Only my reflection stared back. Pale, wild-eyed, and very human.
But behind me, just for a heartbeat, I thought I saw movement—a flicker of gold and silver light.
And in that moment, I knew something in this place had found me.
For a long time, I just stared at the mirror.
The frost hadn’t reformed. No runes glimmered. Nothing moved.If I told anyone what I’d seen, they’d think the same thing the villagers did—that I’d finally gone mad from dabbling in things I didn’t understand.
Except I hadn’tdoneanything. That was what unsettled me most.Whatever was happening, it had started to act on its own.
I sat at the edge of the bed, hands shaking slightly. The hearth had gone cold, though I could still feel warmth clinging faintly to my skin.The words hadn’t been just light. They’dbreathed.
My mind went immediately to Maeryn. She might know if mirrors could do … that. But if she told Kaelith, I’d be back in the dungeons by morning.He’d think it a sign—proof that I was dangerous. Or worse, proof that I’d lied about who I was.
So I said nothing.
Not that morning, anyway.
Instead, I lit a single taper and leaned closer to the mirror, watching the flame stretch and bend against the glass. Nothing changed.My reflectionstayed obediently mine—golden hair in tangles, eyes rimmed with exhaustion, and throat tight from trying not to panic.
Then I noticed it: something glinting faintly on the bedside table.
A shard of crystal, no larger than a fingernail. Clear at first glance, but when I lifted it toward the light, it pulsed faintly—slow and steady, like the beat of a buried heart.
The same color I’d seen beneath the dream field.
I set it down immediately, half expecting it to vanish. It didn’t.
I waited. Nothing happened. No voices, no shimmer of frost, no second message. Just the low hush of wind moving through the hall outside.
My first thought was Kael—that he’d left it as some strange jest, some token from a realm that didn’t play by mortal logic. But he didn’t strike me as the subtle kind. And Kaelith … no. If he wanted something left at my door, he’d send a guard with a written warning.
So who, then?
I told myself it didn’t matter. I’d throw it out with the morning ashes. I’d pretend none of this happened.
But I didn’t.
When the servants came to clear the room, I slipped the shard into my pocket. The warmth against my palm was muted but undeniable, and I hated how comforting it felt.
That night, I caught myself touching it more than once. Not to test it. No, I wanted tofeel it there.
As if, somewhere in the depths of this cold place, something was finally looking back.
Chapter twenty
Katria
The sound split the sky—low, guttural, and wrong.
It wasn’t the usual horn used for drills or the changing of guards. This one carried through the walls like thunder trapped in the stone.
I bolted upright. My breath clouded in the air, and the frost along the mirror’s edge trembled as if listening.
Then came the second call—louder, desperate—followed by shouting in the courtyard below.
The door burst open. Maeryn stood there, pale as the frostlight behind her. “Stay inside,” she said. “Do you understand me? Bar the door if you must.”
