15. Esmira
ESMIRA
“ W ho are you?” I whispered to Lyra.
We sat in a small chamber, breakfast scattered across a long table. It was quiet, the morning after the celebration but the guards had still woken us early. We’d seen none of the Everminati as we crossed the halls, and I was disappointed to find the chamber empty, no signs of Methrin.
The heated kisses from last night still lingered on my lips along with his intoxicating scent of oakmoss, hints of vanilla, and something darker.
My heart beat faster every time I thought of him.
Last night we’d been so close. Would it continue, or was it just a side effect of the high emotions that surged after the trial?
At least I had a better grasp of the truth, but not about Lyra.
Learning about her background was a welcome distraction.
She flashed me a smile. “What do you mean?”
I choose my next words carefully. “Did you know your father was from here? And he originally came to the mortal realm with Prince Methrin?”
She put down her fork, and a bright red fruit rolled off it. “Yes. I knew. My father’s stories always spoke of higher beings, another race and magic beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Honestly, I haven’t tested the limits of my magic. I believe it’s similar to my father’s, perhaps greater.”
“Do you know who your mother is? Do you believe you’re fully human?”
She laughed. “I’m part human, part Everminati, but not enough to have the pointed ears. I’m sure you noticed how unusually tall my father and I are.”
I had noticed. Tall and lean. Just like the Everminati. Full of magic but without pointed ears. It all made sense now.
“Is that why you wanted to come here so badly, to discover the truth?”
“I wanted to know who my people are, but more than anything, I want to follow in the footsteps of my father and do something great.”
By my account, her father had done nothing great. He had saved Prince Methrin’s life, but it’s likely he played a hand in unleashing the king of monsters. But I did not want to dwell on those drawbacks. “You understand magic. What do you think happened here? Why is magic gone?”
Lyra pressed her lips together then held her hands over the food. A flicker of light came, and the vegetables started sprouting, as did the fruit.
I gasped .
Lyra frowned. “Do you feel your magic? Can you make your hands glow?”
I reached deep within to that bud of magic and let it unfurl, growing until my hands began tingling.
Lyra’s eyes went wide. “You and I still have magic. So either they are lying or?—”
“Or?” I prodded.
“Or their source of magic has been depleted.” Lyra leaped to her feet and started pacing, drumming her fingertips on her chin.
“Tales of old claim that Everminati were created from stardust and drew their power from the lights of night, the moon in particular. I wonder if the moon has something to do with the loss of their magic, but it’s impossible to draw conclusions based on what limited knowledge we have.
We need to know when this started, what information the other scholars have, the history of magic?—”
“We don’t have time,” I interrupted. “The monster is out there, growing stronger.”
“It might not be,” Lyra disagreed. “How many years have passed since Prince Methrin was trapped in the mirrorverse? How many decades has the monster roamed the human realm?”
The truth wailed up inside me. I’d forgotten to tell Methrin I’d encountered the king of monsters in the mirrorverse.
It was still out there, hidden in the secret places, lurking in the shadows.
Perhaps many had encountered it and were simply too ashamed to speak of it.
It was terror. A nightmare. Even my mind wasn’t sure I’d experienced it .
But what if the truth was simple? No one spoke of the king of monsters, and no beast had ever attacked the palace.
Rumors of beasts spread far and wide, creating chaos, but my father kept his focus on the Boundary and creating alliances to give him more armies.
The king of monsters was a legend, believed in but unseen.
If not for the incident with my mother, the specter that flickered on the edges of my vision, and the hissing voice in my head, I wouldn’t believe in the monster.
But what if that was how it appeared? And there were no stories about it because everyone who saw it died—or went insane?
I buried my head in my hands.
“Esmira? What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong, princess? a dark voice hissed in my head. Black ribbons flickered in my vision, and I opened my eyes, sitting upright.
Prince Methrin’s secrets were not mine to share, but I felt another deep foreboding as I answered Lyra.
“Magic. That’s what’s wrong. Lyra, how much do you know about Mirror Magic and madness.
Specifically? When we last talked about magic, you alluded to the fact that people who don’t know how to use their magic go mad. How does it manifest?”
“I’ve never seen magical madness,” Lyra admitted, sitting back down.
“I’ve heard stories about it, all told by my father.
He wasn’t detailed, he just spoke of the urge to use magic until it dries one up, like a husk.
Magic has a cost, just like—like running, for example.
When we run we get out of breath and need to rest before starting again.
Magic is like that, it takes our energy, our life force and drains us until we rest. The more we use magic, the more skilled we become, but unlike running, the recovery gets worse.
It takes longer. Sometimes if too much magic has been used, there’s no recovery at all. ”
My eyes went wet. So then, the long-term use of magic led to death.
“That’s why all magicians are sent to the Boundary, to control it, but their magic doesn’t last. That’s why the Venators are hunting and the academy is training.
But Mirror Magic is singled out. Anyone with Mirror Magic is put to death?—”
I let my thought hang there, finishing it internally.
All of my father’s actions suddenly made sense.
If he knew the truth, or guessed at the truth, he was deeply aware that Mirror Magic was responsible, and if Prince Methrin was released from his imprisonment in the mirrorverse, he’d return to destroy the kingdom with his magic.
What my father feared was exactly what the Everminati feared, the reason they’d exiled him in the first place.
And Rydlin, the one person who could have explained the truth, had fled, wrapping himself in magic and hiding for two decades.
With Lyra, his mysterious daughter, who was part Everminati, part human and happened to be the same age as myself.
I studied her again, determined to figure out more of her secrets, even though I was unsure whether it would help.
I leaned forward. “Lyra, what happened to your mother? ”
Her lips twitched, and her shoulders slumped.
“My mother was human, one of the ladies in the palace. My father said they kept it a secret, since chaos was brewing. I was born shortly after the revolt, after Prince Methrin was lost to the mirrorverse.” Tears filled her eyes.
“My parents were getting ready to leave when the monster came out of the wood and consumed her. Father couldn’t do anything to stop it.
It’s immune to magic, weapons, everything. ”
“Lyra, I’m so sorry.”
She sniffed, brushing tears from her cheeks.
“I never got to know my mother because of it, and the fact that my father—a great sorcerer—could do nothing to save her haunts me. That’s why we started doing what we do, helping people escape and cross the Boundary.
As far as we knew, the monster had not crossed the Boundary, although I assumed it is able to.
But it’s intelligent, it has a plan, whatever that might be.
My reason for being here is twofold. I want to know more about where my father came from, and his people.
I also want to help slay the monster that killed my mother. ”
Last night I’d sat with Prince Methrin, listening to his story and now I listened to Lyra. I felt closer to her too. Connected. Empathy was a new feeling for me.
“I think the monster killed my mother too,” I offered. “Or my father, but I hope . . . I hope it was the monster and not him.”
“Oh Esmira.” Lyra caught my hand and squeezed it. “That’s terrible. Your mother had magic then?”
“I don’t know the truth of what happened to her, and I want to go back and find out before her story is lost. The Captain of the Venators taunted me about her, but I don’t know what kind of magic she had.”
“We have many mysteries to solve.”
“What kind of magic did your mother have?”
Lyra stood, hugging her arms around herself. “My father wouldn’t confirm, but I believe she had Mirror Magic.”
I went cold. “But you don’t have Mirror Magic.”
“No, remember, magic isn’t passed through bloodlines.”
“If she had Mirror Magic, why didn’t she free Prince Methrin?”
“I don’t know,” Lyra said softly.
“I wish your father had come with us, he has the answers to questions we don’t know.”
Lyra grimaced.
The door burst open, slamming against the wall with a violence that sent me out of the chair and backing away with Lyra right beside me.
A broad-shouldered warrior drew his sword and waved it at us. “Which one of you is the witch?” he demanded.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Lyra asked, her friendly voice unnaturally cold as though she were the ice freezing over water on a cold winter’s day.
The chill coming from her was so strong I was momentarily distracted from the warrior.
He lunged at us, but Lyra moved, putting the long table between us.
A panicky fear came over me but the bud of magic awakened, unfurling like a coiled vine .
The warrior slashed at the table, sending plates of food tumbling to the floor. I cried out as he roared.
“I know one of you carries the deadly magic. You’ve come here to kill us all, just like he tried to do.” With a snarl, he ran to one end of the table.
“Go, go, go,” Lyra shrieked, pushing me in the opposite direction.
I moved, but my feet tangled in my too-long skirts, slowing me down.
Lyra gained the door just as the warrior hurled himself around the table, swinging his blade. A manic grin lit his face, but his skin was unnaturally pale, clammy, and his eyes blood red. Unless red eyes were a trait of the Everminati.
His speed was terrifying. I tripped and fell backward, my head smacking the floor. Stars danced in front of my eyes, enough to block out the advancing warrior.
“Esmira!” Lyra screamed and hurled a chair across the table.
It slammed into the warrior’s side, knocking him off balance.
I snatched up my skirts as I regained my feet. But I wasn’t fast enough. The warrior bellowed like an enraged bull and lowered his head, breaking the chair as he charged me.
My hands came up, and golden light streamed from them as he brought down the sword. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain.
Instead, there came a cracking sound, like glass breaking .
I opened my eyes and there stood the warrior, still lunging, a snarl ruining his handsome face, the sword raised. But he was fully encased in glass, just the way Methrin had imprisoned me the first time I’d fled from him.
The swing of the warrior’s blade must have been so powerful that it cracked the glass, for the tip of the blade pointed at a fissure in the glass prison.
I scrambled to my feet, body shaking.
A shadow flickered at the edges of my vision, just out of sight, but a voice whispered in my mind. Plot to destroy me, soon you’ll see, death rides in shadows and answers to me.
Bile clawed up my throat. I spun to the doorway, where Lyra stood.
“Esmira!” a familiar voice called, fury lacing his tone.
Methrin stepped into the doorway, and behind him stood King Ithrani surrounded by guards.
They all stood still, looking from the warrior to me. Aware of what I’d done.
I froze as shame and fear washed over me.
The expressions on their faces were hostile, as though I’d done something awful.
I was alone in a foreign world, and I’d just used terrible magic, magic they were all afraid of.
What would they do to me? I didn’t dare look back at the warrior, even though I was certain he was still very much alive, just trapped.
King Ithrani spoke first, a dark edge to his commanding tone as he faced Prince Methrin. “So, you healed yourself but brought a demon to torment us. But you forget one thing, boy. I am king, I am not easily blackmailed with threats.”
Methrin’s jaw went tight, and his fingers curled into fists.
But when he did not speak, my heart sank. We’d come through the portal full of hope yet had only traded one nightmare for a darker one.