She tries to come toward me, only to be violently kicked by the armored man who dragged her in. She goes sprawling on the ground, clutching her gut, auburn hair plastered against her sweat-slicked face, the orange tips limp and dirty. When the guard steps away, she forces herself up, coughing up a hack of pain.
Her clustered lids unfurl, eyes of swirling red and orange locking onto me. “Auren,please…”
The pleading in her voice and her tearstained gaze stab at me, opening invisible wounds. The longer I sit here watching her, not moving, the more misery drags down her face.
A lump clogs my throat at the hopelessness as she starts to sob. I try to speak, but my tongue is too heavy. My mind too trampled.
Why is she crying?
Why do I want to cry too?
“What’s the point of this, Cull?” the king demands.
“This one has glamour magic. She used it at my estate.”
“And?”
Cull—the one-eyed man—kneels down next to the crying woman and whispers something in her ear. She shakes her head frantically, but he says more and then snaps his finger.
Pain.
I scream, completely caught off guard from the sudden, intense break. I look down at my dangling wrist, and my ears ring, vision tunneling. I pitch forward, vomit spewing from my mouth.
Someone is yelling.
Just when I think I’ll pass out, the pain suddenly vanishes. My vision returns in shards. Slicing together. I glance down at my wrist, but…it’s fine.
Wasn’t it broken?
But no…it’s not, and there is no pain. None save for the aching in my skull, so it wasn’t broken at all.
It must’ve just been in my head. In this dream.
I don’t know what’s real. I don’t know what’s happening.
Sharp bile clings to my lips, and I breathe hard as black dots pop before my blurry eyes.
“Do it now.”
I didn’t realize the one-eyed man was still speaking. I didn’t hear. The woman’s body shakes as she scoots forward, and then she gently takes my hand. I feel her tight grip pinch into my skin, feel something smooth press into my palm.
Her chin quivers. “I’m so sorry,” she whispers.
I’m not sure why, but I want to tell her it’s okay, even though I don’t think it is.
I open my mouth, but something on her cheek flickers. Shimmers. She closes her eyes, even as tears still fall from them, and I stare, shocked, as shechanges. Like a bucket of water being poured over her head, the change washes over her. Amber and orange hair fading, skin brightening, lips going burnished.
Right before my eyes, the woman before me disappears, and instead, I’m staring at…me.
I blink and blink, but the vision doesn’t go away. A stem of panic nearly sprouts up, but it can’t find the ground to take root. Hollow confusion and spinning distress is all I have.
But wait…maybe it’s not another woman? Maybe it’s a reflection of me?
I feel my face burrow into a frown.
What’s real? What’s now?
“Here’s the answer, King Carrick. A perfect stand-in.”
