“Riley,” I whisper, and the name echoes in the chamber like recognition.
The mirror ripples at the sound, and I swear she moves independently. Her head tilts as she meets my eyes directly. My reflection isn’t mine anymore.
“Finally,” she says, her voice carrying across the chamber like she’s standing right next to me instead of trapped behind glass. “I was beginning to think you’d never find me.”
My knees nearly buckle. “You’re real. This is real.”
“As real as you are.” She speaks, pressing hand against the inside of the mirror. “Though I suppose that’s relative, isn’t it? You’re there, I’m here, and between us is… well. Everything.”
“I don’t understand.” The words tumble out. “What is this place? What happened here? What am I supposed to do?”
Riley’s expression softens with something that might be sympathy. “You really don’t know, do you? They kept you in the dark about everything.”
Above us, I can hear footsteps on the stairs. Careful, cautious, but coming nonetheless. Part of me wants to call out, tell them to stay back, that this moment feels too fragile for witnesses.
But another part — a larger part — knows that whatever happens next, I want them here. I want them to see.
“They’re important to you,” Riley says, and there’s something wistful in her voice. “I can feel them.”
“They are.” The words come out easier than I expect. “They matter.”
“Even the ones who scare you? Even the ones you’re not sure you can trust?”
Images flash through my mind — Thane’s silver eyes going soft when he thinks no one is looking, Stellan’s careful distance thatsomehow feels like protection, the way Wes looks at me like I’m something precious and breakable and worth saving.
“Especially them,” I say quietly.
Riley smiles. “Good. That matters more than you know.”
Behind me, I hear Rhett’s voice: “Bree? Everything okay down there?”
“Come down,” I call back, not taking my eyes off Riley. “All of you. I think… I think you need to see this too.”
The sound of multiple footsteps echoes down the stairs, and I can feel the exact moment when each of them sees the chamber. Jace goes silent. Gray mutters a curse. Wes’s soft “Holy shit.”
And from Thane, though I can barely hear him: “The mirrors are intact.”
Stellan says, even quieter: “But look at the floor.”
I follow his gaze and see them — small piles of ash scattered across the chamber floor, each one positioned in front of a mirror. Some mirrors have no ash at all, others have multiple piles, like someone arranged them deliberately.
The ash looks like it’s been sitting here untouched for centuries.
“What is that?” I ask, but no one answers.
“Bree.” Thane’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp with something that might be fear. “Step back from the mirrors.”
“Now,” Stellan adds, and there’s an edge to his usual composure that makes my skin prickle. “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever’s calling to you — resist it.”
I look between them, startled by the urgency in their voices. “What? Why? What’s wrong?”
They spread out around the outer edge of the chamber, but instead of the awed silence I expected, there’s tension crackling between them. Rhett’s hands are clenched, ready for a fight while Gray looks like he wants to physically drag me away from the mirrors.
But it’s the look on Thane and Stellan’s faces that really gets to me. I’ve never seen either of them scared before. And they are definitely scared right now.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask.
Thane and Stellan exchange a look, and I see something pass between them. A decision.
