in my back making me grimace as I try to pull my magic forward for the hundredth time to no avail.
Disquiet whispers in the back of my mind, questioning why it is still so depleted.
It had never taken long to replace the magic I used.
It was always an instantaneous thing, and now…
I force my anxious thoughts back down and focus on the book in my hand.
“It’s just frustrating. The Mirrors have been a defining pillar for each kingdom since the dawn of their existence, and yet so little is known about how they were formed in the first place. If we can’t find what we need…” Elora sighs as she leans back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest.
“You’re being dramatic. Don’t presume we’ve failed before there is reason to,” Bahira counters, her gray eyes moving from Elora to once more land on me.
“And you should eat more.” She gestures to the platter of fruits and vegetables laid out at the table’s center, roasted meats and buttered rolls also mixed into the array.
“Keeping tabs on my eating habits?” I ask, brow arched.
She rolls her eyes. “Someone has to.” Then, a little more quietly, she adds, “How are you feeling?”
A loaded question if there ever was one.
I’m desperate and miserable. A void lives in my chest, the threads that once connected me to Rhea now left in a tattered mess, as if each one was pulled until it violently snapped.
Above all of that, terror and agony bleed together until it’s a constant fiery pressure that leaves me persistently aching, nauseous, and irritable. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re trying to be convincing, you aren’t doing a very good job,” Elora drawls, earning a snort from my sister.
“Let’s focus on what actually matters and not on whether my stomach is satisfied.”
Bahira’s eyes narrow, but she thankfully doesn’t press the issue any further.
Silence once more settles between us, the library closed to the rest of the kingdom while we pursue the information we need.
Selfishly, my mind wanders to Rhea instead of focusing on the words in front of me.
I try to picture scenarios where she is safe.
Where maybe one of the head maids like Erica has recognized that she is back in the kingdom and has taken measures to ensure Rhea has everything she needs.
Would King Dolian put her back in the tower?
I doubt it, but I suppose when it comes to him and his obsession with her, there is an unpredictability that I hate to factor in.
Despite my best attempts to assuage my guilt, I keep coming to the same demand that rings throughout my head: Go get her.
“What does the Mirror look like?” Elora asks abruptly. “When it’s in use, I mean.”
“It changes from solid glass to something like liquid silver,” Bahira answers. “And it ripples like water that’s had a pebble skipped across its surface.”
“Was it the same in the Shifter Kingdom?”
My sister nods, her eyes taking on a faraway look just like every time the subject of the shifters and her time there comes up.
I wonder if she even realizes she does it.
If she finds it as ironic as I do. I’m not the only one holding things back.
Though it does make me curious, wondering what could have transpired there.
Why the council is dead set on making her relive every detail, calling her into meetings just as frequently as they call me.
I suppose this time I can’t blame their devout interest in me.
“Is there any other conduit for magic besides dragon stone?” she asks, drawing twin looks of curiosity from Bahira and I.
“Not that I’m aware of.” A line forms between Bahira’s brows. “Which begs the question…”
“What was the Mirror made of? Because last time I checked, dragon stone only comes in black and white. Not silver,” Elora finishes for her.
“And nothing else will hold mage magic long enough to be used in such a way,” I murmur, dragging a hand through my hair and holding the strands at the top.
“Assuming the Mirror is made with just any mage magic. There’s a chance that we may figure out the material but not have a way to imbue it again.
The magic that must have been in that Mirror…
” Elora pushes up to stand from the table.
“It was ancient. Likely something that came directly from Olymazi itself.”
“Or the gods.” It isn’t until I have two sets of gray eyes on me that I realize I spoke my thoughts aloud.
“This coming from the same man who once told me that the gods and fate were nothing more than things people blamed when they made the wrong decisions.”