10. Esmira #2
I stood up so quickly the chair fell over with a crash. My face felt hot and that desire I refused to name rushed to the surface. But no. He couldn’t mean it. He didn’t want me that way. “Did you just propose marriage?”
A wicked light danced in his eyes, as though he were enjoying my discomfort. “I did not expect to bind myself to a mortal, but the bonds of marriage will protect you in my land. I suspect you’ll have many offers . . .”
To my embarrassment, tears gathered in my eyes. “Why do you joke this way? Your offer is meaningless. I’m not yours to offer marriage to.”
A flash of white came as he grinned at me. “Why does my offer make you angry? Is it because you want more than hollow words? More than protection?”
He raised his eyebrows, daring me to respond. I’d expected to eventually marry, but not because an immortal prince offered me his protection. His offer was both insulting and demeaning. I scowled down at him. “I reject your offer,” I snapped. “I have Mirror Magic, I can protect myself. ”
His laugh was deep and guttural, almost a snarl. When he spoke, the words were under his breath, but in the kitchen’s stillness, I heard them clearly. “Yes, the same way you protected yourself from the Venators.”
I spun on my heel, anxious to escape before I burst into tears.
Had Lyra known about this? She’d mentioned the prophecy and the fact that we were leaving.
Had she known he’d also propose? All this time, everyone in this crumbling castle knew exactly what was happening but they’d left me in the dark while they planned and plotted.
Just like my father. I was always the last to discover the truth.
“Esmira, wait.”
Grabbing my shoulder, Methrin spun me around and pushed me up against the wall.
He placed his hands on either side of my head and angled his head down, leaning over me.
The color of his eyes arrested me, the hues of purple, similar to the Boundary yet darker, enchanting.
His pupils were large, round, crowding out the color of his eyes into a dark orb.
It was only then I recognized what I looked at.
Orbs of desire.
My breath came short, but it wasn’t me he craved, it was my magic.
“If you change your mind . . .”
“I won’t,” I interrupted. And then, because I desperately wanted to change the topic of the conversation. “Show me the prophecy.”
But he didn’t move. His gaze flickered down my face, lingering on my lips, then returned to my eyes, a question in his. “You will come with me?”
“I will,” I breathed, because despite my anger and the feeling I’d been forced into a situation I had no control over, part of me was curious. I had nothing to lose.
M ethrin led me into the depths of the castle, carrying a flaming torch. Old symbols were carved on the wall, an ancient taste tainted the air. We walked a labyrinth of winding halls and stone staircases until I felt as though I’d been buried under layers of old rocks humming with arcane magic.
Eventually the passageway widened and torches flickered on either side of the wall, guiding us into a cavernous library.
Books were stacked on stone shelves, scrollstucked into crevices, to the side a stone table with a few chairs and in the middle, a pedestal.
On top of it lay a tome, illuminated pages open.
Lyra and Rydlin stood in front of the book and both looked up when we entered.
Rydlin stepped back from the tome, knobby fingers resting on a staff. “It is done?”
Methrin placed the torch in a slot near the doorway. “Yes, will you show Esmira the prophecy?”
“Come,” Rydlin beckoned, making room for me .
I kept my gaze trained on Lyra as I approached. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.
Taking my hand she squeezed it. “I wanted to, but it wasn’t my story to tell.”
A protest rose but I swallowed it down, recalling that she’d told me as much as she could. Even she wasn’t aware of the full truth since Rydlin would not share his side of the story with her.
Hugging my arms around myself, I stared down at the tome. It was clearly an old book, the parchment faded, torn at some places. Whoever had illustrated it had taken care with the pictures, and the writing was a series of swirls, beautiful, yet clear to understand.
“These are the words of the great prophetess, Orielle,” Lyra explained. “She was the first to command Mirror Magic and find the mirrorverse, the barrier between worlds. It is said she still walks this world, appearing to those who need her wisdom, although she takes the appearance of a mortal.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “I’ve actually heard of her, but the records failed to mention her magic.”
“I imagine the histories of this kingdom have been wiped clean of magic,” Lyra said bitterly. “To force people to forget that magic existed and the kingdom benefited from it.”
I hummed in my throat but offered nothing more as I leaned over the book and read .
W hen king of monsters is released
When rule of royal blood has ceased
Mirror Magic will unite
Mortal and immortal alike
Ties that hold the beasts will break
One last breath, shall the king of shadows take
I lifted my head, looking from Rydlin’s bald head, to Methrin’s shadowy figure and finally to Lyra who stood at my shoulder, repeating the words under her breath. “ This is the prophecy?” I challenged.
The prose was beautiful but the meaning I took from the words was much different than the meaning Methrin had given me.
“If you read the rest of the book, it becomes clear,” Lyra said, waving her hands.
I stepped back, frustrated. “How do you know this will work? This prophecy could mean anything, it might have already happened for all we know. We can’t stake our fate on words in a book.”
“A wise statement,” Rydlin said. “The words should be used as a guide, not taken verbatim. Prophecies are ever shifting and the original meaning is often lost. I did what I believed was best in the past, and it came to nothing. Now is the opportunity to try again. Just because we don’t understand something doesn’t mean we should pause and do nothing.
We need to try, to find a way to change the fate of our world. ”
I faced him, since he still held secrets and Methrin had revealed most of his. “What do you know about the monster that supposedly haunts this realm?”
Rydlin made a sound in his throat, his face turning a shade of crimson. “Ah, my dear, I have seen this . . . terror. I will show you.”
As he walked toward the concave walls his body stooped as though he carried a heavy weight. He took a scroll and unfastened the seal that protected it before bringing it to the pedestal. As he unfurled it my heart kicked and for a moment it was impossible to breathe.
A nightmarish memory bloomed.
I walked the wood with my mother, she held my hand so tightly it hurt my little fingers, and she moved quickly murmuring about the mist that would swallow the wood in darkness.
Little white flowers with heads like bells poked up from the moss, calling me to stop and pick them.
Finally, I tore free from mother’s grip and collected three of the flowers, but the moment I picked them the blossoms turned to ash.
A wail left my throat as the soot drifted from my open palm.
My mistake became clear when I felt a presence hovering.
When I squinted, peering deeper into the wood, a curtain of blackness enveloped my world.
The monster was there, one inky swirl of shadows and death.
The scent of decay impregnated the air and red eyes, glowing like coals, stared down at me with malice.
Mother screamed and threw herself between me and the beast. There came a flash of silver and then her wild cry. “Take my soul, not hers. I will come willingly.”
Not long after she disappeared.
My eyes went wet as I stared at the scroll, trapped in the throes of that memory. It was so terrifying I’d banished it, although sometimes it crept into the edges of my mind, a dark memory, haunting me.
A shadow beast covered the scroll, it was a formless monster, nothing but a shadow, a void, ribbons of darkness surrounded it.
Floating in the middle where a head might be were red eyes, an open maw.
No, not beast but monster, a thing that came from the dark, from the silent places under the soil, a void spat forth from the underworld, if such a place existed.
Was this the monster that roamed the woods near the palace, seeking victims willing to sacrifice themselves to darkness?
“What is it?” I demanded, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. “What does it want?”
Rydlin rolled up the scroll. “It is known as the Noz’Kareth, or the Shapeshifting Shadow in our tongue.
There are many beliefs about it, but the truth is yet to be determined.
Some believe it takes on the form of that which you are most afraid of and many believe it takes the essence of magic from its victims while others believe it draws on the soul?—”
“Rydlin,” Methrin interrupted, his voice hard, dangerous.
I closed my eyes, thinking of my mother. What were we doing in the wood that evening? Why would the monster want her ? “What of those without magic?”
“More knowledge about it is held in the halls of the Everminati,” Methrin said, drawing my attention back to him.
He stood at the entrance, fingers closed into fists, jaw working. The torches caught his profile, highlighting his pointed ears and the shades of his rich black hair. He looked uncomfortable, angry even. Why had he interrupted Rydlin so abruptly?
“We are going to the Everminati to find the weapon to defeat it,” I clarified.
Methrin did not look at me, and a sinking sensation went through me. That was why we were going through the portal, to his home. Wasn’t it?
“We should prepare to leave. Tomorrow,” Methrin said with finality.
“Did you tell her about the mirror?” Lyra asked.
Methrin crossed his arms. “Not after she declined my marriage proposal.”
My face went hot and I wanted to sink into the stone. He spoke so flippantly.
Lyra squeezed my arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he’d ask you.”
“Is it tradition?” I snapped, my temper fraying at the edges again.
Rydlin interrupted. “Are you sure your magic is strong enough?”
I didn’t realize he was speaking to me until I felt all eyes on me. I blanched. “Strong enough for what?”
“To open the portal in the mirror,” Rydlin explained. “They have long been closed but Prince Methrin has persuaded me that you have powerful Mirror Magic, strong enough to open portals into lands.”
“I . . .” Words failed me because what could I say? Methrin hadn’t taught me how to use Mirror Magic, just how to recognize it within myself .
“It will work,” Methrin said. “We leave in the morning.”
Rydlin frowned. “It’s on the other side of the Boundary, don’t you need longer to prepare?”
“I’ve waited long enough,” Methrin said, the edges of a snarl in his tone.
My mouth went dry, and dimly I heard Rydlin’s next words.
“Then Lyra and I will escort you to the mirror.”
“Wait,” I protested. “We are to cross the Boundary?”